There’s just enough light from the moon for us to see her pull a knife out of her running jacket and jimmy open one of the upstairs windows.
I wave my hand as I step off the curb to cross the street, motioning for Rory and Luke to follow me. As we enter the small front yard, there’s a commotion inside.
“Damnit,” Luke curses, and we all sprint for the front door, not bothering to remain quiet ourselves.
I make it to the door first and shove with my shoulder. Like the rest of the house, the thing must’ve already been on its last leg, because it gives way easily. We stumble through into the living room as we hear a crash toward the back.
Heading for the sound, we find ourselves in the kitchen and see Savannah as she exits through the back door, but she doesn’t see us.
She’s gone.
“Holy fuck,” Rory swears under his breath, gaping down at the floor.
Luke and I finally take notice. Our faces shift and match Rory’s shock.
On the ground lies a shirtless man in his boxers—hisbloodyboxers. His neck has been slit. Blood spray decorates the white cabinets. The small table and chairs are overturned and scattered. The counters are a mess, but that doesn’t look like itwas from a struggle. It appears that the homeowner is simply disorganized.
Rory steps forward, examining something on the man’s chest. He twists his head to the side, getting a better look. Then he utters, “Oh my God.”
“What?” Luke asks as we move to Rory’s side together.
Rory lowers down onto one knee, pointing at a few papers. “I think Savannah is the Avenging Angel of Brooklyn.”
When I study the papers closely, I realize there’s a knife that has been stabbed through the papers and into his chest.
“The what?” Luke asks.
Rory gives Luke a baffled look. “Do you not watch the news?”
Luke raises his hands in defense. “Not often. It’s depressing.”
I step to the other side of the dead body, scan the print on the papers, and read aloud the important bits. “Mitchem Stanford. Twenty-eight years old. Blah blah blah.” My eyes widen. “He was about to be convicted of statutory rape, but the charges were dropped.” Grabbing a random fork from the counter behind me, I use it to look at the next page. “The girl was fifteen and recanted her statement. Police suspect Mitchy boy here harassed and bullied her into silence, but they couldn’t prove it. I guess the evidence they had wasn’t concrete, so they had to let the case go.”
Rory slaps his thighs and stands. “That confirms it for me. Savannah has been moonlighting as a vigilante. Kinda sexy, if I’m being honest.”
“How would you know? The police haven’t released all the details about the Avenging Angel cases,” I argue.
Rory raises a single brow. “You should resign as CEO if you can’t hack a simple police database.”
“Why would I feel the need to hack a police database for something completely unrelated to me?” I hold my hand out in a questioning gesture.
Rory crosses his arms. “Boredom, curiosity, true crime obsession. I could go on.”
Luke blinks rapidly. “You’re the CFO. When are you ever bored?”
“I’m feeling judged right now.” Rory holds his hands up to Luke and me.
“That’s because wearejudging you,” Luke responds in a flat tone.
I love them, but sometimes their banter happens at the most inconvenient times.
“Yeah, yeah. Let’s address that later,” I interrupt. “We need to do something about this right now.” I motion to the dead body.
“Savannah already took care of the scumbag. We can’t kill him twice.” Rory shakes his head.
My lips turn thin. “I mean, we need to make sure she didn’t leave behind any evidence.”
“And how do you suggest we do that? I left my crime scene clean-up kit at home,” Luke returns sarcastically.
