Page 94 of Frankie and the Fed

“What’s happened?” I rise to my feet.

“He’s going to kill him. You must come with me. Help me stop him.”

“Slow down. What’s happened? I don’t understand.”

“Ethan believes Clifford Nightingale is the one who raped Anna, and I think he’s right.”

“What?” I scream. “How?”

“Clifford made a slip-of-the-tongue during their last meeting. He said something he wasn’t supposed to know. Ethan is on his way there, and I think he’s going to kill him. Ethan’s life will be over if he does that.”

“I’m at Olive’s. Can you pick me up?”

“On my way to you.”

I get dressed as fast as I can and go downstairs, shifting weight from foot to foot until Ryan’s Mercedes pulls up next to me. What if it’s too late? What if we don’t arrive in time?

We race to the address. Ryan runs red lights and almost has an accident, but nothing stops him. As soon as he parks, I burst out of the car and run to the house. Ethan’s Porsche is there, parked on the street. Shit, he’s already here.

“Ayala?” The Porsche door opens.

I stop running and turn back. Ethan’s tormented face appears before my eyes.

I run into his arms, collapsing on his lap, tears flooding my eyes. He’s here. He’s okay.

“I want him to pay for what he did to her. I want him to suffer,” he mumbles.

“We’ll make sure he pays.” Ryan appears beside me. “I’ll help with what I can to bring him to justice.”

Ethan closes his eyes. “I planned to go in and kill him. I was ready to give up everything I have, my businesses, Savee... I was willing to sit in jail to make him pay for what he did.”

“And why didn’t you do it?” I ask.

“Because of you. I promised I’d be there for you. I promised not to leave you again.”

* * *

After we file an official report, and the police promise to summon Clifford for questioning, we get into the Porsche and drive home.

Ethan hasn’t spoken since we left Clifford’s house, and I’m debating whether I should try to talk to him or let him be quiet. But he surprises me and starts talking by himself.

“I didn’t expect we’d ever find out who did it,” he says. “After all, more than a decade has passed. In the beginning, I drove myself crazy trying to learn who did that to her. I used my resources to find the criminal, to confront him. But I failed. In my dreams, the police would throw him in prison for the rest of his life, and he’d be raped over and over while there, just like he raped Anna. Poetic justice.” Ethan looks at me.

I nod. “Didn’t the police try to learn who it was?”

“My parents never filed a report about the rape. So no.”

“They didn’t file a report? Why?”

“Family honor, or something stupid like that. They said nothing would bring her back, so there was no point. They didn’t want anyone to know what happened, not to tarnish her name. As if it was her fault that she was raped.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Do you think they knew what happened before the suicide and tried to hide it to protect themselves?” he asks.

I shake my head. “No. There’s no way they would do that. At least, I can’t believe they would. I’m sure that, like my parents, they simply made a mistake in their judgment when they found her. You saw what happened to me when the pictures got published. It’s difficult. They didn’t want to go through all that. They didn’t wantyouto go through all that.”

“I needed that closure. I wanted to see whoever was responsible taken to court. Instead, I got years of torture. I let him work for me, damn it!” He pulls over onto the side of the road and puts his head on the wheel.