Dominick
“Someone’s here to talk to you, Nick,” Uncle Julian announced when I walked into his office.
Grace told me I was needed in his office, so here I was. My eyes settled on a middle-aged man in jeans, shirt and sneakers, with unruly short dark hair and penetrating black eyes. He was seated on a sofa across from my stepfather, who wore his three-piece navy blue suit as usual.
“Hey,” I greeted the man, nodding to him.
He got up and showed me his badge, which was placed on his belt. “I’m Detective Martin Bouchard. I’m here to ask you some questions if you don’t mind, Mr. Tremblay. Dominick, correct?”
“Yes, that’s correct,” I drawled, quickly glancing at Uncle Julian, who remained silent and seate
