CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
The Beachwood Canyon farmers market was crowded, which made it hard to keep an eye on the woman.
As the redeemer—a self-coined but never spoken title—followed her, they made sure to keep a safe distance.
If the woman turned around, she would almost certainly recognize the redeemer.
That would complicate matters when the time for retribution came.
So the redeemer stayed about a hundred feet back and always kept other people between them.
There was something powerful about having chosen to self-identify by the term “redeemer,” even if it was only in their head. It reminded them of their larger mission, even amid each individual act of righteousness.
They weren’t just redeeming these women by freeing them from their earthly bodies, they were also redeeming legitimate, honest immigrants from the taint of these women. The redeemer didn’t hate all immigrants, or even most. Only a particular subset fueled their rage.
As the redeemer passed a stand filled with citrus fruits, they silently re-affirmed their mission: to punish those who were using the system as a way to destroy families and accumulate wealth.
Just like the woman the redeemer was following now, they were all guilty.
This one might seem innocuous enough as she browsed a flower stall, but she wasn’t.
Each of these women had committed the same crime.
They were seducing and manipulating well-meaning American men, using these green card marriages as a transaction; as a means of exploiting the men for money and citizenship.
But that wasn’t the most insidious part.
They were also planning their betrayals. At some point, each of these women would do what happened to the redeemer’s father: murder him, claim self-defense, then take all his wealth, leaving the unsuspecting child without a father or a birthright.
It was true that neither Yuki Tanaka nor Maria Cain had children with their husbands yet, but that wasn’t the point.
They would have eventually. And then those children would be abandoned by women interested only in wealth and the benefits their new home provided.
They would be rich widows, spending the money of men they’d both killed and ruined the good names of.
That’s what happened to the redeemer’s father.
His reputation was destroyed by the abuse allegations of the “victim.” It was her word against his and he wasn’t around anymore to speak on his own behalf.
In a strange way, the redeemer was actually helping immigrants, though it likely didn’t look like that to anyone on the outside, including those investigating the killings.
By eliminating the worst offenders, those who selfishly ruined the process for others, the path was cleared for the good ones, the honest ones, the hard-working people who only wanted to make a living and raise a family.
By doing this hard, admittedly ugly work, the redeemer was protecting families from these black widows—predators disguised as loving wives. It might take a long time, but eventually, society would see the truth: the redeemer was pruning the bush of immigration so that it could survive.
The next pruning would be tonight.