56. CRIMSON NOIR

56

CRIMSON NOIR

YARA

T he next day, detectives Rishi and Rosario came by to take my statement about Logan Jones.

“It was suspicious, and I just wanted to make sure he wasn’t a threat to me. I already told you, Detective.”

Detective Patel, however, wasn’t buying any of the shit I was selling, but Detective Rosario nodded and smiled at me.

“Of course, you did good.”

“He was an artist, and all Amy found was a vandalism charge, so I didn’t even bother.”

“And then you ran into him at the art exhibition, right? That’s where you also met Daphne Morgan?” Rishi asked, his brows pinched, and Detective Rosario shook his head.

“Detective Patel, Doctor West looks pretty tired. We should let her rest.” The look he gave Detective Patel was a curt warning. Detective Rosario always had a soft spot for me. He was like a brother I never had. “Take your time, and come back to work soon, Doctor West. We have all we want.”

“Did you search Logan Jones’s place, Detective? Did you find more evidence?”

“We did a full sweep on both his apartment and his studio. Turned up with the paintings, locks of his victims’ hair, a few more pieces of evidence that tie him to the murder, but…”

“The garrote?”

The detective shook his head. “No garrote anywhere.”

As the detectives got up to leave, Rishi shot Ryden a skeptical look. “Can I talk with you, Sinclair?”

Ryden nodded and walked Rishi out while Detective Rosario stared at the paintings on my wall.

“Did you find any evidence, Detective?”

The detective let out a long sigh. “No. The crime scene was spotless, just as clean as his own. Someone staged him in front of the ME office, just like he staged his victims. It’s almost poetic if you think about it.” The detective laughed a little. “They say Karma is a bad bitch.”

“She is a bad bitch.”

Ryden came back a few moments later, and with a goodbye to us, Detective Rosario left.

“So? Did Rishi warn you against me? Ask you to get the fuck out of my lair?” I smiled, rubbing my hands together.

Grinning, Ryden pulled me close and put his hands on my shoulders. “No, he just told me to…. keep my eyes open.”

“Are you? You seem to be blind when it comes to me.”

He shrugged with a grin that made my heart stumble.

“I’m bored,” I said.

“I have ways to make you… not bored.” He winked. I threw a pillow at him, and he smiled. “I didn’t mean that, you dirty thing. I meant… I have to go to the office, and you can accompany me.”

“Really?” I needed to get out of this place.

“If you want. My editor just sent me a message. She wanted to talk to me about something very important.”

“Natalia,” I said with a smile, and he smirked.

“Of course, Stalker. Natalia.”

“Hey… you did it, too.”

“You did it first.”

When we walked into the glass-walled building, Ryden took my hand in his with a frown. “I loved not seeing Thatcher Perry’s face for days.”

“Why is he still alive?” I asked as we walked into the elevator.

“Because… if I killed him, I’d be the first suspect. Everyone knows how much I fucking hate him.”

“Come on. Don’t you want to officially meet Nat?” He pushed the glass door and motioned me to go in before he followed me.

“You’re here.” Natalia Porter looked at Ryden before she gave me a look. “And who is this beautiful woman with you?” She gave me a bright smile.

“That’s Yara. She’s my…” He looked at me with a smile. “We’re friends.”

Natalia hummed, a mischievous grin on her face, and then her smile turned into a grim frown. “So… The Strangler. Where’s the story?”

“DPD and FBI are still keeping it all hush-hush. How do you know?” Ryden asked as he pulled a chair for me. I sat down, and he followed.

“I have my ways,” Natalia said, tapping her fingers against the table. I loved the shade of her purple nail polish.

“Don’t worry. You’ll get your exclusive today. Is that why you…”

“No. It’s about Nikki Singh.”

Ryden’s body went stiff. “Don’t tell me to stop chasing a ghost, Nat. I’m tired of hearing it.”

“No, I’m telling you to start chasing it harder than before.”

“Why? What changed?” Ryden sat straight in his chair.

“Here…” Natalia pushed a folder toward him. “Nikki’s mother… she called back, and I found a connection for you.”

“She called? After all these months? I tried so hard to talk with her,” Ryden said as he opened the file and winced.

“She answered a few questions and said she found a brochure for AFC in Nikki’s drawer. She had no idea if it could mean anything. She also gave her number and practically begged that you call her.”

“And that’s the fucking thread. AFC.” Ryden stood up, clearing his throat, stalking back and forth. “Sofia at the AFC. Nikki had a brochure.”

“Art For Charity?” I asked, and he nodded. I often sent checks for them but never personally visited the organization.

“Yes. They mainly focus on aiding women who have suffered domestic violence, rape, and similar traumas. Sofia was a longtime volunteer there,” Natalia said with a sigh.

Ryden’s jaw clenched. I had a feeling he wanted to break something. He didn’t. He grabbed the folder and nodded to Natalia.

“Thanks for this, Nat.”

“Of course. You were right. You’re always right. I shouldn’t have doubted you.”

He gave her a pacifying smile. “It’s okay. This is the break I’ve been looking for. I’ll find something. Bye.”

When we walked to Ryden’s cubicle, the man we met at the art exhibit was standing there, his arms crossed, his starched shirt stiff.

“So, you’ve finally decided to grace us with your presence. I was starting to wonder whether Natalia had finally grown some balls and decided to fire you.”

“Why would she? He’s the best. If she finally grew some balls, I know someone she’d fire…” I trailed off with a smirk, and the man blustered, skin turning red. Pampered little shit.

“What the hell are you…”

“Oh, you thought I was talking about you? Why would you think that, Mr. Perry ?” I smirked. Ryden certainly looked like he was enjoying this as he grabbed files, papers, and documents from his drawer before locking it again.

“I haven’t got time to chit-chat, Thatcher. Let’s reschedule the tea party, shall we? I have a fucking killer to catch.”

“What killer? I thought… The Strangler is…”

“The one who killed Nikki Singh and Sofia.”

“You’re still at it?” Thatcher sneered as Ryden, and I walked past, ignoring him. “You will not…”

The elevator door closed, and I was glad I didn’t have to hear him drone on.

“I’m in awe of your self-restraint, Ryden Sinclair. But then again… you’re the same man who refused me for days when you desperately wanted to fuck me.”

“Obnoxious little slut,” he whispered. “For such a beautiful thing, you are so fucking dirty.” He leaned toward me and stopped when the elevator opened with a ding. “I’ll pay you back for it later. Let’s take a short detour to AFC first.”

Now that Logan was gone, there was no threat to any of us. I wanted to work with him on this case and kill together with him when it was time. I enjoyed what we did once.

“Let’s.”

The young woman at the reception desk greeted us with a nervous smile. She looked like she was new to the place. “Your boss, please?” I said with a reassuring smile. She shook her head.

“Hi. I’m Roberta. Miss Diaz isn’t here today. She was overlooking a charity event at Ann Arbor. If you tell me what…”

“Do you know Sofia Martinez or Nikki Singh? They were volunteers here,” I said. The girl looked jittery, and I could see marks on her forearm and neck. She had tried hard to conceal it, but it showed.

“I-I’m new here. I don’t know much.”

“Is there anyone else we can talk with, Roberta?”

“Everyone’s out working on the charity event. It’s the biggest one of the seasons.”

Ryden pulled out his business card and slid it toward her. “Thank you. Can you please give me a call when Miss Diaz comes back? I’m a journalist, and it’s about a case.”

“I’ll tell her to call you, Mr. Sinclair.”

Ryden cursed when we reached his car. “We finally have a lead, and we have nothing else.”

“We’re close, Ryden. Every hunt takes time, but I promise we will find this son of a bitch and burn him down. Together.”

After dinner, Ryden and I spent time with Sophia and Nikki’s file, going through all the details. “We need that brochure to know more about Nikki's connection with AFC. The killer might be someone working at AFC.” I nodded.

I had no idea when we fell asleep, but when I woke up, I saw Ryden sprawled out on the floor, asleep. My phone vibrated again. That was what woke me up. The sky was still wearing gray with a tinge of purple and pink, and like I’d always say, early morning phone calls rarely brought good news.

“Detective?”

“Doctor West, it isn’t… we made a mistake. That pinche pendejo… he played us.”

“What are you talking about?”

“The Strangler killed again, Doctor West. It’s…” his voice shook at the end. “Bastardo.” The detective sounded broken.

My stomach churned. The Strangler was dead. I made him scream in pain before I killed him, and then someone… put Logan Jones on display in front of my office.

Fuck. Fuck.

“What? What do you… You told me you found evidence Logan Jones was The Strangler. He fucking died.”

No. Fucking no. I couldn’t have made such a big mistake, but I knew I did. The Strangler was the one who dug out Logan’s body from the marsh.

I patted against Ryden’s cheek, waking him up. Putting the phone on speaker, I pressed a finger to my lips.

“We found the evidence, but we suspect Logan Jones might have been an accomplice and not The Strangler.”

Ryden’s eyes widened, and he mouthed Fuck me. I shook my head, gritting my teeth. No. I thought this mess was finally over. Anger roared inside me, and I wanted to stab someone a million times until the anger died.

“So are you telling me… he left another body?”

“Two bodies.”

“What do you mean by two bodies?” I squeaked. That wasn’t The Strangler’s MO. It was always… one woman. What the hell was happening here?

“I sent you the directions. Come as soon as possible, Doctor West.”

“What are you not telling…” He hung up before I could finish my sentence. “Something is so fucking wrong,” I whispered as Ryden grabbed his phone from the bedside table with a frown.

“I have two missed calls from Rishi,” he said. “Oh, he left a voicemail.”

“Ryden, call me as soon as you get this message. I think… Yara West is The Strangler, or she’s at least related to him. The Strangler’s last love letter from his kill in Baltimore—I got it from Agent Hayes, and it’s a freaking list. It’s the titles from the podcast, you know, by K.Y. Wolff. I did some digging, and I found out Yara was from the orphanage where Robert Miller worked. He was the second story in K.Y. Wolff’s podcast. I have a feeling that Yara is somehow in the middle of this shit show. Fuck man, we really should meet. Call me ASAP.”

My legs felt like blocks of ice, so did my heart.

Detective Patel was so wrong, but he was also right.

“If he digs deeper, he’ll find something. I was meticulous, but… he could still find something. Also, Robert Miller was a loose end.” I rubbed my eyes with a growl.

Everything was crumbling around me, and I was drowning in the debris of my creation.

“If Logan Jones wasn’t The Strangler, I need to find the one behind all this shit. The one who actually killed Kat. I can’t go to prison before that.”

“Let me call Patel. I’ll try to… you know, steer him away from this.”

“He trusts you. If you do that, he won’t trust you again. He won’t tell you anything anymore,” I said with a frown. “The call he made wasn’t professional. He was calling you as a friend.”

“He is a friend,” Ryden said with a curse.

“And he called you to warn you because he knows you’re dating me. Fuck…”

“Dating you?” Ryden smiled, looking very amused. “Is that what we’re doing?” He winked, and I wanted to throw something at that ridiculously handsome, stupidly distracting face. I couldn’t think about fucking him when my whole life and the lies I built were slowly unraveling.

This wasn’t the time.

Hell, you thought about fucking him when Logan was shooting at you. I can’t believe he wasn’t The Strangler. Kat’s voice was disappointed.

“Fucking. I mean, fucking me. He knows that, and he’s trying to protect you from me.”

“Well, he’s too late, Red. No one can protect me from you,” he said as he stood up. He stalked toward me and pressed me against the wall. “Rishi isn’t going to find your secrets.”

“What will you do?”

“I’ll think of something. Now we have to leave.”

“I can’t get caught. Not when the bastard is still out there.”

The uniforms at the scene weren’t looking at me like I was a suspect. I let out a long sigh of relief when I didn’t see Detective Rishi with handcuffs to arrest me. I was… in the clear for now. He’d soon find some things and connect the dots. I had no idea how I was going to stop him.

I walked toward the bench where Detective Myers was standing with a tall woman. She looked new here. Detective Myers stopped me when he saw me.

“Doctor West, I want to warn you that it’s…” He wiped his face with a sigh.

“Who is it?” I already knew it must be someone I knew. But…

My mind immediately went to Irene. Could it be? No, no, she was safe with Enzo, and no one knew.

“It’s… it’s Amy,” Detective Myers said with a shaky breath.

“Amy? Our Amy?” I blinked. “Amy Walden?” I ran toward the bench, and sure enough, there she was, wearing… the lipstick, the wig, the dress, and the heels. The shade of her lipstick was Crimson Noir.

The sweet, sunny Amy Walden looked pale. She was fucking dead, and I was the only one to blame.

“No. How could she be…” My fingers trembled. All these women were dead, and it was all because of me. I thought I had finally stopped him. How wrong I was!

I wanted to scream. I wanted to rip myself into pieces until this feeling of helplessness would leave me the fuck alone.

I whirled toward Detective Myers. “Where’s Detective Rosario and the other woman The Strangler killed?”

Detective Myers flinched back as if I had kicked him.

“Detective Rosario is at the second crime scene. Doctor West… it wasn’t a woman. It was…”

“Who the fuck is it?”

“It was Detective Rishi Patel. The fucking bastard killed one of us, and he’s going to burn in hell for that.”

The world went black.