Chapters (35)
- Praise for Every Stolen Breath
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Chapter 8
- Chapter 9
- Chapter 10
- Chapter 11
- Chapter 12
- Chapter 13
- Chapter 14
- Chapter 15
- Chapter 16
- Chapter 17
- Chapter 18
- Chapter 19
- Chapter 20
- Chapter 21
- Chapter 22
- Chapter 23
- Chapter 24
- Chapter 25
- Chapter 26
- Chapter 27
- Chapter 28
- Chapter 29
- Chapter 30
- Chapter 31
- Chapter 32
- Acknowledgments
- About the Author
A split screen shows newscaster Gregory Irwin and Emi side by side with the little banner in the bottom right corner promoting the CNN logo. Emi’s about to say something ludicrous and exaggerated for higher ratings. Of course, CNN is willing to air her side of the story.
I ball my hands at the sides of my head.
Irwin introduces the interview. “While others believe that gangs are not involved in the return of Chicago’s Death Mob, Chicago-based investigative reporter Emi Vega believes the Latino gang that has been implicated in these attacks is being falsely accused.”
Thinking I misheard it, I start the clip over and turn up the volume. Emi is against the gang theory?
Irwin continues. “What’s your stance on this, Emi? Do you believe city officials are wasting time pursuing gang involvement?”
The screen narrows in on Vega, sporting a more toned-down look than she typically flaunts for Chicago news.
“Yes, I do. Every gang in Chicago, including the Latin Royals, has denied any affiliation with the Death Mob murders. In fact, gangs have not claimed responsibility since the flash muggings in the early 2000s. Those assaults involved anywhere from ten to twenty participants, smaller numbers than the attacks that have plagued the city for the last decade. My sources insist gangs have had no part in these murders, and there is plenty of evidence to substantiate that.”
A nervous energy rushes through me. I can’t believe she just disputed the whole thing.
“What kind of evidence?”
Emi cocks her head. “In the last five years, Chicago has spent over half a million dollars placing high-tech surveillance cameras around the city. Yet none of these cameras have captured an attack. Every attack has occurred just outside the cameras’ view. Anywhere from fifty to one hundred teenagers participate in these mobs, but there’s been no footage to identify any of them.”
Greg Irwin leans in. “Are you suggesting the attackers have intimate knowledge of the city’s surveillance?”
Emi lifts an eyebrow and tilts her head. Her caramel-colored hair doesn’t move. “I’ve heard claims that cameras were repositioned just before an attack. Gangs are well connected, Greg. But this suggests a sophisticated level of organization and involvement beyond the capabilities of local gangs.”
I’ve waited months—years—for someone to agree with my dad’s theory. And of all people, it’s Emi Vega. I gnaw on my bottom lip and wait for the part about me.
Irwin overgesticulates with his hands. “Has this ever been brought up before?”
Emi nods her head. “Yes. It was part of Steven Finch’s investigation before he died.” For once she doesn’t rhapsodize a tangent, which makes me uneasy. She knows more about my dad’s case that she isn’t sharing. Things I don’t know.