Page 16 of Silent Vendetta (Vendetta Duet)

Trigger-happy.

“Detective?” a cop shouted down from the upper level. “You want to take a look at this?”

Rinaldi looked at me one more time and whispered, “You don’t have to do this now, when he’s watching. But if you squeeze my hand, I’ll know you’re in danger, and I will get you out of this.”

This offer could save my life.Maybe there was a way I could do it, but before I had the chance to fully process it, Rinaldi ascended the grand staircase.

I didn’t want her to leave me—she was my only hope of getting out of this—so I followed her.

What if it could work and I could tip her off without Hunter knowing? What if I could get myself rescued, but in a way that wouldn’t endanger anybody? If Rinaldi suspected domestic violence, maybe officers would feign leaving and return discreetly once Hunter’s guard was down.

And she knew Hunter had security cameras they’d have to avoid.

I followed her down the long hallway, but when I realized she was heading for the master bedroom, my heart became a storm in my chest. It thundered even harder when I watched her follow the police officer into Hunter’s closet. Where the guy pointed to something on the floor.

Something at the base of the secret door.

“Might be nothing,” the officer said. “But thought it was odd. Such an immaculate house to see mud like that.”

Odd indeed. The warehouse had been dirty, and that didn’t even include the parking lot where Hunter must have loaded Franco’s body into the trunk of his car. Hunter might have entered his den of evil through a different location, but he had also tromped this way when he’d brought me upstairs to answer the door.

Or maybe the mud was old and had nothing to do with tonight. Who knew, but it piqued their curiosity enough to start looking around the closet more thoroughly.

Hunter appeared in the doorway.

“Do you mind explaining this?” Rinaldi pointed to the small smear of dirt.

Hunter stepped inside and glanced at the mark.

“I run several times a week. About a week ago, it was raining, and my shoes got muddy. I carried them up the stairs, but when I put them on the shelf”—he nodded toward a pair of dirty running shoes that sat among many others along the secret door—“they fell off. I’m afraid my housekeeper hasn’t gotten around to cleaning it up just yet.”

Hunter’s voice was so unconcerned that he’d even convinced me that was how the mud got there.

But the question was, would that satisfy Detective Rinaldi, who had grown more suspicious of Hunter’s behavior throughout the search?

As officers searched the other rooms, Rinaldi lingered in the closet. Looking at his collection of colognes, his shoes, his shirts. I don’t know what she was looking for or if she was just trying to get under Hunter’s skin or maybe give me time to come up and squeeze her hand, but she searched the closet twice before returning to the shelves of shoes.

Staring at the hidden door.

Studying it.

My breathing quickened, and I glanced at Hunter, who placed his hand in his armed pocket.

CHAPTER10

Luna

Rinaldi turned from the door and walked up to me.

She reached down and took my hand. “I’m glad you’re okay, Luna.”

Her hand was soft and warm, her eyes encouraging me to give her the secret plea for help—a squeeze.

But if I did, what if she didn’t handle it discreetly enough? What if Hunter noticed the change and pulled his gun?

In the confines of the closet, the distinct scent of musk cologne clung to the air around us, mixing with the faint, steady hum of air-conditioning. The cool, recycled air touched my lips, and for a brief moment, I could almost taste the freedom that lay beyond the door. Rinaldi’s gaze met mine, eyes deep and possibly filled with the promise of salvation.

After a few more heartbeats, she dropped my hand. “My cell is always on.”

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