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“From the name, I’m assuming she’s related to the DA. But I’ve never heard of her,” he answers.
I nod, watching him. He seems to be telling the truth, so I continue.
“She’s his daughter. I saw her get attacked. I think she was kidnapped. The same night of the… the same night of the arrests.” I keep my eyes on Mateo. His expression hasn’t changed, but he’s listening intently. I lean forward and whisper. “It was the same night that Russian restaurant blew up, too.”
Mateo’s eyebrows draw together. He’s thinking about what I’ve told him.
“There was this note,” I continue, pulling out the folded-up paper that I’ve kept since Gina handed it back to me saying she already knew about the threat it contained. My hand shakes a little as I pass it to Mateo, remembering what happened that night and that Gina might still be in real trouble.
Mateo reads the note silently:
District Attorney Richard Nicoletti,
I was going to assassinate you tonight. But I am giving you one more chance to live. Step down as District Attorney and you will live. If you do not step down, I can’t give you any more chances and you will die.
He finishes reading and refolds the note and hands it back to me.
“I was at the Academy of Music theater that night,” I continue. “I was sitting in DA Nicoletti’s seat. This note was attached to some device that started blinking at the end of the show so that I would find it.”
Mateo looks up to the tops of the buildings across the street. He runs his hand across his chin.
I continue to tell him what happened next. “When I went backstage to tell Gina,” I hesitate. I hate this part of the story. It’s my fault that Gina went out to the alley in the back when she did. If she hadn’t gone out with me, maybe she would have been better protected when she did leave. “We went into the alley behind the theater with one of her friends, and I showed her this. She wasn’t surprised like I thought she would be. But then a van pulled up and the people inside reached out and grabbed her. I… I think they were Russian. It sounded like they yelled something in Russian anyway. I tried to fight them off her…”
Mateo turns his head back to look at me but doesn’t say anything. His expression is kind of quizzical. Proud? Surprised? Whatever it is, it makes me forget what I was saying and just look at him blankly for a moment before I shake it off and continue.
“But, uh, they knocked me down. Then another guy came out of the backstage door and went running after the van. Gina’s friend helped me up, but she took off before I could ask her anything. I haven’t been able to get in touch with Gina since then.”
Mateo finally breaks his silence. “What has her father said?”
“He doesn’t seem to care about the threat any more than she did,” I say.
Mateo squints his eyes for a moment.
“And,” I add, “he just tells me not to worry about Gina. But he won’t tell me if he’s talked to her or if she’s okay.”
“Hm,” Mateo thinks. “I’m sorry, I don’t know anything about her.”
His eyes are soft when they meet mine. I appreciate him listening. I haven’t been able to tell anyone other than DA Nicoletti about this. It’s nice to finally say it all and have someone actually listen. Like when I was telling Andre about the shooting.
Mateo reaches into his pocket and scrolls through his phone. “The guy that chased after Gina,” he says. “Did he look anything like this?”
He passes his phone to me. On the screen is a picture of Mateo and another man the same height as him. They have their arms around each other’s shoulders. Each of them has a drink in their hand. It looks like they’re at some kind of outdoor party or barbecue. In the photo, Mateo is smiling as if they were a few drinks in already. I feel the urge to smile back at that Mateo.
The other man in the photo is grinning, too. He doesn’t have dark hair like Mateo’s. It’s more a dirty blond. I try to remember if that’s the man. I was still kind of dazed from taking a hit to the head when I was trying to fight off the kidnappers.
“It could have been,” I say. “He was gone so fast. I barely saw him.”
I hand the phone back to Mateo and he puts it in his pocket.
“Who is he?” I ask.
“Someone I haven’t been able to contact since that night either,” Mateo says. “I don’t know anything about what’s happened to Gina. But if I hear anything, I’ll let you know.”
“Thank you,” I say. I believe him. He doesn’t seem to be hiding anything from me. I want to ask him more about the other guy in the picture, but I feel like I’ve already asked him a lot. He’s been cooperative, but I don’t want to push my luck.
I’m feeling somewhat relieved, though not as much as if Mateo had said he knows where Gina is and that she’s happy and healthy. But it doesn’t seem like he was involved, so I feel relieved enough that I can eat again when the waiter brings our entrees.
“My turn now. I have some questions for you, too,” Mateo leans back in his chair. “I won’t hold them against you. I’m mainly just curious.”
