Page 28
“Daiken,” Gabriel said. “But the flower wasn’t from him. Sofia said Daiken was all bark and no bite.”
“She said whoever sent it wasn’t trying to woo her. It was more like… they were letting her know they were watching her. After she got that flower, she was always looking over her shoulder.”
“Did Nikki ever get any flowers?”
They exchanged looks. “Nikki worked on weekends, and she always kept to herself. None of us really knew her that well, and she died weeks after…”
“Are you saying they died because they worked here? That the killer might have found them here?” Valentina trailed off, her voice faltering at the weight of her own words. The room fell into an uneasy silence thick with unasked questions.
“But why? Why would anyone…” Valentina closed her eyes. “We were trying to help people. We use our spare time to—”
“The reasons are always as twisted as the people behind them,” I said. I knew I’d just made these women fear for their lives, and I hated it. Women deserved to live their lives without being threatened by men, without having to constantly wonder if they were safe.
“There are bad men, but it doesn’t mean what you’re doing is a mistake.”
“But it is. It cost Sofia and Nikki their lives,” Tim said, rubbing his head. “They hadn’t even started living.”
Sighing, I walked out with Helene. We headed to her office, and she handed me a file on her table. “I told my secretary to include all the donors,” she said, “even the women. What if he knew them through a family member?”
“You’re right. Thank you.”
When I was done, I walked to my car and called Yara.
She answered on the second ring, as if she’d been waiting for my call.
“Are you still in the morgue?”
“Ryden…” Her voice came out soft, tired. I knew something was wrong the moment I heard it.
“What? Are you alright, love? I’m coming. Wait right there.”
I started the car and pulled out of the driveway.
“I think I know who the Strangler is,” she said, her voice breaking. Like the new knowledge of the Strangler’s identity destroyed her.
“What do you—” I slammed on the brakes, the car jerking to a sudden halt. “Shit…”
“Drive carefully. I’ll still be here,” she said. “Do not kill yourself.” She hung up.
I drove as fast as I could. She was waiting for me by the entrance, her white coat over her shoulder.
Dark circles lined her eyes and she looked broken. Shattered. No, not angry. Not raging. Not out looking for blood.
Just tired, beaten, like something, someone had sucked all the feelings from inside her, left her in that brokenness. I had never seen her like that.
“Red? Yara?”
“We were wrong all along. the Strangler is not a man.” She closed her eyes, placed her hand on my chest, steadying herself. “It’s a woman.”
“What do you mean? What did you find?” I asked, taking her hand in mine. It was cold. So cold. I rubbed it between my palms. “Come on, let’s go inside. You’re freezing.”
We walked toward the car, and I opened the door for her. She gave me the faintest of smiles, and my heart broke. This wasn’t my Red. When we were chasing Logan, she was furious, she was full of rage; she was ready to burn him down and avenge Kat’s death, but now… now she looked like she had lost.
“She must be one of Robert Miller’s victims from the orphanage.” She paused and took a deep breath. “I think she saw me kill him.”
She said it as though she were stating facts, not making assumptions.
“I’m sure of it, Ryden. The way all these women were killed… it wasn’t anger; it was reverence, love even. Men are often pushed by violence. Like the one who killed Sofia. Not the Strangler, though. They didn’t have any reason to fear her.”
