“What does this mean?” she cried. “What does it mean?”
Logan inched forward, slowly putting his gun away as he reached for the note in her hand. She let go and wept into her palms as he took it, shaking as he read:
I know you’re still looking for me, but you won’t catch me. She’s still mine, remember? And oh, what nice hair she has…
He set it to one side, trying not to leave too many fingerprints on it. The police could get a good look at that and maybe come up with something, though Logan had his doubts. If the killer had been so meticulous thus far, it was unlikely he would make such a silly mistake now.
Logan approached Maggie, kneeling at her side and taking her in his arms. She cried there, clearly holding back from the full force of her trauma. She was putting on a brave face, just as he had done for so many years. Until recently.
“We have to find her fast,” he said.
“How?”
“Your boyfriend. He’s the key.”
“You mean ex. What about that?” She pointed at the note.
“It’s just a display of power,” Logan told her.
“No, he’s going to kill her.”
“Maybe,” he said, not wanting to lie. “But the fact he holds this power over us is what’s keeping her alive for now. If he killed her, he’d have nothing left to brag about. Nothing left to threaten us with. This is what’s motivating him.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because he’s been in my apartment, too. That means he’s going out of his way to rub this in our faces. It’s a textbook power play. Trust me.”
Maggie hugged him tighter as if to say that she did trust him. He felt that in the desperation of her pull. In the tightness with which she held him. But he held her, too – he needed her like she needed him. Not just as a form of company but someone to lean on throughout this case. In a world of twisted, nonsensical murders, Maggie was the only good thing. The only constant.
He just hoped she would stick around.