Chapter 3 - Why Mateo Chose Table Four
Mateo wanted security.
Tessa wanted coffee.
They compromised.
She got coffee.
Mateo placed two men downstairs.
“I don't need bodyguards.”
“You received a photograph taken without your knowledge.”
“I also received fourteen emails about student loans. Those scare me more.”
Mateo stared at her.
“You joke when you're afraid.”
“You stare when you're annoyed.”
“I stare most of the time.”
“I noticed.”
For the first time that day, the tension broke.
Only slightly.
Mateo drove her home after her shift.
Her apartment embarrassed her.
Not because it was dirty.
It wasn't.
It was simply small enough that Mateo could probably stand in the center and touch half the furniture.
Tessa unlocked the door.
Mateo stopped.
“What?”
“The lock.”
“What about it?”
“It's damaged.”
She looked closer.
Scratches surrounded the cylinder.
“They weren't there yesterday.”
Mateo moved her behind him.
“Stay here.”
“Absolutely not.”
“Tessa.”
“My apartment.”
He entered first.
Nothing appeared missing.
But someone had searched the place.
A drawer sat slightly open.
Her bedroom closet had been disturbed.
Then Tessa saw the wooden recipe box.
It had belonged to Evelyn.
She kept it on the top kitchen shelf.
Now it sat on the table.
Open.
Tessa rushed toward it.
“Don't touch anything.”
She ignored Mateo.
Inside were old recipes, photographs and handwritten notes.
One thing was missing.
“A letter.”
“What letter?”
“I don't know.”
Mateo frowned.
“You don't know?”
“It was sealed. Great-Grandma Evelyn made me promise never to open it.”
“Where was it?”
“Under the recipes.”
“Addressed to whom?”
Tessa looked at him.
“Me.”
Mateo became very still.
“You had a sealed letter from Elisabetta addressed to you and never opened it?”
“I promised.”
“She's been dead twelve years.”
“A promise doesn't expire because somebody dies.”
Mateo looked at her for a long moment.
“That's either admirable or insane.”
“Thank you.”
“That wasn't entirely a compliment.”
They called the police.
Nothing obvious had been stolen except the letter.
Afterward, Mateo refused to leave her alone.
She refused to go to his house.
So they sat in her kitchen at midnight eating cereal.
It was absurd.
A feared Vitiello heir sitting on a mismatched chair eating generic cornflakes from a chipped bowl.
Tessa finally asked the question that had bothered her for weeks.
“Why Table Four?”
Mateo looked up.
“What?”
“Why did you keep requesting my section?”
He lowered his spoon.
“I knew your name.”
Her smile disappeared.
“What?”
“Before I met you.”
Tessa slowly put down her bowl.
“Explain.”
Mateo leaned back.
“Three months ago my father became ill.”
Tessa's expression softened despite herself.
“He recovered. But while organizing his affairs, I found an envelope inside his private safe.”
“What envelope?”
“It contained a list of names connected to Sicily.”
“And mine was there?”
“No.”
He paused.
“Evelyn Hayes was.”
Tessa stopped breathing.
“I searched the name.”
“You investigated my family?”
“Yes.”
“That is incredibly creepy.”
“I know.”
“How did you find me?”
“Her obituary.”
Tessa remembered it.
Evelyn Hayes, beloved mother, grandmother, great-grandmother.
There had been a photograph.
Tessa stood beside her grandmother.
“You found me through an obituary?”
“Yes.”
“And then discovered I worked at Bellori?”
Mateo nodded.
“So the first night wasn't accidental.”
“No.”
“The burn. My foot. All those questions.”
“I was trying to determine whether you knew anything.”
“By examining my wrist?”
“I got distracted.”
Tessa stared at him.
Mateo looked almost uncomfortable.
That was unexpected.
“You got distracted?”
“You were different from what I expected.”
“What did you expect?”
“Someone trying to get close to my family.”
“I was trying to get you to order dinner.”
“I realized that.”
Tessa folded her arms.
“So you kept coming back.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Mateo looked directly at her.
That answer took longer.
“Because eventually I stopped coming for Evelyn Hayes.”
The kitchen suddenly felt too quiet.
Tessa looked away.
“That's a terrible line.”
“It wasn't intended as one.”
“That makes it worse.”
His mouth twitched.
Then his phone rang.
The moment disappeared.
Mateo answered.
His expression changed.
“When?”
Pause.
“Don't touch it.”
He stood.
Tessa's stomach sank.
“What happened?”
“My father found something.”
Twenty minutes later they arrived at Salvatore's estate outside Chicago.
The old man waited in his study.
On the desk sat a wooden box.
“Elisabetta gave this to me the morning before I left for Palermo,” Salvatore said.
Inside was a wedding certificate.
Two rings.
And a folded document.
Tessa read the certificate.
Salvatore Vitiello.
Elisabetta Caruso.
Married May 3, 1969.
Then Salvatore handed her the document.
It was a birth registration.
Incomplete.
The mother's name:
Elisabetta Caruso Vitiello.
Father:
Salvatore Vitiello.
Child:
Blank.
Tessa whispered, “My grandmother.”
“Perhaps.”
Salvatore's voice broke.
Mateo placed a hand on his father's shoulder.
Salvatore looked at Tessa.
“I lost a wife.”
His eyes filled.
“And perhaps a daughter.”
Tessa sat beside him.
For the first time, she did not see a feared patriarch.
She saw an old man discovering that half his life had been built upon a lie.
“We'll find out,” she whispered.
Salvatore nodded.
Then the study door opened.
David Mercer walked in.
Tessa stood abruptly.
“What is he doing here?”
Salvatore's expression hardened.
David looked at Mateo.
“You asked me to come.”
Mateo nodded.
Tessa stared at him.
Mateo said, “Someone at Bellori knew enough to send those messages.”
David became pale.
“I didn't send them.”
“No,” Mateo said. “But you know who did.”
David looked toward Tessa.
His shoulders dropped.
“I was hoping she'd never learn.”
“Learn what?”
David reached into his jacket.
He placed a sealed envelope on the desk.
Tessa recognized it immediately.
Her name was written across the front in Evelyn's handwriting.
Her stolen letter.
She stared at David.
“You broke into my apartment?”
“No.”
“Then how did you get that?”
David looked at Salvatore.
Then Mateo.
Finally Tessa.
“Because the person who took it brought it to me.”
“Who?”
David swallowed.
May you like
“Someone you've known your entire life.”
---
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