“I saw them leave, and Mr. Moss sent me home.”
“And when did you return to the office?”
I paused. There was something about the way he asked that question and the gleam in his eye that made me wonder if he thought my story was about to change from my initial witness statement. Was it true? Did he know I’d been threatened into lying?
But I didn’t tell him what those intimidating men wanted me to say. I didn’t lie about coming to the office the night beforethe body was discovered and watching Dmitri kill my boss. I didn’t change my story.
“I didn’t come back to the office until three days later. That’s when I found my boss’s body.”
The displeasure that flickered across the DA’s face was there and gone so fast I wasn’t sure if I imagined it. As I answered his questions about finding Mr. Moss’s body, I felt a profound sense of relief that no matter what it cost me. I was doing the right thing.
“Is there anything else you’d like to tell us?” the DA asked. “I want you to know that anything you say will go on the legal record, and you will be protected from the defendant.”
“Objection,” Dmitri’s lawyer called out. “The witness hasn’t indicated that she has anything else to add, and there’s no reason to imply that she needs protection from my client.”
“Sustained,” the judge said before turning to the DA. “Please move on, Mr. Reid.”
The district attorney ground his teeth together for a moment, and I couldn’t help glancing at Dmitri. He was watching the DA with a deep frown on his face. It seemed like he might have had the same thoughts I did. The district attorney was acting suspicious as hell.
“No further questions,” he said before turning on his heel and striding back to his seat.
After what Dmitri’s lawyer said in his opening statement to cast doubt upon me, I braced myself for his questions to be upsetting, but he surprised me when he declined to ask anything.
That was it. I was dismissed from the stand, and I knew it would have been fine if I left, but I sat back down in the gallery.Even if I felt that it looked better to sit on the opposite side, I wanted to stick around to support Dmitri through this.
Over the next couple of hours, the district attorney called up more witnesses to testify about Mr. Moss’s money troubles, his state of mind in the days before his death, and the connection between Dmitri and the men I saw intimidating Mr. Moss.
But it all seemed circumstantial to me. There was no real evidence which explained why I was being pressured to lie. The proof that Dmitri was behind Mr. Moss’s murder just didn’t exist.
By the end of the day, the district attorney had to be worried. From behind, I could see his shoulders bunched up, and the way he paced in front of the witness stand spoke volumes.
The trial would recommence tomorrow, where the defense would be calling their witnesses.
I didn’t want anyone to see me talking to Dmitri at the courthouse, so I slipped out of the building with the others who were watching the trial, leaving him behind as he talked to his lawyer.
I knew I’d see him at his house soon enough. Stopping to get Alexis from my mother’s house, I spotted the man who was guarding the house sitting in a dark sedan across the street. Giving him a discreet wave and a thankful smile, I put Alexis in her car seat and headed to Dmitri’s house. The dark sedan followed me until I pulled into the driveway.
Having mafia men follow me around would take some getting used to, but I’d never complain about it after what nearly happened at the gym. It’d be impossible to feel anything other than grateful for the men keeping us safe.
“Mommy, is Mitri home?” Alexis asked as we walked into the house. She looked around hopefully.
“I don’t think so, sweetie,” I said. His car wasn’t in the garage, and the house was quiet.
She looked disappointed for a moment, and I felt my heart clench. So little time had passed since Dmitri brought us to stay here, and yet it looked like I wasn’t the only one getting attached. Alexis cared about him too. He was indulgent and patient, and that was all that mattered to her.
Maybe that’s all that should matter.
“I’m sure he’ll be here soon,” I said.
“I wanna make a picture.”
“You want to draw?”
“For Mitri.”
I couldn’t help smiling at the way she said his name. Pronouncing it was difficult for her, so this was her nickname for him.
But she could call him Dad if you told the truth.