Mario - A Story - 19

Two hours later, with supper over and Wil safely tucked into bed for the night, Mario and Tate were again sitting on the sofa.

Mario sipped his coffee as he stared pensively off into space. Tate watched, silently, while he wondered what was going through the younger man’s mind. Eventually he asked.

Mario turned his dark gaze on Tate to say, apparently apropos of nothing, “My sister’s good people you know.”

“I’m sure she is if she’s anything like you. What made you say that?”

“I was just thinking, if they arrest me she’s going to have to take care of Wil, and she’ll do it without batting an eye and give him a good home.”

“Mario they are not going to arrest you. They’ll probably bring you in for more questioning but if they had any evidence you’d killed him you’d be in custody already.”

“I’m the only one who wanted him…gone,” Mario countered. “I had reason to and they know it because I told them. I think.” He frowned and looked off into space again. “Yes I did.”

“Look.” Tate shifted so he could put his hand on Mario’s shoulder to get his attention. “A man like that has to have more than one person who disliked him, or even hated him. He abused you, he probably did the same to others, verbally at least if not physically. If he only did it when he was drunk there could be people in the bars he hung out at who faced his anger too.”

“Maybe…”

“I’d bet my bottom dollar on it.” Tate squeezed his shoulder reassuringly. “Hell you should have seen him last night. Well, no you shouldn’t have of course but… Anyway, he was so drunk he could barely walk and yet he came after me. Or because of it he came after me. What if he’d already taken on someone in whatever bar he was at?”

“And they killed him?” For a brief second hope lit Mario’s eyes before it dimmed. “Even if that’s what happened how would the police find out, or find them? And why would they try to. I’m the obvious suspect; they’re not going to look beyond that, especially after his roommate told them Jonah was the one who broke off our relationship, not me.”  

“Mario,” Tate cautioned, “don’t sell the police short. They want to find out the truth just as much as you want them to. Yeah they’re looking hard at you for obvious reasons but they’ll look elsewhere too. That’s their job.”

“I guess.” Mario looked down at his hands which were gripped tightly together in his lap. “All I can think about is Wil. How am I going to tell him what’s happening? I should have already but…” He buried his face in his hands. “He’s too young to understand. All it will do is make him even more afraid that something’s going to happen to me.”

Tate slid over so he could put an arm around Mario’s shoulders. “Give him some credit, Mario. He’s a smart kid, even at his age. You just have to find the right words.”

“What are the right words to use to tell him that someone he knew was murdered and his father is the prime suspect?”

“I don’t know. If I did I’d tell you. For sure you don’t do it quite that bluntly I suspect. Maybe your sister can help?”