Free Fistful of Benjamins by Kiki Swinson

and have their real boyfriends or pimps hurt him. I don’t know if Carlos went through with his plans to meet the strange woman and this is the result or not. I sure hope that you guys look into that; because honestly, I don’t know anyone else who would’ve wanted to hurt him,” I fabricated on the spot, lowering my voice like I was really sad and concerned. I had surprised even myself with my lying and acting skills. Shit, like Eduardo said, I deserved an Emmy or Oscar for that performance. I was clapping for myself in my head.
    Sinclair and Boules looked at each other like they were considering what I’d told them. I’m sure the dumbfounded looks on their faces meant that they were probably thinking this was the first time they were hearing anything about a craigslist date. I even had two seemingly seasoned detectives second-guessing their investigative skills.
    â€œWhat do you know about the packages Carlos sorted every day? Aside from the fact that he just gave them to you for delivery every day ,” Sinclair asked, stressing the words every and day . “Did he ever say anything to you about any strange packages that he’d been receiving? Any packages that were coming from the same place? In another state, maybe?” Sinclair asked. I immediately felt sweat beads running a race down my back. I balled up my toes in my shoes and bit into my bottom lip. Stay calm, Gabriella. They don’t know shit. Stay calm like Eduardo said. Just answer what they ask.
    â€œI don’t know anything, except he sorted the stuff for my routes and I delivered them. I’m just the little ol’ mail lady; I never get caught up in where packages came from or really who they were going to. Especially express-mail packages. I just dropped them wherever they needed to go. Carlos certainly never spoke to me about any one package in particular. All of our conversations were just general,” I replied, lowering my eyes. My legs involuntarily started to swing in and out under the table. I tried to control them, but they would just start back up again. Boules and Sinclair looked at each other again. This time their exchange was more like a knowing smirk rather than a dumbfounded, confused look. That seemed like a bad omen to me, but I continued to wear my poker face nonetheless.
    â€œHumph,” Sinclair said, looking at me through squinty eyes. “So you know nothing about the packages? You just delivered them to the correct addresses as they were listed on the boxes?
    â€œYes, sir,” I said, all official-like. The detectives looked at each other again.
    â€œAnd you’re sure this is all you know?” Sinclair asked, his tone suspicious.
    â€œLike I said, I’m just the mail lady,” I replied. Boules stood up first. He still wore a pissed-off scowl, but that wasn’t anything new for him. I was more concerned about Sinclair’s facial expression. His eyes and face were no longer so friendly. He wore a scowl as well now. He kind of looked like I’d insulted him in some way.
    â€œYou have a nice day, Ms. Vasquez,” Sinclair said as Boules picked up the stack of stuff from the table. Sinclair stood up next. He started gathering up his pen and pad too.
    â€œThat’s it? We’re done here? Just like that? Seems so—so—abrupt,” I said nervously. Neither of the detectives responded.
    â€œIs there any other information about who might’ve done this? Are you going to check out the craigslist lead? Is there anything else I should worry about?” I asked a bunch of dumbass questions. It was my nerves; they’d finally gotten the best of me. I was fucking bugging for that, but I needed to know why they had ended the interview so abruptly. I was nervous as shit about that. What did they know about the packages? Why were they even asking about the packages?
    â€œWe have no other information, Ms. Vasquez. We are still investigating. I