Page 76 of Unholy Bonds

I walked to my car and got in. Pulling open my laptop, I opened the folder titled “The Strangler.” Most of his letters were online. Not fully, but pieces here and there, and I had painstakingly collected everything I could find and put them all together.

I had always thought that if I could just find his woman, I could find him. What was I supposed to do now?

The woman… Was it me?

If I was his love, he must be someone who knew me. How did he know me? Most importantly, did I know him? I read the letters, my eyes scanning over every word I already knew from memory. “How do you fucking know me?” I screamed, punching my fist against the steering wheel, and jumped back when the horn blared.

Cursing, I pulled my hand away, controlling my anger.

I couldn’t lose it now. I had to keep it together just until I found that bastard. And then I would rip his intestines out and strangle him with them.

“You think you can fuck with my mind? Play your games? No, not this time. Not this fucking time.”

After composing myself, I drove to work. As soon as I reached my office, I took the evidence bag and walked to the forensics lab on the second floor of the building. Amy smiled when I walked in, looking up from the file she was reading.

“Hey, Amy, good morning.”

“Do you need anything, Doctor West?” Amy asked, closing her file.

“I need to see if we have any fingerprints on this,” I said, pushing the evidence bag with the dollar bill to her.

“Related to a case?” she asked, looking curiously at the five-dollar bill.

I shook my head. “No. Personal.”

“Got it. I’m free today, anyway.” She walked toward her station, and I followed her, my heart thundering.

Could this be the break I’d been looking for?

She pulled her gloves on and carefully pulled the dollar bill using tweezers before placing it on the ALS scanner. The machine hummed to life, capturing the images.

After a few more minutes, she turned to me. “We got something here.”

She reached for a fine brush and a jar of fingerprint powder. I leaned in, watching intently as she delicately dusted the area, and soon, a print appeared on the surface.

“It looks good,” she said, her eyes fixated on the developing print. She applied a piece of transparent tape to the dusted surface and gently peeled it back with an excited smile. “And here you go. You want me to run it through AFIS?”

“Yes. Thank you, Amy,” I said with a smile. She entered the print on the database. “Did we get a hit?”

“Yes,” she said and pulled open the record. “The name’s Logan Jones. He’s got a prior,” Amy said, her fingers flying over the keyboard. “Graffiti vandalism when he was younger.”

“Graffiti?” I sighed. What did I expect? To find he had a criminal record with a rap sheet a mile long. Strangling women with a red garrote was a long leap from vandalism.

“Yes. That’s all it says here.”

“Anything else?”

“Nothing else here, Doctor West.”

“Thank you so much, Amy. Can I get a copy of the record?” I asked. She quickly printed it out for me with a nod.

“Here you go, Doctor West.”

Thanking her, I walked out, feeling once again defeated.

But no… It wasn’t over yet.

The Strangler could run and hide, trick and play, but I’d never stop chasing.

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