Frank in interrogation
“Alright Mister Iero, let’s take it from the top,” says a round balding middle aged cop as he takes the seat across from me at a rickety table in a dark interrogation room. I roll my eyes.
“I already explained everything to the last cop who was in here,” I snap.
“Yeah?” he asks in mock surprise. “Well now you’re going to explain it to me, got it?”
I speak in short clipped sentences, trying my best not to lose my temper at this douchebag. “Alright. I was in a car accident, the other driver was at fault. He died, along with my twin daughters. His brother blames me and started blackmailing my wife while I was on tour. He’s trying to steal my life to make up for losing his brother.”
“That’s a nice story, there’s just a few little problems with the details. We’ve talked with your wife. She’s never heard about any of this. And we looked up the driver involved in your accident. He had no surviving family.”
“Then it was her, Jamia. She’s trying to get back at me because the girls died.”
“So she orchestrated this whole thing? Blackmailed you into leaving your band and made you stalk them in disguise.”
“Yeah,” I mutter, knowing he won’t believe me anyway.
“It’s an interesting theory. We found those documents she supposedly blackmailed you with. Looks a lot more like some rich rockstar who thought he could buy his way out of a drunk driving and vehicular homicide charge. You know what I think? I think you just fucked up your relationship with the band like you fucked up everything else in your life – your family, your marriage – and then you couldn’t stand to see your ex-wife happy while you were losing everything so you started stalking your old band like a psychopath.”
I lunge out of my chair, the handcuffs holding me to the arms not letting me get far. The cop gives me a nasty grin.
“And then that temper got the best of you and you decided to blow them all to hell only you fucked that up too.”
“You mother fu—“
“I’d be very careful if I were you Mister Iero,” he cuts me off.
He stands and leaves me alone and fuming. I sit back down and lay my head on the table. I’m not sure how long has passed when I hear the door open again but I keep my head down. From the click of high heels on the floor I can tell they’ve sent someone new, a woman this time.
Probably just means I’ll have to start all over again.
I still refuse to look up. She pulls out the chair and sits across from me without a word. The seconds stretch to minutes. Slowly I look up. She’s tall and thin in a sharp suit, with red blond hair falling to her shoulders in loose waves. She’s peering over black rimmed glasses down at the file on the table in front of her with a look on her face that can only be described as peaceful. After hours of dealing with gruff frustrated cops I’m taken aback by her quiet calm patient demeanor. She glances at me as I look up.
“Nice of you to join me.”
“I suppose we’re going to take it from the top?” I mumble, quoting every other visitor I’ve had in this windowless room today.
“There’s no need for that,” she says. “I have the file. I can read. No need for you to repeat it. Unless there’s something you’d like to add?”
She raises her eyebrows at me in question. I shake my head and she turns back to her papers.
“So who are you?” I ask. She looks at me again but doesn’t answer. “Is this some good cop bad cop shit?” She looks amused.
“No, I’m your attorney. We’ve met. Several times actually. I handled your divorce. I’ve advised you on every contract you’ve ever signed. I’ve worked for you for almost twelve years.”
Her face clicks in my head. My lawyer, right. I feel like an idiot, but I also don’t care. I have bigger things to worry about than being embarrassed about not recognizing someone I honestly barely know anyway.
“Alexis, but you were close,” she says kindly. “Luckily I remember more about you than you do about me.”
“Enough to get me out of this mess?” I ask.
“I’ll certainly do my best,” she says, closing her file and resting her hands on the desk as she gives me her full attention.
“Do you believe me?” I ask quietly, glancing at the closed file.
She leans back in her chair. “You’re not my first meeting today. Jamia called me. She told me her side of the story, now I’ve seen yours. I think I have a pretty good idea of the big picture here.”
“Get out,” I growl.
Alexis just smiles and reaches into her briefcase on the floor.
“I said get out!” I yell. “If Jamia sent you I don’t want anything to do with this. She’s only been lying and playing games since she came back. I’m not playing along anymore!”
Alexis waits patiently for me to stop yelling. “And how has that been working for you?” she asks. “Everyone here believing your story? Getting all the help you need?”
I glare at her. If Jamia sent her then this is probably all just part of her game. But the truth is without Alexis I won’t last five minutes here, the cops already have their version of the truth decided.
“So you work for her.”
“No, I work for you. She called me. Asked me to give you this.” She places a letter on the table. “That’s it. Read the letter, and after that everything’s up to you. You call the shots on how you want me to defend you.” She slides the letter across the table toward me. “Trust me, you want to read this.”
I glare at her a moment longer then drop my glance down to the letter.
I’m so so sorry. I know how this looks and I know you won’t believe me but I am. It’s not over. He’s still here and the guys and I have decided we still need to catch him in the act. We still don’t have the evidence we’ll need to clear your name and if we tried to come clean now he’d know we’re on to him. We have a plan. Alexis will tell you the rest, it’s too risky to write it here. I know this is too much of me to ask, but please trust me. We will get you out of there.
I’m surprised to see five signatures at the bottom. Gerard, Mikey, Ray, Bob, and Jamia have all signed the letter. After so many signings with these guys I know their signatures better than my own. They’re not faked.
I finish the letter and look up at Alexis. “You said you see the big picture. So do you know what this plan is?”
She nods. “Can it work?” I ask.
“Alright. What do I need to do?”