Vigil (13 page)

Callum stood there. He saw my face. “See, this is why I didn’t want to be here if I wasn’t in the—”

“No,” I said. I pointed at the television.

CHAPTER NINE

Nolan had brought food for us, but neither of us felt hungry. In fact, neither of us had said much since I’d switched off the television. Callum had switched between two other channels, making sure he got the entire story.

The Phantom had killed another girl.

Vigil hadn’t been on the street to stop him.

Because he’d been with me. It was my fault. I’d distracted him. We’d been caught up in each other, and we didn’t have any right to do things like that. Not when there were girls in danger.

But after the third time I’d heard a news anchor go through the whole sordid deal, I’d snatched up the remote and turned off the television. I didn’t need to hear it again. I got it. I knew what had happened.

Now we sat in silence, the blueberry pancakes on our plates growing cold.

“I made you a promise,” Callum finally said.

A promise? I didn’t know what he was talking about. “What?”

“I told you that I wouldn’t let him kill any more girls.”

Oh. That was right. It was our deal. It was my price for not revealing the identity of The Phantom. “Don’t worry. I don’t think exposing Barclay’s identity right now would help anything.”

He dragged a hand over his flawless features, his face blank. “I failed that girl.”

“It’s not your fault. It’s my fault,” I said. “I distracted you.”

“No.” He shook his head. “I kissed you. I undressed you. I started it. I was so intent on making sure that you didn’t write that damned article. You made me so angry I couldn’t see straight. But then… when I’m in that costume, everything’s different.” He sighed.

I studied my fingernails. “Maybe it’s a sign. Maybe we should take it to mean that we shouldn’t ever be together again.”

He looked at me sharply. “Don’t say that. You and that fucking mask are the best things that ever happened to me.”

I was? Really?

But why was the mask so important? He was a very rich man. He could have anything he wanted. How could being a masked vigilante be one of the best things that ever happened to him? I didn’t understand. There was so much I didn’t know about him.

And even though I’d been very intimate with him last night, the man sitting across from me at the table still felt to me like a stranger. He didn’t seem like the same man I’d made love to. It was disturbing and strange.

He got up from the table. “No. I just need to figure out how to balance it. I don’t want to stop making love to you. Ever.”

I felt my insides lurch. I liked him saying that. I couldn’t deny that I did. I took a deep breath. “It’s going to take more than balance.”

“What do you mean?” He went to the railing, gripping it the way he’d made me hold onto it last night.

Memories of the night before slashed through me, and for a minute I was engulfed in them. The feel of his hands on me, his shaft in me, his mouth against mine.

I gulped, pulling myself together. “We’ve got to stop The Phantom once and for all.”

“Stop him?”

“That’s right.”

“I already told you, Cecily, I won’t kill him. I can’t do that.”

“I’m not talking about killing him,” I said. “I’m talking about exposing what he does in the most public way possible, with so much evidence that no one will be able to deny that he’s guilty. I’m talking about the kind of story that I wanted to write in the first place. A story that blows it all open.”

He turned slowly towards me. “I don’t know. I don’t think it would make a difference. He’s still going to be Hayden Barclay. He’s still got tons of corrupt people at his fingertips.”

“Corrupt, yes,” I said. “But are they people who will condone the actions of a serial killer? I know that the mob is responsible for murder, but they don’t kill people for fun. They only kill them when it’s necessary. Even corrupt people who are making money from organized crime are going to think that a serial killer’s messed up in the head.”

“He’ll weasel out of it. He’ll make it look like he didn’t do it.”

“Well, that’s what we have to stop. We need iron clad evidence against him. We need to make it so obvious that he did it, that he can’t weasel out of it.”

“And then you publish that story?” Callum came back to the table. He sat down.

“Yeah,” I said. “But, of course, all the credit goes to Vigil, for taking down The Phantom.”

He considered. “Maybe it could work.”

“It will work,” I said. “You and I can work together to find the evidence we need.”

“What kind of evidence we talking here?”

“We need the legs, Callum.”

He grimaced.

“Seriously? Did you just make a face?” I said.

“No,” he said, sounding sullen.

“Vigil would not make a face,” I said. “Vigil would not use that tone of voice.”

“And you wouldn’t talk to me like that if I was wearing the damned costume.”

I sighed.

He took a deep breath. “All right, so you’re saying that we’re going looking for women’s legs. The legs of the victims.”

“Yes,” I said.

“Some of those girls have been dead for a long time now. What makes you think there’s anything to find?”

“They’re trophies. He removed them for a reason. He’s keeping them somewhere.”

Callum grimaced again. “Why would he do that?”

“Don’t you know anything about serial killers?”

He shrugged.

“Serial killers like to keep trophies.”

He looked at me blankly.

“They’re like keepsakes from the murder. Something to look at, so that the killer can relive the crime again.”

“Ew,” said Callum. “I would never do something like that.”

“No one’s saying you would.” I looked at him, feeling suddenly cold. “Why would you say something like that?”

He picked up his fork and cut off a bite of his blueberry pancake. “No reason.”

No reason? It was completely out of left field to personally identify with what the killer was doing. And to deny that he would do something like the killer, he had to have been identifying with him. Why would he do that? “I don’t suppose you feel like telling me how you’re connected to Barclay, do you?”

He popped a bite of pancake in his mouth and chewed.

That was strange too, wasn’t it? Two minutes ago, he’d been making grossed-out faces. Now, he was eating?

“I don’t think so,” he said. “You already know too many of my secrets.”

That reminded me of the strippers that he paid to be his girlfriends. Why did he do
that
? Was I sure that I could trust this guy?

No, I realized. I wasn’t. In fact, rationally, everything about him screamed at me to run away. He had identity issues so strong that he seemed like a different person when he put on a costume. He claimed to be connected to a serial killer. He’d been unsure that he could have sex with me if he were facing me. All of those things taken together sounded like they added up to something pretty weird and scary.

And yet, here I was, calmly eating breakfast with him after being intimate with him last night.

Well.

I was going to get a really good story out of this.

I was.

Maybe I could convince myself this was all in the noble pursuit of the news, not just some stupid thing I was doing because I was becoming cock whipped.

He caught my gaze with his blue eyes. “Cecily? You okay?”

I nodded. I was a little sarcastic. “Fine. Everything about this situation is just fine.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Well, things are crazy, I’ll give you that.”

“But you’ll help me with The Phantom?”

“You’ll keep my identity secret?” he said. “And you promise me The Phantom lives?”

“I promise not to kill him myself,” I said. “That’s the best I can do.”

“My identity.”

I looked down at my plate. “Safe. I won’t tell anyone.”

“Good.” He took another bite of pancake. “So, how are we going to find these legs?”

* * *

“Where have you been all weekend?” said Airenne when I came in the door of my apartment.

“Um…” I hadn’t thought about the idea that I might need to prepare a story for my roommate. But I couldn’t tell her the truth. I couldn’t tell her that I’d been banging Vigil like a nympho.

“I saw you get out of the car you know,” she said. “I have a pretty good view of the door from the window.”

Callum had insisted that I let his driver take me home, even though I’d wanted to call a cab. He said that there was a reason he had a driver, and it was to drive people places. He wouldn’t listen to my argument about it, and it didn’t seem that important at the time. But now, I wished that I’d been more firm. That I hadn’t let him change my mind.

“So,” she continued, “don’t tell me that wasn’t Callum Rutherford’s car.”

I sighed. “Look, it’s all complicated, Airenne.” I headed back the hall to my bedroom.

She came after me. “I didn’t think you liked him. You said all that nasty stuff about him. You were rude to his face. And then you disappear at the party, and Callum disappears too. And he comes back, but he’s all preoccupied, and then he leaves again. And no one sees him for the rest of the weekend. I checked the twitter feed for CallumWatch.”

I turned to face her at the door of my bedroom. “CallumWatch? What the hell is that?”

“It’s a website that tracks his every move,” she said.

“Oh, well, that’s not disturbing,” I said.

“He’s a celebrity,” she said. “If he didn’t want people to look at him, then he shouldn’t have—”

“Have what? Been born to a Rutherford and a Broadway star?”

She bit her lip. “He probably hates stuff like that, doesn’t he?”

“Probably.” I started to close the door.

“Wait.” She caught the door with one hand. “Did you spend the weekend with him or not?”

“Not,” I said. “I mean… not exactly. Not like you’re thinking.”

She raised her eyebrows. “So, it wasn’t romantic?”

I wasn’t sure what to say. I twisted my hands together.

“Where’d you get those clothes? Did he give you those clothes?”

“Maybe.” I cringed.

“He gave you clothes, and it’s not romantic?”

I sighed.

She folded her arms over her chest. She looked hurt. “You knew that I had a crush on him. You knew that, and you went after him anyway.”

Now I felt like an ass. I had completely forgotten about Airenne’s obsession with Callum, and how this was going to affect her. I ran a hand through my hair.

“You’re wearing your hair down, too,” she said. “You never do that.”

“That’s only because you hog the bathroom every morning, and I don’t have time for a shower,” I muttered.

She drew back, looking even more hurt. “Well, you never said anything about that.”

Damn it. Everything was just getting fucked up. “It’s not a big deal.”

“No,” she said. “I thought we were friends.”

“We are.”

“I don’t think so,” she said. “Because if we were friends, you’d tell me that you were annoyed about how much time I spent in the bathroom, and you wouldn’t go after the guy that I like. You would have recognized he was off limits.”

I looked down at the carpet. “I’m sorry.”

“So, you’re admitting it then,” she said. “You were with him.”

“I…” I squeezed my eyes shut. “It’s complicated.”

She shook her head. “I don’t believe you.”

I felt horrible. “Airenne, I’m so sorry. I really am. I didn’t mean for this to happen. He wouldn’t let me leave.”

She went back into the hallway. “Wouldn’t he? Well, wasn’t I an idiot to bring you along with me to that party? If I hadn’t, he’d never have met you.”

As far as that went, she was slightly right. I might not have ever figured out Vigil’s secret identity if it hadn’t been for that party. But now I had, and I was having some kind of complicated, super screwed-up affair with him. I didn’t know that meant about me and Callum Rutherford. Truthfully, I still didn’t feel like I knew him very well. But I’d been fucking his body, even if I’d been calling him another name while he was inside me, and that meant I had some kind of dibs on him, didn’t it? “I’m sorry,” I said again.

“Yeah, I’m getting that.” She stalked away from me.

“Airenne…”

She turned at the end of the hallway, eyebrows raised. “What?”

“It just… happened,” I said. “I didn’t plan it. It was so fast, and I didn’t have time to even… think about what it might mean.”

She looked away. “Well, who would think? I mean, it’s Callum Rutherford. Just looking at him makes my insides get all disconnected and woozy.”

“He can be very… persuasive,” I said.

She glared at me. “You lucky little slut.”

It was my turn to look away.

“Seriously, you get laid all the time. First there was that guy in our apartment the other night. Now Callum Rutherford. I hate you, I really do.” But she sounded like she was less upset, like she was getting a little more okay with the idea.

I wished I could explain to her that actually, I’d only been having sex with one guy. But there was no way to make that make sense. So I just shrugged.

“You owe me, bitch,” she decided, thrusting her hands onto her hips.

“I do?”

“Yeah, you do,” she said. “You let me write an article on your weekend with Callum, and we’ll call it even.”

“An article? About me?”

“Uh huh,” she said. “And Callum. Readers would eat up an inside view of being in that house. With him.”

“I don’t know,” I said.

“You
owe
me.”

* * *

“Explain to me why you owe her again?” Vigil said, pulling me onto his motorcycle. We were in front of my apartment, and he was picking me up so that we could do a little detective work on Barclay.

“Well, she sort of saw you first, and then I sort of, you know, broke the girl code by being with you, so, she’s pissed,” I said.

He handed me a helmet. “What do you mean, she saw me first? No one saw me until you wrote those articles about me. Or at least, very few people did.”