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paid for me to go to nursing school so I could support myself.”
    “How did he know you? He doesn’t go to bars.”
    “My brother knows a…friend of Mr. Mangini’s.”
    Ah, there’s the connection. I knew the routine. Her brother was likely a small-time earner for Dominic, so the brother tells his crew boss and it moves up the ladder. “And your husband? Does he still beat you?”
    “I haven’t seen my husband for a while.”
    “Jesus Christ. Don’t tell me that.”
    Those tobacco-stained, chipped teeth showed when she smiled. “You’re the one who asked. Besides, instead of questioning what your uncle is doing, you might think about who cares for you, dear.” She turned and walked back to her chair against the wall. She didn’t walk like a nurse either; she was…balanced, like an athlete.
    But she’s probably right. I took a sip of water, and gave her the “once over” again. A towel peeked above the pocket of her uniform. “Cops will be here all morning. If there’s a piece under that towel I’d keep it hidden.”
    She smiled again. She was good at that. Far better than the lieutenant. “Thanks,” she said.
    Over the next several hours, I prepared myself for the inevitable questioning from IA, but all I could think about was being back in the family. I had confused feelings about Uncle Dominic, but family was the most important thing in my life—that, and being a cop. How’s that for a contradiction?
    I remembered the family get-togethers, especially the holiday ones. Christmas was best, exchanging gifts on Christmas Eve with all the cousins, eating a meal that should have filled us for days, then getting up the next morning to too many presents and too much laughter. Those thoughts brought up another worry—not having my own kids. I was thirty. Past the time when most “good Italian girls” start a family.
    While I lay in the hospital bed, I dreamed there was a line of suitors at the door, all waiting to vie for my affections.
    Like a princess in a fairy tale.
    The door opened a few seconds later, but it wasn’t a suitor. It was IA. Same two guys. Randall was the taller of the two, but other than that they looked alike.
    “Good morning, Detective. How are you feeling?” That came from Randall.
    “I can talk, and I’m sure that’s what you wanted to hear.”
    Randall looked to Green and they smiled. Smirked was more like it, and they even did that alike, causing me to wonder if they taught smirking in Internal Affairs school.
    “I like you,” Green said, as he pulled out a tape recorder. “Detective, we’re going to tape this conversation. Is that okay with you?”
    “Fine by me.”
    Randall leaned forward, but he bent in the wrong places. It made him look like a Slinky with a stiff back.
    “You have a right to have your representative here.”
    “Let’s get it over with. I got nothing to hide.”
    Randall, still bent in that same posture, stated the date and time into the recorder, then he mentioned he would be interviewing Detective Connie Gianelli.
    “Detective Gianelli, tell us what happened the other night. The night of February 12th.”
    I took a moment to think about what to say, then I recited the details of the evening, stopping at the part when I got to the hospital.
    “Detective, this was a major drug bust with known drug dealers. Violent men. Why didn’t you get backup?”
    I should have cleared this with Chambers. Not knowing what to say, I opted for the truth. “We decided to go in without backup.”
    “Why? That’s against policy.”
    Spit the truth out here, too. “We were concerned with leaks. We wanted control of the situation.”
    Randall’s tone was getting more sarcastic by the minute. “And when things went bad. When Detective Rafferty was killed, why didn’t you call for backup?”
    I didn’t know if these guys were slow, but they were sure as hell annoying. “I already told you, we didn’t have backup arranged.”
    “Why not call 9-1-1?”
    I