Chapter 22 Chapter 22
“Does Violet, by any chance, have enemies? Someone with whom she doesn’t get along?”
“Not that we know of. She usually gets along with everyone, though sometimes she’s a bit shy,” Mr. Smith answered. “We couldn’t think of anyone wanting to harm her, so we believe a stranger might be involved.”
“That sounds reasonable,” Valerie replied. She had gotten all the information about Violet that she needed for her article and decided to end the interview here. It was plain to see that Mr. and Mrs. Smith struggled to keep themselves together, and she didn’t want to bother them longer than necessary.
“Thank you for your time,” Valerie said, putting her smartphone away. “Let’s hope Violet will be found soon.”
“Thank you for your efforts,” Mrs. Smith said before Maxwell and Valerie left.
They went back to the car. “This wasn’t as insightful as I had hoped,” she sighed, glancing at her notes. “But there’s one thing I already know. The victims share certain similarities, which leads me to think whoever is responsible for their disappearances doesn’t choose them randomly. At least, that’s what I’m gathering from the information in Thorne’s file.”
“And what are those similarities?” Maxwell asked, raising his eyebrows. He seemed more invested in the case now than before.
“Firstly, they are all women. Secondly, each vanished late in the evening or during the night when they were walking through the city alone. Thirdly, it always happens here in Manhattan. And lastly, every woman who vanished was in her twenties, had black hair, and blood type O. The latter is strange if you’re asking me. Could be just a coincidence, though.”
“In other words, whoever is responsible specifically picks their victims and stalks them on their way home to ambush them,” Maxwell summed up, smirking to himself. “Ah, this is getting interesting. I wonder what’s going on with the culprit. Are they maybe… a psychopath? A serial murderer?”
“You’re sounding too excited for this, demon,” she said, hiding her unease behind an unreadable expression.
“Well, this person clearly wants to go to purgatory. It’s always fun to drag humans over there; they scream until their throats are sore,” he laughed evilly, a shudder running through Valerie’s body. She tensed and shot him a wide-eyed look.
“You’re insane.”
“Thanks.”
“Ugh, why do I have to be stuck with you?” she grumbled, trying hard to ignore his smug grin.
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Tuesday morning was spent at the kitchen table in front of her computer, a mug with steaming coffee next to her. Maxwell was in the living room, the muffled sounds of the TV filling her apartment.
He had recently acquired a PlayStation 4, probably stolen from somewhere, and spent a lot of time playing various video games. Valerie was okay with it since he didn’t annoy or tease her when he was otherwise occupied.
Yesterday, they had spent the entire afternoon hunting leads and visiting the families of the missing women, sometimes even their friends or whoever had last seen them. Valerie had collected lots of useful information and felt she had accomplished something after they had returned home. She had been busy writing everything down and hoped that making people aware of these crimes would increase the chances of finding witnesses.
The news article was written at record speed, and Valerie read over it again a while later to do some last-minute edits before she emailed it to Thorne. He replied soon, sending her his thanks. When she was about to open a new file to write down some more notes for herself, Mochi joined her, lying on her laptop’s keyboard. The feline yawned and eyed the young woman, slowly blinking at her.
Valerie was torn between smiling at the cute sight and groaning because she couldn’t work like this. “Come on, Mochi. You can’t stay here,” she sighed, earning a distorted meow. “Are all demons this self-centered?”
“I heard that,” Maxwell yelled from the living room.
“Great, you jerk.”
“Stupid human,” she heard him grumble, but didn’t grace him with an answer. Valerie walked to the living room, lingering in the doorway.
“I’ll go grocery shopping now,” she announced, and he groaned in annoyance.
“Why now? I’m in the middle of something here,” he said, not even taking his eyes off the screen to look at her.
“You don’t have to accompany me all the time; I don’t need a babysitter,” she said in a huff. “I’ll be back later. Do you want anything?”
“No,” he replied curtly.
“Would it hurt to be nice to me for once?” she muttered and walked out of the room to grab her purse and jacket, leaving the apartment.
Valerie took a deep breath, lungs filling with fresh morning air. She was finally alone. No nagging, no teasing, no flirty comments. It was heaven.
Valerie got in her car and drove through the city, heading to the next supermarket to buy everything she needed.
It didn’t take long; barely an hour had passed since she left the apartment, and she didn’t want to return yet. The moody demon would survive without her for another hour.
She didn’t need him, and he didn’t need her; it was that easy. Glaring at the star-shaped crest in annoyance, she covered it with her sleeve. At least it didn’t glow like radioactive waste when he wasn’t around.
Grinning at the thought, she reentered her car and drove off, intending to look at an area that played a significant role in the missing person cases.
She left the car in a parking garage, quickly checking the map on her smartphone to ensure she was on the right track. Valerie was back in Manhattan, intending to visit the place where Violet and a young accountant named Aecha had disappeared. Usually, the culprit ambushed their victims in different spots in this district, but these women had vanished in the same area.
Valerie didn’t understand why the culprit had taken a risk like that. He or she had to be confident about not being found.
The mystery surrounding the disappearances, combined with the desperation of the victims’ families, urged her to do something to uncover the truth.