Vigilante

by Velvet Vaughn

  Olivia couldn’t agree more.

  #

  The sky was overcast and dreary as Alex, Olivia and Sawyer stood off to the side of the open grave where a white casket was slowly being lowered into the ground. Darla’s family sat huddled together on folding chairs weeping silently while the pastor recited a prayer. Tears poured down Olivia’s cheeks and she clung to his arm like a lifeline. He even had to choke down a lump at the senseless loss of a young life and his part in her death. If he’d made Darla and Arlo leave the apartment, they’d probably still be alive today.

  He knew Olivia blamed herself and he wished he could make her understand it wasn’t her fault. Right now the wound was too raw but he hoped to be able to make her realize that she should feel no guilt for the act of a killer. Since the police had no leads, they had no motive for the murders. It could very well have been drug-related.

  The minister finished the service and the mourners stood to leave. Olivia hugged Darla’s parents and then they navigated around headstones to the SUV parked in a line of vehicles on the opposite side of the road. An engine roared to life and Alex glanced up as a car picked up speed and then slowed. The passenger window lowered and a barrel appeared.

  “Shooter! Everyone take cover.” He dove for Olivia as shots rang out. They slammed to the ground behind two large headstones that he noted absently marked the graves of four members of the Hopper family. He completely draped his body over hers, making sure none of her skin was exposed. Chaos erupted as people started screaming and running in all directions. Chunks of black marble rained down on them from bullets grazing the Hopper’s memorial.

  “Hey, that’s my car,” someone yelled from behind them.

  “Returning fire,” Sawyer announced. Using a gravestone for cover, he popped up and fired off several shots, sending the car screeching away. “I’m going after them.” Sawyer scrambled to his feet and dashed for the SUV. It was a tight squeeze getting out of the parking spot, but soon he was executing a U-turn and speeding after the sedan.

  Now that the danger had passed, Alex eased his weight off of Olivia. He’d tackled her pretty hard. He rubbed her back. “Honey, are you okay?”

  Her head popped up and she looked around. “I think so.” He stood and grasped her waist to help her to her feet. Wide blue eyes blinked up at him. He plucked a strand of grass from her hair. “Oh, babe, I messed up your dress.” He brushed at the crushed, stained material.

  “It’s ok—”

  A scream cut off her response. They spun around to see a crowd gathered around two people lying on the ground. Alex pulled out his cell and called 911 while they hurried forward. A man he didn’t know and a woman he recognized as one of Darla’s cousins were sprawled on the ground bleeding. He rushed to the woman, who looked to have suffered the worst of the injuries. Except for Olivia, all of the women were hysterical and all of the men looked clueless. No one seemed to know what to do. So much for his new Armani suit as he balled the jacket to staunch the flow of blood. He showed Olivia how to administer aid and checked on the man. His wound was superficial but he was out cold. He applied pressure to the cut on his forehead as sirens wailed in the distance. When the paramedics rolled up, he grasped Olivia’s hand and backed away, giving them room. They watched as the medics went to work. The man regained consciousness and tried to refuse treatment but an older woman insisted. The man gave up and let them dress his wound. The woman was still unconscious so they loaded her onto a stretcher and rushed her to the waiting ambulance.

  A black Range Rover parked behind the ambulance and Sawyer jumped out, his phone to his ear. He disconnected before he reached them. “I found the car abandoned with both doors open. No sign of the perps or a getaway vehicle.”

  “So there are two of them.”

  They all flinched when the ambulance siren kicked on and peeled away. Two cars followed behind to accompany the woman to the hospital.

  The minister walked over, a handkerchief in his hand as he mopped his brow. His glasses were askew and he adjusted them with a shaking hand. “That was my car. I left the keys inside. I thought it would be safe in the cemetery with so many people around. I’m very sorry.”

  “It’s not your fault,” Alex was quick to point out.

  “Why would someone do that at a funeral? Hasn’t the family suffered enough?”

  It was a rhetorical question that didn’t require an answer. The family had suffered enough, as had Olivia. He knew she would feel responsible for the two people who were hit today.

  With a hand to her back, he guided her to the SUV while constantly scanning the area. He didn’t like her being out in the open with a possible sniper in the area. After he had her settled, he dialed Benson and filled him in on the latest attempt.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  It was almost time for the news broadcast, so the Vigilante turned on the television in preparation. Tonight was the night for Morris Clarke to pay for his crime. Everyone would know what he did to Mr. and Mrs. Wicks, simply to feed his addiction.

  The Vigilante had three more tapes ready to go, one being the reason this journey was undertaken. It was important to strike early before everyone became too jumpy. If the guilty were on alert, it would make the job harder.

  When the Vigilante started this crusade, there was no end date. Just the overwhelming need for justice. As long as there were people getting away with murder, the Vigilante would continue the quest to rid the world of evil. If the cops stepped in, the Vigilante would go down quietly without a fight, knowing the world was a better place. Maybe killing the criminals made the Vigilante one of them, but there were several families that could now sleep at night having closure for their loved one.

  The music started and the NYC-TV3 logo flashed on the screen along with the breaking news alert banner. “Good evening, I’m Callie Graves and this is breaking news on NYC-TV3. We have another video from the self-proclaimed Vigilante, the man who has been terrorizing all of New York City.”

  Blood pounded in the Vigilante’s ears. What the hell? Why was Callie Graves announcing the video instead of Olivia? The instructions were specific. Olivia or no closure. And what was with the description of a man terrorizing New York City? Olivia never made such a callous remark. She was careful to not attach a gender tag when showing the clips. She was professional and polished. Callie Graves was a disgrace to her profession.

  Clarke’s confession played, with him admitting how he needed money for a fix but the old couple refused to help him. He shot them in their car and stole their wallet and purse. The tape cut off where it usually did, without showing the very specific instructions that insisted Olivia reveal the video.

  The Vigilante knew someone had taken shots at Olivia, but after finding out she was okay and that she had a bodyguard, she should be safe. She’d even anchored the news last night. But the current demands had not been met. Olivia did not show the clip so the Wicks children, who pleaded for information on their beloved parents, would not find closure. The family of Morris Clarke would not either.

  Rage filled the Vigilante. Why weren’t the demands met? It wasn’t like asking for ten million in unmarked bills. The only requirement was Olivia. She was kind and caring and deserved the national spotlight.

  The Vigilante sat back, contemplating the next move. No need to send the text with instructions on where to find the bodies. But maybe a warning…

  #

  Olivia removed her boots and wiggled her toes. She’d been dying to do that for hours. She glanced down at the rips and stains on her beautiful dress. No way to salvage it, so she stood to unzip it. Strong hands gripped her shoulders and she gasped.

  “Let me help you with that.”

  She hadn’t even heard Alex enter the bedroom. The last she checked, he’d been talking to his boss, filling him in on the shooting. Her body tingled where he touched. When he lifted the tab and unzipped, she couldn’t stop the shudder.

  “Cold?”

  She shook her head. She was bur
ning up now. He slid his hands under the material on her shoulders and drew the dress off. It pooled at her feet. She started to step out and turn around but he held her in place. Then his big hands slid from her shoulders to cup her breasts. He pulled her tight against his body and the unmistakable proof of his desire for her. She closed her eyes and sighed when he brushed her hair back and kissed a path down the column of her neck. She couldn’t take it any longer, she turned and threw her arms around him. The kiss was long and deep. He reached down and lifted her, her legs automatically wrapping around his waist. They both groaned when their bodies aligned perfectly.

  “Alex…”

  He broke the kiss and stroked a thumb across her lips. “You have no idea how desperately I want this.” His voice was low and gravelly. “But I came to tell you Benson is on his way up.”

  She rocked against him and he groaned. “Don’t start something you can’t finish,” she chided before unlocking her legs to slowly slide down his body. She might’ve drug it out to torture him but it backfired when it tortured her, too.

  “Screw Benson.” He crushed his mouth to hers again.

  A knock sounded against the door. He groaned as he broke the kiss.

  “Sorry to interrupt,” Sawyer called out, humor evident in his voice. “Luke’s on the phone and he wants to talk to you again.”

  “Damn. We will finish this later.” After one last sizzling kiss, he left the bedroom. When she realized she’d been standing there, her hand against her lips like a lovesick fool, she forced herself to move. She pulled on a mint Pump It Up t-shirt and another of her favorite pair of black yoga pants. After digging out a pair of ankle socks, she slid on pink and black Nikes. Bending at the waist, she gathered her hair and secured it into a high ponytail.

  When she opened the door, Alex was chatting on the phone by the window overlooking the city. Sawyer was surfing channels when something caught her attention. “Wait. Stop there. Turn up the sound, please.” The NYC-TV3 logo appeared with the breaking news music. Callie Graves face filled the screen and she was announcing the next victim of the Vigilante.

  “What the hell?” Alex growled, striding over to stand beside her.

  They watched the video of Morris Clarke admitting to killing a husband and wife for drug money. Olivia plopped down on the sofa feeling oddly bereft. It had caused her nothing but trouble and heartache, but the Vigilante was her story. “Why was the confession sent to her instead of me?”

  “Maybe the Vigilante saw that someone was gunning for you and wanted to take the pressure off?” Sawyer suggested.

  “Maybe,” she agreed dubiously.

  “Benson’s on his way over but I’ll call and see what’s up,” Alex said. “I can’t believe he didn’t say anything about this earlier.”

  “I’ll call Jonah.” Olivia jumped up and ran for her cell. She punched in her producer’s number and he answered on the first ring. “I was just getting ready to call you. What the hell, Olivia? Why is Callie Graves announcing the Vigilante clip?”

  “I thought you knew.”

  “I’m headed to the station now. No one told me about this. I’m mad as hell. Aaron should’ve at least had the courtesy to give me a heads up. This was our story and he knew it. He’s not answering his phone, not that I expected him to in the production booth.”

  She disconnected at the same time as Alex. “Benson had no idea about the video, either. He’s calling Kramer and they’re headed to the station.”

  Olivia grabbed her bag. “We should go, too.”

  The station was close so it only took a few minutes for Alex to pull into the parking lot. They filed into the studio, having beat Jonah and the detectives. Callie was in the middle of delivering the evening news, so they stood off to the side to wait. Jonah stormed inside and marched into the production booth. He got into a heated argument with Callie’s producer, who jerked something off the table in front of him, slapped it into Jonah’s hand and shooed him from the booth. Jonah stalked over to where they stood. He motioned for them to follow him. Benson and Kramer arrived and fell in line as they made their way to Jonah’s office. Jonah closed the door and faced the group.

  “Aaron, Callie’s producer, said she barged into his office right before airtime and told him the package was addressed to her. He said there were no instructions at the end.”

  “Why didn’t he call you?” Olivia asked.

  “He said it just arrived before they went live. He barely had time to review it before the cameras rolled.”

  “Strange there were no instructions,” Alex mused. “It could be a copycat. You’ve never shown the end of the video with the instructions, so it wouldn’t be public knowledge.”

  “But the timing is right for the Vigilante,” Olivia argued. “He or she was striking every two days, so if this is a copycat, where’s the Vigilante’s tape?”

  “The set-up looked dead-on, too,” Jonah added. “The lighting, the surroundings, right down to the shock that they didn’t cut out.” He shook his head with disgust. “They didn’t even call the police.”

  “Can I see the video?” Sawyer asked. “I took plenty of computer courses at Quantico so I’ll see if I can find a discrepancy in the clip.” Jonah handed over the drive and they waited for Alex to retrieve his laptop from the SUV. When he returned and handed the computer to Sawyer, he slid the drive in the port and manipulated the keyboard. Olivia’s cell chimed a text just as Sawyer called out, “found it.” She crowded closer to look at the screen, the text forgotten. Sure enough, the instructions requiring Olivia to introduce the video were clearly visible.

  “Someone tried to erase the clip but nothing is ever really deleted,” Sawyer said, pushing his chair back from the desk.

  Jonah sighed and rubbed his forehead. “This is bad. This is very bad.” He looked around the room. “If the Vigilante stands by the threat, we’ll never find the bodies. The families are going to wonder why their loved ones weren’t located. What do we tell them?”

  Benson checked his watch. “What time will the broadcast end?”

  Jonah glanced at the clock. “It should be over now.”

  “Callie Graves and her producer need to answer some questions.”

  “Let’s show them the recovered clip and see what happens,” Sawyer suggested.

  “I need to get the lawyers on speaker phone first,” Jonah said. “We could have a major lawsuit on our hands.” He called the station manager, who in turn, called the general counsel and explained the situation. Jonah arranged a conference call and activated the speaker. “I’ll get Aaron and Callie,” he said gleefully, looking forward to the confrontation.

  “I’ll go with you,” Kramer said, patting her gun. “In case they need a little motivation.”

  A few minutes later Jonah and Kramer returned with Aaron and Callie in tow.

  “What the hell is this?” Callie demanded. “The broadcast just ended. I have things I need to do now.”

  “How and when did you get the latest Vigilante video.” Benson encompassed both Callie and Aaron in his narrowed gaze.

  Aaron shrugged and nodded to Callie. “From her. She brought it in right before we went on air.”

  Callie’s chin jerked up. “It was delivered to me.”

  “Was it addressed to you?” Olivia asked.

  “None of your damn business,” she snapped.

  “It’s my damn business,” Detective Benson growled. His arms were crossed and he looked every bit the intimidating law enforcement officer. “Was the package addressed specifically to you?”

  Callie looked away and shrugged indifferently. “I don’t remember.”

  “A package is delivered to you and you don’t check to see who it’s addressed to?” Benson’s voice was laced with disbelief.

  “No.”

  “When did you get it?”

  “Yesterday.”

  Aaron gaped at her. “Why did you wait so long to bring it to me?”

  “I forgot.”

  �
��Oh for the love of…” Kramer shook her head with disgust. “Who gave you the package?”

  “The new receptionist. I don’t know her name.”

  “Her name’s Mindy,” a voice piped up. Callie’s head snapped to the phone. “Is that…”

  “I’m sure you know the owner of the station, Mr. Pierce Prescott,” Jonah confirmed. “And Sherman Franks of the esteemed law firm, Franks, Garcia and Holt.”

  Callie’s eyes widened in fear. Aaron looked confused.

  “Hold on, I’ll get Mindy on the phone,” Prescott said. Callie swallowed roughly.

  “Hello?”

  “Mindy, it’s Uncle Pierce.” Callie gasped and Olivia tried not to laugh. Mr. Prescott’s middle name was nepotism.

  “A package arrived to the station sometime yesterday, and you delivered it. Can you remember who it was addressed to?”

  “Oh yes, I remember, but I didn’t deliver it. Ms. Larrson took it from my desk.”

  “Ms. Larrson,” Prescott said. “Long, blonde hair, sky blue eyes? Vertically challenged?”

  Olivia scowled at the phone and Alex rubbed her back in support.

  “No,” Mindy said, dragging out the ‘o’. “She’s a tall redhead, green eyes, totally bitchy.”

  Everyone’s eyes snapped to Callie and she glared.

  “Thanks, Mindy.”

  “So what,” Callie demanded, crossing her arms. “Olivia got to show the first three. Why is there a problem that I announced this one?”

  “Did you read the message at the end of the video?” Benson asked.