Chapter 12

Chapter 12

James and I stood stiffly in front of Mrs. Jones in her office.

She smacked the stack of documents against the desk repeatedly, her face flushed with anger.

“You failed to capture him. He got away again. Yes, we caught some drug dealers, but a life was lost—something that could have been avoided.”

She slammed the file down and turned her sharp eyes on me.

“Detective Ariel. I heard you had eyes on him. Why did you lose him?”

“It was only for a brief moment, ma’am. I had no idea the underground club had another exit. It was a mistake on my part. I apologize,” I said quickly.

“You are a detective, Agent Ariel. Your job is to track the culprit—nothing else. A single slip, and lives are lost. Just like that poor woman’s.”

“I apologize, ma’am,” I repeated.

She exhaled sharply. “You have one week to find him. If you fail, I’ll move the case to someone else.” Her gaze snapped to James. “And you, Detective James. You’re supposed to support her, not show up at the crime scene when it’s already too late. That’s why I paired you both.”

We stood with our hands behind our backs, eyes down, silent.

“Leave.”

The word cracked like a whip.

Outside her office, I let out a long breath. “I’ll be leaving,” I muttered.

James followed close behind. “Don’t go hard on yourself, Ariel. It wasn’t your fault.”

Tears stung the corners of my eyes as I stopped at the station door, one hand on the knob. I swallowed hard, inhaling deeply before opening my eyes again.

“I should have saved her. If I’d stepped in at the club, none of this would have happened.”

“We should blame SK,” James said firmly. “Channel that anger into finding him. He’s always one step ahead of us. That’s the real problem.”

I sighed and walked to my car.

“Are you sure you can drive?” James asked.

I pulled open the driver’s door. “I’ll be fine.” Sliding in, I started the engine, the roar filling the silence. As I drove off, I caught sight of James in the rearview mirror—standing there, watching me leave.

One thing was certain: James and SK were very different people.

Probably I was wrong.

I parked outside my apartment, unlocked the door, and went straight to the bathroom for a cold shower. Afterward, I slipped into a sweater and shorts.

In the kitchen, I poured cereal into a bowl, added milk, and carried it to the couch. I scrolled through the news on my phone while spooning cereal into my mouth.

Headlines about the dead woman from the bar were everywhere. Rumors spread fast: some claimed the killer only targeted women.

Scrolling further, I found another chilling report—someone mentioned their neighbor had been killed after going out with a strange man. Her body was discovered in a hotel. The man was nowhere to be found.

I grabbed my notebook and pen.

Observations:

SK targets only women. Confirmed.

He “dates” them before the kill. But why?

The girl from the club still puzzled me. It seemed like her first encounter with him, though she mentioned some kind of agreement. When another man stepped in, SK grew furious.

So, was her death a reaction to jealousy? Or was he already planning to kill her regardless, and the interference just pushed him over the edge?

Either way, the questions kept piling up.

Why does SK target only women?

Why lure them with dates first?

What exactly is he after?

And then, his words at the rooftop that night with Sarah: They deserve it. The way he said it, with pleasure—almost like it fueled him.

Maybe he was a psychopath.

But no—he didn’t look like one.

I crossed the word “Psycho” off my notes.

Closing the book, I finished the last of the cereal, wiped my mouth, and carried the bowl to the table. Then I headed into my bedroom.

All I needed now was rest.

I lay on the bed, absently toying with the necklace around my neck. But my thoughts replayed the woman’s fall—the heavy thud, the blood on the pavement.

My jaw tightened. I’ll catch SK. He’ll pay for everything he’s done.

My phone suddenly rang, snapping me from my thoughts. James’s name flashed on the screen. I answered quickly.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

“Yeah. Took some pain relief. I’m fine.”

“Good. Mrs. Jones sent a message. I just forwarded it to you.”

My phone beeped. “Got it. What’s it about?”

“Kind of a secret mission. She wants us to catch someone.”

“And who is that?”

“SK.”

But the voice didn’t sound like James anymore. It shifted—deeper, distorted. My phone slipped from my hand and hit the floor.

My body froze, trembling.

Laughter came from the other end. Cold. Mocking.

“How are you calling from James’s phone? Who are you? What did you do to him?” I shouted.

“You don’t have to be scared. James is fine.” The voice was unnaturally altered, encrypted so I couldn’t trace it.

“I’ve been watching you, Ariel. And I like you.”

My blood ran cold.

“Who the fuck are you?” I yelled, voice shaking.

“I’m SK. Isn’t that what you call me?” He laughed again.

“What do you want?”

“Nothing much. Just… after seeing you, I suddenly became interested.”

“You murderer. Is this how you lure your victims? You’re a psychopath if you think I’ll let you get away with this.”

“Oh please. I only called to tell you I like you. But you’ve broken my heart by refusing me. Now, who should I take it out on instead?”

Muffled cries reached my ears—desperate, pleading. A woman’s voice.

“What are you doing?” I demanded, snatching my phone off the floor.

“You broke my heart, Ariel. So I have to break someone else’s.”

“Stop it! Now!”

“Then tell me you love me.”

I clenched my teeth, fury and disgust boiling inside me. “I said stop!”

“Well, I gave you a chance,” he said calmly.

Then came the scream—raw, heart-wrenching, ripped from the woman in the background.

And the line went dead.

My phone slipped from my hand again, clattering against the floor as my heart hammered wildly in my chest.