Page 91 of The Truths We Find

My head is spinning as the heavy metal door creaks open. In walks a tall man I don’t recognize—another detective, I assume. Great.

He approaches the cold steel table and sets a thick stack of folders down, then takes a seat across from me.

“Hello, Danielle. I’m Agent Thomas Russo with the FBI.”

Wait—FBI? My eyebrows shoot straight to my hairline. What the fuck?

“I’m guessing you weren’t expecting the feds to show up,” he says, in a calm tone, almost too calm.

I swallow, trying to steady myself. “To be honest, I wasn’t expecting to be here at all. What’s this about? No one will tell me anything.”

“I need to talk to you about Tate,” he says.

I cross my arms. “As a federal agent, you know I’m protected under the Shield Law. I don’t have to reveal my source to you.”

Agent Russo shakes his head. “I’m not here about that.”

That’s exactly what the other detectives said.

“Then with all due respect, I don’t understand why I’m here,” I reply, leaning back slightly. “Everything I know about Tate is public record. I’m not some kind of expert. And the pending charges against him are at the state level… so what exactly is the FBI doing asking questions?”

He leans back in his chair, crossing one leg over the other. He picks up a folder from the table and flips it open, scanning the pages without looking at me.

“Tell me about your relationship with your boyfriend, Sam Lincoln,” he says casually.

I freeze. What the fuck?

Agent Russo still doesn’t look up. “According to our files, you’ve been together a while. About nine years or so?”

“I… yes. That’s accurate. But we recently broke up,” I manage to get out.

“Hmmm,” he murmurs, still reading. “What led to that?”

“Wasn’t working out. Why the hell is that your business?” Anger flares. I can’t help it.

He finally gives me his attention, locking eyes with me. “See, I find it… interesting that as your now award-winning reports on Tate ramped up, you suddenly broke things off with your long-term boyfriend.”

I blink, the accusation catching me off guard. Confusion twists in my stomach.

He leans forward slightly. “I don’t believe in coincidences. I think this breakup was your way of keeping us off your boyfriend’s trail. But what you don’t realize is, we were already on to him. Have been for a while.”

Wait. What the hell is he talking about? On to Sam? My brain short-circuits.

“I have literally no idea what you’re talking about,” I stutter.

“Danielle… cut the bullshit.” His voice sharpens. “There is no way in hell you didn’t know Sam was helping Tate this whole time. He was Tate’s muscle. He was the one leaning on people when Tate couldn’t get what he wanted.”

My jaw drops.

Agent Russo leans forward, elbows on the table. “You expect me to believe your best friend—the guy you were with for years—was essentially breaking bones, collecting money… and you just… what? Thought he had a busy work schedule?”

I can’t breathe. I shoot up from my chair and start pacing the room, tears welling up fast. My fingers fidget with the hem of my jacket, switching between swiping at my cheeks.

How is this happening?

Sam was my person. Sure, things fell apart in the end, but he was good. Wasn’t he?

Agent Russo doesn’t let up. “You shared everything with him. Don’t play dumb now, Danielle. You’re smarter than that. So, either you’re lying to protect him… or he played you just like the rest of them.”