I’m not sure he believes me, but he turns back to his friend, and I glare at Wright. “There is a big difference between what you do and what the Vigilante Choker does,” I hiss.
Wright’s posture softens. “I know that, but Hazel, you’re the most goody-two shoes person I know and even you haven’t turned him in. You wouldn’t do that if he was a bad person.”
My fingers dig into the seat cushion. “Good people don’t commit murder.”
“Some of them do.” Livi’s voice is quiet but sure. Wright and I glance at each other because it’s when Livi says things like that, that we wonder what exactly happened to her before she appeared in Seattle three years ago. Because Livi doesn’t talk about her past. Ever.
She goes back to signing.“Plus, all his victims were DMW’s.”
“That doesn’t make it okay,” I say.
Wright grumbles, “Makes it a hell of a lot better.”
I slump onto the table and talk into the sticky surface. “What do I do?”
“What do you want to do?”
Forget that Flynn exists. Go back to a time where I can no longer picture his stupid boyish smile or feel his forehead against mine or his arms around my waist.
Sleep, Little Lilac.
A foot jabs into my shin. “Uh, Hazel, Detective Derek at six o’clock.”
I sit up and twist around, peering over the top of the booth to see Detective Derek Pierce heading towards us.
“Think he’s going to ask you out again?” Wright asks.
I grimace. Pierce is a good-looking guy. Broad shoulders, dark hair, and a neatly trimmed beard. We got to know him through work and on paper he’s great. Steady job, good person. But apparently, these days, I’m only attracted to men who like to choke people.
He slips his hands into his suit pockets as he stops by our table and dips his head at me. “Hazel.”
I smile and steal Livi’s water so I have something to do with my hands.
Pierce turns to Wright. “Wright.”
“Detective Derek.”
Livi presses her lips together to stop from laughing while I die inside because of course Wright insists on calling him that to his face.
I guess Pierce gets points for not letting it bother him though. Not even the slightest tick of his jaw as he talks to Wright. “I just thought you might like to know we caught the fucker from your call the other day.”
“Really?” I ask, hope blooming in my chest because more often than not DMW’s get away scot-free.
Pierce rocks back on his heels and nods. “Yeah. It was rather strange actually, the guy turned up in the hospital with four cracked ribs and a broken penis.”
I shoot Wright a look, but she just watches Pierce.
“The nurse reported it when she found scratches on his neck and a bite on his hand. Your girl was able to ID him, but see the strange thing is, he wouldn’t say who had beat him up. Claimed he walked into a wall.”
Wright snags her tongue piercing on her teeth. “Huh, strange.”
Pierce arches a brow. “You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you, Wright?”
Wright’s hand comes to her chest as she flutters her eyelids. “Who, me?”
Pierce crosses his arms and holds his ground. “You know, I took a look back through the records and every time you or Hazel have gotten a rape call, it’s ended with an arrest. Funny, huh?”
Wright drops the innocent pretense and locks her stubborn gaze on Pierce. “I guess we’re just good at our jobs.”
