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“He’s done hiding,” Ryden said. “He wants to be seen now.”
I crouched near the body. The ink glistened under the light, and the crimson around her made it brighter, more prominent.
“This isn’t escalation,” I murmured. “It’s transformation.”
“What?”
“He’s not just killing now. He’s performing. His rage is not just for himself this time. It’s also for the world. It’s for us.”
Every line of the tattoo was precise. He had taken his time to do this.
“He knew,” Ryden whispered. “He’s angry we took Valentina from him. He must have seen the cops.”
“I thought so too. You might find something, Doctor West, because he didn’t plan this one,” Detective Rosario said as I crouched closer to the body.
“That tattoo is a dare. He’s challenging us,” I said. It was like he had finally accepted this need in him wasn’t going to go away, and wanted to stop hiding, stop being ashamed. “Did the forensics team find anything, Detective?”
“No fingerprints. The place is clean. He didn’t kill her here.”
“He kills them somewhere and then discards the body in water.”
I checked her wound before motioning to the waiting officers. “Put her in a body bag and take her to the morgue, please. I want to get to work before it’s too late.”
“Go ahead, Doctor. We’ll send her over as soon as we’re done here.”
With a nod, I walked out.
“You okay?” I turned to Ryden.
“I hate this. This kill wasn’t subtle. I was worried about this. He’s getting confident, and that makes him even more dangerous.”
“I’ll check every inch of this girl. If he left anything behind, I’ll find it. I promise.”
We drove toward the Medical Examiner office.
“Yara?”
“Yes?”
“Should I tell Valentina about this? I don’t want to worry her, but…” he asked, parking the car in front of the building.
“She deserves to know,” I said. “I get that you want to protect her, but keeping this from her won’t help her.”
“If you find anything, give me a call,” Ryden said, driving away.
I walked into the morgue and waited for the girl to come, along with her details. After another twenty minutes, Detective Rosario walked in with the officers.
“Found her. Her name’s Rose Santos. She is twenty, the same age as Valentina, and she works at a coffee shop closer to AFC.”
“Did she receive the gardenia?”
“No idea. Myers and I’ll be heading to her house now.” The detective waited until her body was placed on the metal slab before he walked away.
I pulled the zipper down, exposing the girl’s lifeless form. She was tall—like Nikki and Sofia. Even in death, her bright brown eyes, now vacant and unseeing, reminded me of them. Her long hair spilled over the cold metal table like a curtain of black.
That was his pattern. A serial killer who was a bigot? Or was this something else? Was he killing someone else through these girls?
Slipping on my gloves, I started with a surface examination. My fingers trailed lightly over her arms, stomach, and legs, searching for additional wounds. Bruises littered her body in varying shades of purple and blue. I pulled her legs apart with a wince. She was raped, and her genitals were mutilated.
