Page 54 of Silent Vendetta (Vendetta Duet)

Barry hesitated. “When you asked me to look into the letter that threatened Ms. Payne, I’d pulled the case files, just so I could be thorough and to get my bearings,” Barry said. “At the time I’d read the file, I was just trying to familiarize myself with the case, but I’d made a note of something. I wondered why the pants hadn’t been tested.”

“And?” Hunter asked impatiently.

“It seems there was a small amount of paint on the jeans,” Barry said.

My heart thudded, hope and anxiety waging a war.

“It could be nothing,” Barry cautioned. “Like I said, it’s premature to presume anything.”

“But you think it means something.”

“I think it might,” Barry clarified. “My guess is, the police were focused on finding the murder weapon, so the items sent off for testing were objects they’d found around the body and in that alley. A pipe, a large rock, a beer bottle. But no one tested the kid’s jeans. It surprised me they didn’t rule out what kind of paint it was and how it got there.”

“Why didn’t they test it?” I asked.

Barry cleared his throat. “I can’t be sure, but I think the police were under pressure to move fast and neglected it. The prosecutor focused on evidence that would support his case.”

“What do you think the paint means?” I asked.

“I’d rather not speculate,” Barry said. “That’s what got your father into this mess to begin with. But I have a lab lined up ready to test it today.”

A surge of optimism took flight, wings fluttering like a trapped butterfly.

“Meanwhile, I left a message with an M.E. to have a second review of the autopsy. Told him it was urgent, so hoping he calls me back soon.”

“Good,” Hunter said. “If you get any pushback on the evidence, you call me right away. I’ll pull strings. Same thing with the M.E. And while you do that, send several of your guys to the courthouse. Find out who had access to the judge’s schedule or this case file.”

“I will, sir, but I want to caution you again. The time frame we’re working with…”

“I know,” Hunter said. “Call me as soon as you have an update.”

Hunter ended the call.

“I need to call my dad, and get him prepped for court on Friday,” I said.

Hunter’s jaw clenched, veins prominent against his temple.

“Hunter, I’m not debating this again.”

“The threat…”

“Doesn’t change anything. Except for the urgency,” I amended. “I’m doing this no matter what, so the longer it drags out, the more time whoever this guy is has to come up with threats or whatever else they plan to do. The faster this resolves, the less time they have to act. So, speed is our asset, not theirs.”

Hunter must have seen the determination on my face, because he thinned his lips and didn’t argue further. Instead, he leaned down so his mouth was next to my ear, his breath tickling my skin as he whispered for only the two of us to hear.

“I can survive never finding out who killed my father if I have to. But I cannot survive if anything happens to you, Luna.”

Hunter tilted his head so his gaze could caress my own, and it was there—a silent assurance that he meant every word. I melted in the depth of his eyes, my heart swelling with the shift in my emotions.

Memories of Hunter’s chilling actions battled against his warmth, the sharp edges of horror blurring, overshadowed by the tenderness radiating off of him.

And as he continued to stare at me, the reasons I couldn’t, shouldn’t love Hunter began to crumble like a fragile sand castle before the crashing waves. His words lingered in the air, vibrant and heavy. I had told myself that feeling this way again was impossible, that I could remain immune to his love. But here I was, heart pounding, drowning in a wave of affection.

Transporting me back in time, back to our moments of laughter and whispered promises. The pain, the heartache, the emptiness—they were all there, but beneath them surged a powerful tide of love that I had believed I could bury too deep to resurrect.

And in the deafening silence that followed, I realized something with a terrifying clarity: I could never stop loving him.

But it was as shocking as it was tragic, because what realistic future did we have together?

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