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“I’m here to talk to you about your husband’s attack.” His eyes narrow, and I nod, and then wipe my eyes for effect. “I’m so sorry,” I say in my most fragile tone. “I don’t think now’s a good time.” I let a tear fall down my cheek, then cover my face with my hands. “Can you come back?”
“I just need a few things answered. There was a witness at the scene, an elderly man who was upset he couldn’t get to you. He was sitting in his car with his leg in a boot—from a fracture—waiting on his wife to get something from their unit in the building. We know you and your husband were attacked. The other party is deceased. We have some further questions. It will only take a few minutes.”
“I know, but…I don’t think I can talk right now.” Thank you, waterworks.
He frowns at his watch.
“I’m going to get to see him in a minute. What about tomorrow? Please? I want to be praying for my husband right now.”
That seals the deal. The officer leaves, promising to return tomorrow.
I text Dani, even though I want to call; I’m afraid of a camera in the room recording me.
I’m so scared, Dani. I hate lying.
I’m so sorry, fishy! This is the worst thing at the worst time. I’m all ready, even got my bag packed for the night. I can come up now? I won’t get in your way.
And risk yourself, too? How would this look for you with your job?
Maybe you should leave, she texts. I know that’s awful, but you might want to protect yourself. He’s going to be sleeping anyway, and I’m sure he’d want what’s best for you.
There’s NO way.
I see her typing for a while before she sends another text: I understand.
They said they did the minimally invasive kind of surgery, but I don’t want him to be in pain. I send a crying emoji that doesn’t even begin to cover it, and Dani sends three back.
When I had surgery on my elbow entrapment, they gave me THE best drugs. Remember? she asks.
You were talking about ‘vintage Harrison Ford’ and how you wanted to f--- him.
I smile at the memory, which was likely Dani’s intention.
Vintage Harrison is yum, she says. Don’t even try to say I’m wrong about that.
I’m scared someone in the ICU will know my face from TV, I text Dani.
Then you need to change your face, and change your hair. Go to the gift shop and get a hat or something. I’m not kidding. I do that on flights, remember, and it always does the job.
Maybe I really should.
I pull a note pad from my purse and scribble: Gone to the lobby. Back in 15. Please call if it’s time to go in and see Mr. Galante.
I leave my number. Then I hurry to the lobby. There’s a large gift shop, which has all sorts of things. I buy a Yankees cap and two thick, fabric headbands, which should cover up a lot of my hair. On a whim, I grab Tic Tacs in every flavor—wow, there are a lot now!—and some lemon candies just in case he wants those sometime.
I feel queasy as I ride the elevator back up, worried they’ll have come for me when I was gone. Worried someone will realize who Luca is, or who I am, and will call my blatant lies. Worried about what will happen if everybody finds out that the D.A. is in love with the mob don. I don’t like to label us that way, though, so I try to shove those thoughts aside.
I return to my drab waiting room to find the sticky note right where I left it.
What kind of waiting room is it, Dani asks.
I tell her without thinking of the consequences, which turns out to be a fabulous mistake, because an hour later, someone in a red hospital T-shirt pops into the room with a giant paper sack.
“Delivery for Mrs. G?”
I look at the bag’s logo—Kulap Thai—and want to weep with gratitude. “Thank you so much!”
I’m so hungry, I stuff my face before texting Dani. Then I send her a selfie featuring me with my smeared mascara and my ball cap.
Tuck your hair up in there, she says. And leave the mascara. You don’t look the same with so much black eye makeup.
Thank you so much! You’re the best friend EVER.
You’re so welcome. Don’t you want some company up there yet? Also, can I tell Ree?
Um, if you want her to stroke out, I guess you can. She would DIE, Dani. She would be beside Luca in the ICU!
But can I tell her?
Why do you want to? I frown down at my phone.
So I can have moral support!!
I send an eyeroll emoji. I guess you can.
I don’t think Ree will be upset with me or anything like that. She and Dani are amazing friends. She will be really worried, though.
