Page 6 of Love Me Darkly
A short time later, he stood on the curb outside a small but surprisingly well-stocked convenience store. Officer Knightly remained in his squad car, smoking a cigarette. He seemed content to allow Mateo all the time he needed.
He quickly dialed the number for his mother-in-law, pressing hard due to the stiff buttons on the brand-new phone. The torn-open package for the little prepaid flip phone rested beneath one arm, while the card containing enough minutes for this one call had been tossed into a curbside trash can.
“Digame!” called out the rough, accented voice of Mariana’s mother.
“It’s me, Valentina. Mateo.”
A beat of silence passed, during which she probably tried to decide if it was really him. He had, after all, urged her to be extremely cautious.
“I want to talk to Angel.”
“Si, she’s here.”
“How is she?”
“The same,” Valentina replied with a sigh. “Too quiet, and she doesn’t eat enough. The teacher says she does her work but doesn’t raise her hand or speak in class. She just sits there.”
Closing his eyes, he attempted to swallow past the lump in his throat. He’d hoped Angelica’s sullenness would eventually pass, but his absence seemed to have exacerbated the problem.
Mateo had arranged for Angelica and his mother-in-law to go into hiding. Smith helped him make the arrangements, setting them up someplace Mateo knew nothing about. If he didn’t know where they’d gone, he couldn’t be coerced into giving them up. Not that he would, but the extra protection it offered couldn’t be denied. Smith had them take on new last names, ensuring they had identification to match.
“Is therapy not working?” he asked, annoyed that distance kept him from knowing these things himself. Being ignorant to his daughter’s location meant he knew almost nothing about her everyday life. Valentina had been taking her to weekly counseling sessions, but Mateo only ever received the rare update about those.
“The therapist can hardly get her to speak either, so it’s hard to say.”
“Have you found a dance studio for her yet?” he asked, recalling their last conversation. “It’ll take her mind off things if she can dance again.”
“She won’t go,” Valentina replied, her voice quivering as if she fought tears. “I don’t know what to do, Mateo. She’s not interested in any of the things she used to like.”
Tightening his grip on the phone, he nodded—a confirmation of his earlier thoughts. He was running out of time to put this to bed. His daughter needed him. If she were here, he would make her grilled cheese sandwiches and let her eat them in bed with him. They’d watch Frozen and Brave and dance to her favorite songs on the radio. When she stood right in front of him, he knew how to make her smile.
That was something else the UNSUB had taken from him—his ability to be there for his daughter, to be a good father.
“Let me talk to her.”
He heard movement and Valentina murmuring, “Your Papi wants to talk to you.”
Angelica’s voice reached him, but so muted he couldn’t decipher any actual words. She must have replied that she didn’t want to talk to him because Valentina swiftly reprimanded her in Spanish, reminding her that it had been an entire month since Mateo’s last call.
A moment later, his daughter’s soft tone reached out to him over the line. “Hi, Papi.”
The knot in his throat grew even tighter at the sound of her voice. She sounded tired, sad. Not at all like the bright little girl he knew.
“Hey, mi hija!” he replied, trying to inject a little cheer into his tone for her sake. “How’s my girl?”
“Fine,” she answered.
Apparently, the habit of answering him in monosyllables would continue.
“Good,” he said, pretending he didn’t notice her flat tone. “Abuela tells me your grades are good.”
“I guess.”
Two words now. He supposed it could be counted as progress.
“I asked her to find a studio so you can pick up ballet again,” he offered, hoping it would be enough … just until he could get to her. It had to be enough because at the moment, it was all he could offer her. “Just until I finish things up and bring you home … then you can go back to your own studio.”
“Okay. I guess that would be fun.”
