2019.

As soon as Gracie walked through the door of Sprang & Sons, Brianna hit her with, “Whoa, are you all right?” Gracie nodded. Brianna squinted at her. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“Are you sure you’re sure?”

“I’m sure I’m sure.”

“Okay…” Her pinched brow told Gracie that Brianna was dropping the subject out of respect, but her concern for her younger co-worker wasn’t going anywhere.

While everything else in Sprang & Sons seemed old, dried out, and dusty, Brianna bathed the world around her in warmth and life. The store’s owner, Rich, possessed a keen eye for product and had developed a network of loyal customers, but if some kid left a candy wrapper on the shelf, he wouldn’t notice for weeks. Having Brianna around meant the store had someone who cared about taking care of things. 

Gracie knew that she, herself, was one of those things Brianna cared for, and sometimes it was nice. She would bring Gracie sweet tokens without warning or expectations — scratch-made cookies from home, an extra pair of good winter socks from a buy-one-get-one deal, a free movie pass she picked up somewhere. 

What had happened last night, though, wasn’t something Gracie wanted Brianna to fret over. What would Gracie have said, anyway? “I came home to find my roommate beaten all to hell, got into a fight with her dirtbag boyfriend, and then received a visit from Titan City’s very own masked vigilante…” 

What could Brianna really say to that? What sort of help could she give? But the worst part would be that, if Gracie told her what had happened, she’d have to acknowledge that it had.

For the most part, the workday went by normally. The usual customers came in the usual waves and did the usual business. That mindless predictability was a blessing. Gracie didn’t think she could take any more excitement just yet.

She knew she shouldn’t keep checking her phone but couldn’t stop herself. All it showed her was the last line of text she’d sent Kristen before leaving the hospital. Please call when you can. Please let me know you are ok. Each hour that passed without reply seemed more proof that Kristen was not, in fact, ok.

As Brianna went to take her lunch, she asked, “Want me to pick you up something from the bodega?” Gracie shook her head. She still had no appetite.

But finally alone in the bookstore, Gracie did what she’d wanted to do all morning. She went back to the True Crime section and picked up the copy of Nights of Justice that douchebag had pointed out.

She rang herself up for it without using her employee discount. They were supposed to write in a ledger which books they had purchased with their discount. No discount meant no evidence of a sudden interest in the Crimson Wraith, and no questions why.

The author, former Police Chief Harlan Goodman, had written it following his retirement from a thirty-five-year career in 1989 — or, as he put it, “after having passed the fear of exposing secrets and of any harm that may come to myself or my loved ones as a result.” In his introduction, he went on to say:

Rumors and fear have often surrounded the Crimson Wraith and his sidekick the Wily Wisp. He has, at times, been branded both murderer and deviant by those who enjoy the luxury of observing the dangers and deprivations of Titan City from a comfortable distance. But for those of us who place our lives on the line for the safety of others, it remains unspoken wisdom that, without the assistance of the Crimson Wraith, these streets would be far less safe…

Goodman went on to describe his first meeting with the vigilante:

It may paint me a biased narrator that I owe the Crimson Wraith my life. So be it. I believe my personal experience gives me greater insight than those who wonder at him from afar…

Then Gracie looked up from the page and realized she had been reading for longer than was safe. She hid the book in her backpack only a few minutes before Brianna walked in.

On the bus ride home, Gracie stared out her window as sunset splashed fire across gleaming skyscrapers that belched out swarms of crisply dressed professionals, who were immediately hassled by street vendors pushing the evening paper. 

Her texts to Kristen remained unanswered. She sent another: Going home to change and clean. Will feed J&J. Coming to hospital after.

As she made her way up the sidewalk, Jerry and Joe started barking as soon as they saw her from the front window. Weird to come home to only them. Probably both had shit the carpet a few times.

Then a voice came from behind her. “Excuse me, Miss Chapel?”

Startled, Gracie turned to see a woman in a navy pantsuit stepping out of a car. There was a streak of gray in the black hair she wore scraped back in a ponytail 

“Yeah?”

The woman held up her hands. “Please, don’t be afraid. I’m just here to talk.” 

There’s nothing more alarming than being told not to be afraid. “Who are you?”

“My name is Esperanza Villagrana, and I work with Titan City Police. I would like to speak to you about last night.”

So the Crimson Wraith had come through after all, handing Zack over to the proper authorities. Maybe that son of a bitch was actually going to get what was coming to him.

Esperanza gestured toward the door. “Please, can we step inside?”

“I have dogs,” she said.

Esperanza nodded. “I can hear them, yes.”

As they both entered the apartment, Jerry and Joe barked aggressive welcomes, but these didn’t trouble Gracie’s visitor. Esperanza just smiled at them and said, “Good doggy. Yes, you’re a good doggy.” They were letting her pet them before Gracie turned on the lights.

“I need to…” Gracie muttered. “The dogs haven’t been out all day.”

“You go right ahead,” Esperanza said as she sat down. “Please, take your time.”

Gracie leashed the dogs, guided them out the back, and held steady on the porch step as the two strained to be let loose. It wasn’t the time for that, not with a visitor who worked with TCPD. Maybe she was a social worker, someone who operated alongside the police on domestic violence cases, someone to handle the softer side of things while they stomped around, trying to look tough.

The dogs’ business done, Gracie gave them their treats and went back to sit with Esperanza. “Okay, what’s up?”

“First, I want you to know that you are not required to say anything to me. Do you understand? That is your legal right.”

“That’s cool, yeah.”

“Now, I need to ask you a couple of things,” Esperanza continued. “First, have you had any contact with your roommate today?”

“No, nothing since I left the hospital this morning.”

“Well, she has regained consciousness. And we have spoken with her. Miss Chapel, do you have any legal counsel?”

“You mean, like, an attorney?”

“Yes.”

“No. God, no. Why?”

“Well, you see, after her boyfriend was placed in our custody, we went to speak with your roommate about the incident and asked if she wanted to press charges against him. She says that she does not.” And her eyes met Gracie’s meaningfully. “But he does.”

“He wants to press charges? For what? What can he charge her with?” Maybe Kristen had managed to get a few hits in defensively, but how the hell could he charge her for that when he was the one who sent her to the hospital?

“Once again, I want to remind you that you are under no obligation to relate to me any details of how you remember last night. But we took his statement, and as he tells it, you assaulted that young man without provocation…”

Gracie shot up from her seat. “Motherfucker!”

“Please, please. Stay calm.” 

“Calm? What the hell? You’re telling me that asshole thinks he can sue me after what he did to her? That’s bullshit! Fucking bullshit!”

“Miss Chapel, there is no need to raise your voice.” Esperanza raised a hand, and as she did, her jacket opened slightly, showing Gracie the badge clipped to her waist and the gun holstered at her side. Esperanza Villagrana was no social worker. “Please, sit.”

Gracie lowered herself back into the recliner. Her knees were feeling weak, anyway.

Esperanza continued, “Now, that is just how he tells it. A judge will have to make his own determination, but the charge in question is particularly serious. It includes an allegation that you attacked him with a bladed weapon?”

“What? No! Well, I mean…”

“Please, do not say anything about it. The wound on his leg does seem to support his claim, and that is where it should be left for now. The charge being made against you is that of aggravated assault.”

“That son-of-a-bitch…”

“Tomorrow, I would like for you to come down to the station of your own volition. Can I trust you to do that?”

The jigsaw pieces started coming together in Gracie’s mind. “Am I being arrested?”

“I have handcuffs with me if I need them. But I don’t think I need them. Do I?”

Gracie shook her head. Her mouth felt dry. “I don’t want to go to jail.”

“I do not want that for you either.” Her voice lowered. Eyebrows raised. “And neither does our mutual friend.”

“Friend?”

Esperanza nodded slowly. “In red…”

Holy shit. So, Goodman wasn’t the only cop who was tight with the Crimson Wraith.

Esperanza continued. “Please, listen. As an officer of the law, I am not in a position to give legal advice. But I am not just here as an officer of the law.”

From her shirt pocket, Esperanza pulled a business card with a few words scribbled on the back, and she handed it to Gracie. The front read Bradley Hancock Attorney-at-Law. On the back were written the words, I met a man at midnight.

 “Even if you already possessed legal counsel of your own,” she said, “Mr. Hancock has a special affinity for this sort of case. You will not need to pay for his services. Simply say the words written there when you call.”

“I met a man at midnight?”

“He will understand. And he will help. He is someone with whom we also have a friend in common.”

The police, a lawyer, and a costumed vigilante? Who else was in on this?

“This is fucking nuts,” said Gracie.

“Yes, it may seem that way.”

Gracie felt tears starting to well up. She fucking hated that, but this woman seemed reasonable. Maybe she would hear Gracie out. “Look… That guy? That creep you say is charging me with assault? Yeah, he is not a good guy. For real. He is a very-not-good-guy. He beat the shit out of Kristen. She’s not in the hospital right now for falling down some stairs, you know? This apartment doesn’t even have stairs!”

“Cálmate, por favor.”

Gracie didn’t speak Spanish, but she did hear the word “calm” in there. Esperanza’s pleading eyes filled in the gaps. 

“Our justice system… it’s just a tool, and a tool can be used by good people or bad people. Mr. Hancock is a good person. Call him. Please. He will help you. And the man you met last night, he is a good person too. He is going to do everything he can to make sure justice gets done. So, tomorrow morning, you call Bradley. Talk with him, and then come downtown to see me.”

“What about you? Are you a good person too?”

“I try. In my own way.” Esperanza stood to leave. “Good night, Miss Chapel.”