CHAPTER SEVENTY-NINE
(part four)

Tuesday afternoon — 3:11 P.M.

Sandy looked from face to face in the small conference room. The District Attorney, some Federal representative, Seth and another Denver Police Detective were arguing over what should happen next. She wasn’t sure why they insisted on her coming to this meeting. She only knew that she had to be there.

Samantha Hargreaves, Aden’s attorney, had filed to have the charges dropped against him. After all, the person he assaulted was no longer an issue. The DA was furious. The Feds were enraged that their key witness was murdered while in Denver Police custody. Everyone kept looking at her as if she might be the solution to their problems.

No, she didn’t know anything about any Chinese.

No, she was never involved in the distribution part of her father’s business.

No, she had not been in contact with her father after he got out of jail.

Yes, that’s right, she hadn’t spoken even one word to him since she was twelve years old. Was that so hard to believe?

The men stopped talking to her after that. She was not the answer to their problems. They still wouldn’t let her go home.

In her mind, she fantasized about going home, to her home, her little condo on Seventeenth Avenue. She imagined walking in the brick building then up the stairwell to her second floor condo. She’d open her front door and be home. Maybe she’d sit out on her small balcony. She might walk across the street for a cup of coffee from Watercourse Foods. Drinking her coffee, she might wander over to Marczyk’s for some baking supplies. With her arms filled with her reusable bags, she would walk home while planning the cake that would occupy the rest of her afternoon.

Seth touched her hand and she returned to the small room.

“I’m going to take Sandy home,” Seth said. “We’ve already determined that she’s safe at the Marlowe-Lipson home. This entire debacle has been a shock to her system. She needs to rest.”

The Feds started screaming again. The District Attorney screamed back. And Sandy leaned back in her chair. Once again, her father had splattered his garbage all over her life. Even dead, the man continued to work to destroy her life. Sandy settled in for what was sure to be a long afternoon.

What kind of cake was that?

Her mind shifted to somewhere far away from this room.

Denver Cereal continues tomorrow….