Page 97 of The Councilor
Roman whimpered and stomped his foot as he grabbed his face.
“Fucking talk, Roman. You have five seconds and I am running out of patience.”
“Do you remember the name Jericho Jaxen?”
I had to think. Vadim was doing his best to hide his conversation, completely turned away.
Roman huffed, coughing more than once before pulling something from his pocket. I snatched it before he had a chance to do a goddamn thing explaining what he had.
The name was familiar, but I couldn’t quite place it.
One look at the photograph of the man being led off the prison and I realized why.
It wasn’t one of the finer moments of my career. In fact, it was right after I’d come on board with Roman. The kid had gone after the man responsible for killing his sister in cold blood. The case had resonated, which was why I’d taken it on.
Jericho had been a low-level criminal, performing strongarm shit for the Italian mafia. While I’d tried at first, the kid telling me he caught the asshole red-handed ready to kill another girl, I’d been halfhearted about it at that point. I’d known I was going to lose.
The crime had been too bloody, too premeditated.
And I’d been right. The sentence had been life behind bars. Given the death sentence had been abolished, he’d wallowed in a horrible prison. I could only imagine what the kid’s good looks had forced him to endure.
“Jericho?” I asked. “There’s no way he was released. Not even with good behavior.”
“Yeah, well, you weren’t told he got himself a new attorney who had the charge reduced down to voluntary manslaughter, time served.”
“Why the fuck wasn’t I told this?” I asked more out of professional courtesy than anything else.
“It would appear he has some connections.” Roman was rattled but his attention was drawn away as Vadim walked closer.
“It would seem the sniper’s horizons have widened. Two of the jurors on his case were murdered, shot from a high-powered, long-range rifle from a significant distance. Four of the other jurors remain in the city, the others moved or died. The prosecutor on the case is currently MIA.”
The news was disturbing but some of the pieces weren’t completely falling into place. “He’s going down his list.” My brain was wacked enough it shifted into the phrase, ‘and checking it twice.’
“Apparently, which means a good portion of the city is on lockdown.”
“Which is what he wants. They fucking police commissioner needs to have the reporters tell people no open blinds. No traveling.”
That wasn’t going to happen. You didn’t just stop a city in mid-action because of a couple of murders. It didn’t work that way.
“We need to concentrate on getting her back,” he told me.
“Then I need every known associate, every possible place this fucker could be holed up,” I told Roman. He more than owed me one. When I spun to face Vadim, he already knew what I was going to say.
“Don’t worry,” he said through clenched teeth. “I’ve contacted certain associates still in the illegal guns business. Just stay calm.”
“Calm? My entire life is being pulled out from under me, Vadim, and you want me to remain calm? Not a fucking chance.” I turned and headed toward my bedroom.
“Where are you going?” Vadim pressed.
“To change. I’m going hunting. And I will find her. You will call me with a list of places I should visit, people I should kill.” It wasn’t a request but a command and the men in the room knew it.
“One other thing,” he said. “The reporter who wrote the article? My guess is he was hired by this Jericho. He’s dead.”
“Cleaning up loose ends. I bet that girl, Jasmine, was hired to provide insider information as well.”
“I’ll keep an eye out.”
“Good.” As I walked away, I could tell every man in the room remained concerned.