Page 111 of Unholy Bonds

“Yes. Ryden Sinclair. I know you guys don’t get along.”

“He’s such a pain in the ass, but he’s a good man,” the detective said grudgingly, and I laughed a little as I entered his car.

“Did you read the letter?”

“Sending it to the lab to process. I know there won’t be any fingerprints, but I want to make sure. What if he messed up like the last time?”

He hadn’t messed up the last time. It was deliberate.

“Why do you think he’s suddenly changing his MO?” I asked after a few minutes into the ride.

“I don’t know. Maybe he’s getting bored.”

“Fuck him,” I said and then shook my head. “Sorry, Detective.”

“The FBI is taking over the case. They’ll be here soon, but we will be working with them.”

When the FBI came, no one knew what would happen or where the investigation would go from there. I had to do everything before that.

The detective dropped me off at work. I stepped out at the same time the black van bearing Daphne’s body pulled over into the parking lot.

I followed her into the cold autopsy room.

“Thank you. Just leave her there.”

The men put her on the steel slab and walked away, closing the door behind them, and leaving me alone with Daphne.

“Talk to me, Daphne. Who did this to you?” I unzipped the body bag and staggered back.

The woman sat up, her dark hair spilling down her back, clutching the red wig.

“You’re the reason I’m dead, Yara West. If you hadn’t walked into my gallery last night, I’d still be alive.”

“Doctor West?” The door opened, pulling me out of the nightmare. I stared at the body, and she was dead. Dead.

“Yes, Amy?”

“Forensic report on the makeup.”

“That’s fast,” I said, trying hard not to show how affected I was.

“Yes. All the forensic process for this case has been expedited,” Amy said with a wince. “Do you think we’ll catch him this time, Doctor West?”

“I hope we will. Tell me about the result,” I said as I put on my gloves and grabbed a scalpel.

“The shade of the lipstick is Scarlet Rouge.”

“Tom Ford?” I said, my heart sinking.

I pressed my finger against my lips. I was wearing the same shade. Amy’s eyes followed my fingers, and she paled when she noticed my lips, shaking her head.

It wasn’t a coincidence. He knew me as Yara and K.Y. Wolff. He was already a million steps ahead of me, and I was stuck. I felt like I was wandering blind in an unknown land, with no clue as to where I should go.

“Yes. The rest of the makeup was a cheap brand. The clothes were knock-offs, but not the lipstick. It’s the real deal.”

“Have you analyzed the wig?”

“Yes, Doctor West. It’s consistent with inexpensive synthetic fibers. He could have bought it anywhere.”

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