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My hands clutched the sides of the podium, knuckles whitening as the weight of my decision bore down on me. That microphone before me wasn’t just a device; it was a chance to tell them off for their smear campaign against Dominic and to describe my father’s plight with injustice. This was live TV, so it wasn’t like they could stop me, and for God’s sake, Dad deserved someone to defend him not only in court, but also in the public eye.
A restless cough echoed from the back, and hushed whispers filled the gaps between the silences. A woman at the front glanced pointedly at her watch while a guy moved his finger in a circular motion at me, then pointed to the camera.
I set my prewritten speech down on the stand and opened my mouth, prepared to mend some scars of my past, but the words lodged in my throat with the image of Dominic bleeding out in my mind’s eye. With the Vigilante standing over him, holding that knife.
If I failed to use this opportunity to help catch an active killer, how would I be able to sleep at night?
Yet the words to clear my father’s reputation burned my tongue and threatened to erupt.
“Good evening. My name is Luna Payne. I am a criminal defense attorney in the state of Illinois, and earlier today, I was an eyewitness to the crime committed by the man known as the Windy City Vigilante.”
Stay on point, Luna. Your time to clear Dad’s name is coming.
“I know some people in this city think this type of vigilante justice is doing society a favor since these perpetrated assaults target alleged violent criminals, but I saw firsthand what the Windy City Vigilante is capable of, and I can tell you, he is nothing more than a cold-blooded murderer.”
A chorus of whispers built like a crescendo, and I squinted, momentarily thrown off by a particularly aggressive camera flash.
“Earlier today, he ambushed my client and killed him in broad daylight. This vigilante is growing more brazen and is becoming a danger to our society. Anyone who stumbled onto that scene could have gotten hurt or killed themselves.”
“Is it true your client was actually guilty of murder?” a reporter shouted.
A bead of sweat threatened to drip down my back.
“My client was found not guilty,” I said tersely. “And even if he wasn’t, the so-called Vigilante attempts to veil his crimes beneath the blanket of justice, but he is circumventing thorough investigations and criminal processes for his own agenda. The only thing we know for certain is that he is a violent killer that needs to be stopped.”
“If the Vigilante is watching right now, what do you want to say to him?”
I locked eyes with the lens of the central television camera, picturing him on the other side.
“Your reign of violence is coming to an end. We will find out who you are and put you behind bars.”
CHAPTER11
Luna
“Uh, Luna?” A soft knock preceded my bedroom door creaking open wider than it already was. “There are some guys outside your place.”
Sean had slept on the couch all night, even though it was completely unnecessary for him to stay and babysit me. But Sean was worried about Franco’s threat, not to mention the Vigilante’s potential reaction to yesterday’s press conference. I did essentially throw down the gauntlet, after all. Nothing like poking the bear to elicit an angry response.
Come to think of it, I was surprised I’d never heard from Hunter last night. Sure, Sean ended up staying the night, and Hunter could probably see his van from his mansion, but still. Hunter seemed genuinely concerned about Franco and my safety.
Franco. Could his guys be outside? Or maybe the Vigilante, here to off the person who’d witnessed his last crime?
My heart trampolined into my throat.
My hands shook slightly as I reached into the closet, gripping the baseball bat, its cold, hard surface providing a small measure of reassurance. Then I grabbed my phone and tiptoed into the living room to glance out the front window to see how many men were out there.
“What the hell?” I tossed the baseball bat onto the floor with a clank and set my cell phone on the kitchen table before storming outside into the early morning air.
The sun had only recently risen, birds chirping away, perched in the various trees surrounding the cottage.
“Excuse me!” I snapped to the man standing on the ladder on my front porch. “What do you think you’re doing?”
The guy was holding something black in his hand, something with wires that he was screwing into the roof’s overhang.
The bearded man stared down at me. “Installing the security cameras, ma’am.”
“I didn’t order any security cameras. You have the wrong place.”
