Vigilare (21 page)

“Overruled,” Judge Carter interjects. “You may continue, Ms. Raines. Do so carefully.”

“On the night in question, did you follow Tessa into her bedroom, hover over her bed, touch her inappropriately, asking if she’d ever made it with a boy, and would she like to?”

“No,” Randall huffs and puffs. “She’s fifteen. She’s going to say anything to get attention.”

“Tessa and her mother testify Vigilare is a hero. If she hadn’t arrived, they believe you would have raped Tessa. Would you? Have raped her, Randall?”

“No.” His eyes darting about. “I was tucking her in, that’s all. She must’ve misunderstood.”

“Like Rudy Sangino and Tiffany Darcy? I’m sure they misunderstood your intentions, too. That’s why your DNA was found on the body of, and inside Tiffany Darcy, and surely why Rudy Sangino was able to describe, in great detail, your anatomy and what you made him do to it.”

Randall’s face reddens. He grows angry.

“Oh, excuse me. Am I offending you, Mr. Barnes?” Aubrey bites. “Is that cause for you to make threats about pinning me against the wall and pulling my skirt up over my head, like you did in your rehab session with Dr. Ryan?”

“Objection,” Mr. McVain jumps in.

“Sustained,” Judge Carter backs him. “You’ve made your point, Ms. Raines. Move on.”

“‘The freak lunged at me. Threw its hands around my neck and squeezed. Its eyes. I couldn’t look away from them, and they shined like a ray of green light, burning mine,’” Aubrey quotes. “Does that statement sound familiar, Randall?”

He looks at her, without answering. His expression still laced with contempt, fully retaliatory and pissed off.

“That’s the statement you gave to Vanguard Police Department hours after the incident at your apartment with Vigilare.” She walks closer to him, forcing him to look at her.

He does not answer, only continues to boil.

She presses on, “You do realize you’re under oath, right? It’s so rare and off the wall...‘a ray of green light.’ Why would you even mention such a thing to Vanguard PD, if you never really saw it, as you stated here, earlier?”

His lip quivers, his jaw clenching, attempting to hold back venomous words, unsuccessfully. “Why would you wear a tight blouse hugging every curve of your tits if you didn’t want it. You stand there and chastise me,” he stands from his chair, pointing his finger in Aubrey’s direction. “You’re asking for it!”

“Mr. Barnes,” Judge Carter begins.

A loud clatter is heard from the defense table. Gina flips the entire table onto its surface in her effort to get to Randall.

“And I’m gonna give it to you. You little slut, bitch...”

The words from Randall’s mouth are muted by Gina’s hands grasping around his neck as she leaps up onto the witness stand, pummeling into Randall. The force knocks him back into his chair.

“Order!” Judge Carter shouts. The courtroom explodes. Dr. Ryan looks to Mr. McVain, who stays seated at the prosecution table. He returns her glance, shrugging his shoulders and throwing his hands up in the air.

Tony stands in the back of the room, making swift progress toward the front. The bailiff heads him off as two guards grab hold of Gina, pulling her from Randall. Aubrey goes to her side, as the guards hold her at bay, perched in front of the witness stand.

“Order!” Judge Carter adamantly bangs her gavel.

Tony watches Aubrey talk quietly to Gina, stroking her arm. The guards continue to hold her, one on each side. Aubrey feels moisture on her hand at the same time Tony notices a trickle of red running down Gina’s forearm.

Shit!
Aubrey and Tony choke simultaneously to themselves. Tony motions across the courtroom to Dr. Godfrey, who watches the scene with a gentle smile. He too notices the blood, the smile quickly vanishing from his expression. Dr. Ryan now catching sight of the sticky red substance running down Gina’s arm, eyes Dr. Godfrey, a concerned expression overriding her usual dicey demeanor. He reaches in his pocket, for his ever-trusty syringe, pulling himself to a standing position.

Judge Carter shakes her head at the entire scene and continues to bang her gavel, waiting momentarily for the commotion to pass.

Randall wipes his hand across his face, blowing air out of his puffed cheeks, symbolizing a close call. His fingernails exhibiting traces of Gina’s skin, accompanied by a red tint. He sits back in his chair, his heart pounding fast and furious as Gina’s picks up its own rhythm. Feeling brave with her containment, “What’s the matter, cat got your tongue?” he says, smirking, the question sticking in his mind from his run-in with her in the elevator.

The question rings through her head, echoing. An image of herself behind the prosecution table flashes through her mind. She shakes her head, but the snapshots keep coming. Randall is replaced by the guy with the spider web tattoo on his neck. She is questioning him. Gina closes her eyes trying to focus, unable to as the steady thud of her internal pulse begins to race, keeping time in her head, once again as strong and audible as a drum.

“That’s it, close your eyes, Gina,” Aubrey coaches as she busily tears the sleeve off her blouse, wrapping it around Gina’s arm, attempting to fully cover the exposed flesh and blood. “Just breathe.”

Gina obeys, inhaling, a task that seems to take forever, filling her lungs. The expansion of her ribcage nearly causing her pain, the surging of her muscle fibers begins with each extra oxygen molecule delivered to them via her air and blood exchange. The images continue to flood her memory. She is crawling from a bed, the sheets and her body covered in blood. She feels limp and lifeless. It takes every ounce of her strength to get to the foot of the bed, where she plummets off onto the floor weeping at the sight of a man and a little boy.

“You can’t come back here,” Judge Carter’s directions to Dr. Godfrey sound hollow and detached as Gina hears them ripple through the air, temporarily interrupting her memory. Dr. Godfrey is met by the bailiff at the gate to the prosecution table, leaving Tony unaccompanied. “Detective,” Judge Carter turns her attention to him as he slips through the gate on the defense end. Judge Carter bangs her gavel repetitively, as the courtroom chatter rises once again. “Detective, take your seat.”

“DeLuca,” Tony speaks her name gently, approaching her. The guards to each side of her brace themselves, tightening their grip around her shoulders as her resistance grows with each
lub dub
of her heart. “Stay with me,” Tony coaxes, his hands firm and familiar, placed on each side of her hips.

With the touch of his hand, the snapshots begin again. The man and little boy lay on the floor of the bedroom, heads side by side, their feet at opposite ends. The boy’s hand lies still, firmly tucked inside his father’s. The blood from their bodies pools around them, forming an all-encompassing circle.

Aubrey stands in front of Gina, having fully covered the blood from her arm. Gina opens her eyes, attempting to stop the images of the man and the little boy. Her eyes instinctively dart around Aubrey, swiftly falling on Randall. Once she zeroes in on him, the outer silhouette of her iris begins to sparkle emerald green.

“Gina,” Aubrey beckons. “Detective,” she calls to Tony, readily bracing herself in front of Gina.

“DeLuca,” Tony keeps his voice soothing and low. “Not here.” He steps even closer to her until his firm, perpetually swollen chest rests against her back. Gina’s eyelids settle, as lash meets lash with his closeness. One more image of the man and the little boy is delivered as she sees herself, her head nestled beside theirs, her hand under the boy’s, cupping it tightly against his father’s. Her final tears shed into the mixture of blood cascading over the wooden floor.

She opens her eyes, empty and hollow now. Solitary tears, one from each eye, mimic those of her memory, trailing down the side of her face. Aubrey quickly and gently extinguishes them. The tiny sparkle on the outer rim of Gina’s large, almond-shaped green eyes flickers, much like a light bulb dimming out.

“Court dismissed,” Judge Carter sputters, fully perturbed and exhausted. “Show’s over. Everybody out. I should hold the lot of you in contempt.”

“Good enough,” Mr. McVain agrees, packing up his briefcase, leading the white coats and Dr. Ryan out of the room.

“Guards,” Judge Carter addresses the men continuing to hold Gina. “Take her back to County.”

“My client’s sincerest apologies, Your Honor,” Aubrey offers.

Judge Carter nods her head dismissively, simply ready to be free of the chaotic courtroom. “Detective,” she calls to Tony.

Oh great
, he mutters to himself.
Here we go
.

“Can I trust you to take Mr. Barnes to the station?” she asks. Tony looks at her perplexed. “I want him booked to the fullest extent for assault of an attorney and disruption of a court of law.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” Tony happily confirms, making a beeline for Randall.

The guards finish re-shackling Gina, escorting her to the side door.

“Viva Vigilare! Viva Vigilare!” chants erupt sporadically throughout the courtroom.

Judge Carter smacks her gavel, finally cracking the handle. “Get out of my courtroom.” She throws her hands up in the air, motioning for the bailiff. He helps her down from her podium and accompanies her through the exit.

Chapter 14

She, who knows not of her power, purpose nor her gift,

Unaccepting of such burden,

Surely awaits the spell to lift.

Visions, confusion, her flesh bleeds of crimson red,

Eyes sparkle emerald green,

Voices, heartbeats, sounds of raging thunder in her head.

Involuntary of her body, instinct leads the way,

Akin to the lone wolf,

Trudging bravely into evil, is she predator or prey?

If all things happen for a reason, the sunshine, rain and snow,

If the ones she loved lie dead,

When will it, too, be her time to go?

A mission left unfinished, two wrongs for a right?

The chosen one emerges,

A Vigilare, the keeper of the night
.

MIDNIGHT. VANGUARD COUNTY Jail. Gina lies on her back on the dingy mattress free of a sheet, her eyes focused on the ceiling. Her dinner, from six hours earlier, remains fully intact on its tray in front of the sliding barred door. Footsteps saunter down the hallway, stopping in front of her cell.

      “Didn't care for dinner?” The voice certainly not the one she expected.

A slight grin immediately forms on her lips. “How’d you get in here? Wait,” she quiets his reply. “Let me guess...your charm,” she says, playfully rolling her eyes as she sits up on the edge of the bed. “Ah man,” she chirps, her taste buds poked and watering.

“From Aniello’s,” Tony says, carrying a pizza under one arm, a six-pack of lager under the other. “Pizza Margaret,” he famously fumbles the name with a wide smile. “Your favorite.”

“Margherita,” she snickers. “Pizza Margherita, Gronkowski.” His last name rolling off her tongue, something routine and familiar, provides her with comfort. “Just exactly how do you propose we do this?” she asks, walking to the cell door, assuming he will have to sit outside the door as she sits on the inside.

Dangling a key in front of her, he grins, shrugging his shoulders. “Night guard at the front, she and I were in the same academy. We used to...”

Gina holds up her hand. “I don’t care to know what you used to do.”

“Jealous?” he inquires playfully.

“What if I am?” she spars back.

He shakes his head, chuckling. The turn of the key offers up a
cha-chink
as the lock is released. Internally, Gina feels quite excited by both the prospect of the pizza as well as human interaction, especially with Tony. Externally, she maintains, controlling the urge to throw her arms around his neck as he slides the door back and steps over the threshold. Tony is thankful his arms are full of pizza and beer, or he may not have the willpower to refrain from throwing them around her. She sits on the concrete in front of the bed, crossing her legs, one into the other. Tony does the same, setting the large, flat cardboard box down between them. For the moment, neither one speaks, exchanging glances and preparing for a much-needed meal, simply enjoying the comfort of being together again, even if not as partners. Tony flips the box open, divvying out two slices of pizza while Gina pops the tops of two beers.

“Hmm,” she sounds as the first bite of pizza hits her palate, her eyes open momentarily. “Spit it out,” she says, identifying the urgency in Tony’s face.

He wipes his hands in his napkin, washing a bite of pizza down with some lager. “The elevator. Randall Barnes,” he speaks in clues first. “Your DNA was never found at that scene, right?”

“Right. But it wasn’t found at a few of the other scenes either. Apparently, when, and if I’m Vigilare, I’m pretty crafty.” She smiles weakly.

“Dr. Ryan. Her DNA was found on a strand of hair from the elevator.”

“What?”

“Yep. I turned her in to CSI then as a suspect. It’s public record. No favors.” He grins.

“Her hair could’ve been on Randall, from the incident in her office,” Gina defends.

“Could’ve,” Tony agrees. “But, maybe not.”

Gina starts on her second piece of pizza, finally finding some comfort in food after being exposed to three-squares of
slop
while incarcerated. “You still think she’s involved somehow.” Gina shakes her head. “You were in the courtroom today. There’s one major suspect in this case, and you’re looking at her. Hell, you’re one of the only people to witness me in
Vigilare-mode
and live to tell about it.” Guilt and shame audible in her confession. She looks around the cell, and at Tony. “Aren’t you scared? Of me?”

He chuckles. “No, DeLuca, I’m not scared of you. If you were a threat, you would’ve taken me out that night at Randall’s. You didn’t. Aubrey, Tessa, me...you or Vigilare,” he shrugs his shoulders, continuing, “knows the difference between good and evil, somehow. I think it’s that eye thing you do.” He throws his napkin into the cardboard box, a sign of bowing out of the eating arena, opening one more bottle of lager, his dessert. “Besides, there has to be a logical explanation for this Vigilare thing. And she...you...it...whatever.” He shakes his head. “Has to be a direct extension of you. And I know that’s good and just. You have to trust yourself, Gina.”