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It was a relief to hear that he was physically okay, but I needed to see him with my own eyes and find out what was going on.
“I’ll call the prison myself, see if they’ll give me more details,” I decided.
Hunter’s voice was unwavering, insistent. “AfterI take you to the ER.”
“Before you leave,” Rinaldi said, “I need to ask Luna something. In private.”
CHAPTER4
Luna
Rinaldi’s face was drawn, a deep crease forming between her brows, and her usually firm posture seemed to droop ever so slightly. It felt like an eternity before we were finally alone in the ladies’ room.
“Did you find out something else about my father?” My chest tightened.
The hum of the air conditioner vent drifted its icy air over my exposed skin while the sterile white tiles of the bathroom provided a vivid backdrop to the crimson-stained napkins, hastily discarded into the open trash can. A grisly sight that clashed with the faint scent of floral perfume attempting to mask the lingering violence.
“No,” she assured. “Listen, I hate to do this, but I’d like to ask you for a favor.”
Rinaldi’s brown eyes looked almost amber in this light, casting hues of frustration that settled into the cracks of her nude lipstick.
“This Vigilante has been a plague infecting this city for nearly two years now. He tries to justify his criminal activity as retribution for crimes allegedly perpetrated by his victims, but he’s nothing more than a serial killer. And he needs to be stopped. Not many people have seen him, though.”
Rinaldi scratched the side of her face so harshly, that it left a red mark.
“And those that have were typically at night, in the dark, making the visual descriptions unreliable. You’re the first one who’s had a good look at him, and given your exceptional standing as a criminal attorney and the fact that he killed one of your clients—”
“Friend,” I corrected.
“Right. I think you’d be the best face to make our fight more public. To turn up the heat on this bastard.”
I clenched my fists so hard, fresh blood oozed from the stinging slice on my palm. Why hadn’t the heat been a freaking inferno before? If it had been, maybe Dominic would still be alive.
Why was this guy still on the loose?
My father didnothingand was locked up within a couple of days of that person’s death. This Vigilante had beenmurderingpeoplerepeatedlyfor two years and was still on the loose. Free to live his life, free to hunt his next victim.
Maybe the cops hadn’t worked as hard as they could because he’d targeted some not-so-nice people, but for God’s sake, he had at least two dozen suspected deaths tied to his name.
Or maybe he had been a top priority, but the Vigilante moved through the city like a shadow—always a step ahead, elusive, mocking their best efforts.
“I’d like to do a press conference later today.” She cracked her knuckles. “While the news outlets are still circling for blood, I’d like you to give a statement.”
Of course police would want a fresh face on this. Having a killer at large for this long was making law enforcement look weak. Escalating frustrations over their lack of progress had been rumbling through the rumor mill—especially when the Vigilante was giving the justice system a black eye in the process.
You would think being the most dangerous and feared man in the city would make everyone hate him. But everywhere I looked, graffiti of the Vigilante’s initials, if you will—WCV—was paired with either “Hero” or “Monster,” showcasing the city’s division. Most sided with “Monster,” but some felt he was righting the wrongs of justice, especially when news outlets included the alleged crimes of the victims in their Vigilante coverage. And so long as public opinion on him was split, we might not have all the eyes open and cooperating to catch him.
“He must think that Dominic was guilty of homicide.” I huffed. “Despite the jury’s verdict.”
How dare the Vigilante do this to him. How dare the Vigilante waltz around the city, deciding who gets to live and who dies.
“Maybe we could use Dominic to finally sway public opinion of him.” I stepped forward. “The media focuses on the guilt of the Vigilante’s victims, but Dominic was innocent, so you could use his unjust slaying to make them see he’s nothing but a cold-blooded killer.” Maybe then we’d get more leads.
Rinaldi’s eyes softened into pity. “All due respect, I don’t believe Dominic was innocent.”
My head snapped back. “A jury disagrees with you.”
“And if I don’t think so,” she continued gently, “others won’t either.”
