Page 58 of Unholy Masks

Detective R smiled at me and frowned at Ryden.

“You’re back, Sinclair,” he said, shoving aside his untouched coffee. “And you’ve brought Doctor West to do your dirty work, I see.”

“She insisted,” Ryden said with a shrug. “And she’s a lot more convincing than I am. I know how to properly use resources available to me.”

“You’re right. You’ll get whatever you want with Doctor West here,” Detective R said with a small smile before he pulled open the files of both Sofia and Nikki. “I believe you. I believe you’re right.”

“What changed? You were adamant about…” Ryden trailed off. I knew he wanted to say more, but he stopped himself.

“Sorry for not listening. It’s not an excuse, but we’re overworked, tired, and the cases are getting bigger and bigger. Our department is stretched thin as it is. We’re working on the Strangler, the storage unit murders, and then…” Detective R shook his head, motioning us to the chair. “And you’re telling me there’s another serial killer out there sending gardenias? Gardenias?! Son of a bitch.”

“What’s he saying with the flowers?” Detective Myers asked.

“Gardenia means something pure, untainted. In the past, gardenias were used to express forbidden feelings or love that can’t be declared openly,” I said. “It could mean anything, really. You can never say with a psychopath, but I know one thing for sure. He’s rich.”

“So, what? He’s confessing his feelings to his victims before he kills them?” Detective Myers frowned. “What kind of evil is this?”

“Before he takes them on a date, and then…” Ryden flinched.

“Detroit is becoming a breeding ground for serial killers and psychopaths. I haven’t taken a breath properly in weeks.” Detective Rosario looked up when someone placed another cup of tepid black coffee next to him. “It’s a circus in here. The FBI is running around like headless chickens, and everything is a mess.”

“It’s a mess, but maybe we could find this one with her help.” He pointed to the woman on the chair. “That’s Valentina, and she found a gardenia in her bag.”

Detective Myers and Rosario blinked. It looked like Ryden hadn’t mentioned that part to the Detectives.

Detective R stood up. “What are you saying, Sinclair?”

“She received a gardenia?” Myers asked.

“Yes. Valentina found this in her bag.” Ryden pulled out a box neatly wrapped in plastic. “Check it for fingerprints.”

“First, she needs protection,” Detective R said. “This… I don’t like any of this.”

“Yes. For a few more days, and then…” Ryden hesitated. “We use her.”

“I know where you’re going with this, Sinclair, but do you think she’ll be up for that?” Detective Rosario looked at Valentina, his brows knitted together.

“She’s not. She won’t ever be ready for that,” I said. “It’s not easy, knowing that your life is on the line, but also it’s not just your life.”

Detective Rosario tensed. “She looks too young. This isn’t a job for young girls. This isn’t her burden to carry.”

“Most of us grow up way before we are supposed to. That’s the reality of this world, Detective R,” I said. “The world pushes girls to grow up before they are ready.”

“If you ever feel overwhelmed, all you have to do is ask,” Detective Rosario said to her, his voice soft. “We’ll protect you until he’s behind bars.”

But behind bars, he wouldn’t go.

I wouldn’t let him.

Death was the only way to stop men like him.

Whatever he felt was more than rage. He didn’t just kill—he desecrated. He stripped them of their dignity, their rights.

“He—he killed Sofia and Nikki. I know this is not…” She took a shaky breath, her fingers curling around the edge of the table. “If it’s not me, it’ll be someone else.”

“But that’s not your responsibility,” Detective R said gently. “You’re not obligated to protect others from this monster, Valentina. You’re allowed to think only for your own safety.”

This was why I had always, always liked Detective R. Respected him.