13. Kato
Chapter 13
Kato
T he soft buzz of my phone pulls me out of the kind of sleep I haven’t had in weeks. For a moment, I’m disoriented, caught between the warmth of Elara beside me and the weight of responsibility settling back into my chest. Her body is still curled into mine, and I almost ignore the call, not wanting to break the spell of this perfect moment.
Almost.
Sighing, I grab my phone, squinting as the blue light from the screen..it assaults my senses. It’s Gunnolf. I know it’s bad news before I even answer. He wouldn’t be calling past midnight if it wasn’t.
“Kato, we’ve got a missing person report who fits the victim profile. Her credit card shows that she was at ‘Nothing Here’ before she disappeared. Social media, too, and that’s the last we have on her.” He says, with no humor in his voice, and he is far too quick to the point.
I exhale, carefully untangling myself from Elara and sitting up slowly to not wake her. So, the killer wasn’t bluffing. “How’d you get into her credit statement so quickly?”
“Minna,” Gun says, “she hacked it. Hati’s working on obtaining the documents legally, but there was no way we were waiting when a life is on the line.”
If she’s not already long dead. That dark thought crosses my mind before I can stop it. The sickening pattern keeps repeating, and we’re barely keeping up—in fact, we aren’t keeping up at all. Maybe this will be the victim who changes all that.
I lean down, brushing my lips softly against Elara’s forehead. She stirs, her eyes flutter open, and I can see the concern flash in her eyes even before I say a word. She’s been listening to this whole conversation.
“I have to go,” I tell her quietly, even though she already knows what I do. “Another girl went missing. Same place.”
Her forehead wrinkles, eyebrows knitting together, and I can practically see the thoughts racing through her mind. She doesn’t need to say it.
“You stay here. You’ll be safe. Try to get some sleep. I’ll be back as soon as I can,” I say, cupping her cheek. “Bruce will be outside with a few of the others. If you need anything, they’ll be right there.”
“Kato—” Her voice is soft but laced with worry. I still, waiting for a moment but she doesn’t say another word. My stomach twists, I hate that I’m leaving her but I don’t have a choice.
“You’ll be safe,” I promise. “Just stay here.” I kiss her again on the corner of her mouth, this time lingering a little longer before forcing myself to pull away. “I’ll be back.”
I slide on my trousers, grab my jacket, and head out the door.
‘Nothing Here’ looks just like it did last night—buzzing with energy, people packed inside, oblivious to the danger lurking right outside their bubble of fun—the neon signs behind the bar hum. The place crawls with easy prey, which makes my blood boil.
Gun is waiting for me at the bar. He doesn’t say anything; he gives me a look that tells me everything I need to know. The lead is flimsy, and we’re racing against time again.
Bodies sway on the dance floor, groups huddled at tables and lining the bar. It’s chaos, but beneath it, there’s something darker. The killer was here. He was watching, waiting, hunting, but who is he?
We make the rounds again, showing photos of the new missing girl and victims from the coroner’s report in case someone who knows something about them wasn’t here last time.
The bartenders are more cooperative this time, though some are hesitant to talk. They remember the girl. A few of the waitstaff nod when they see her picture, but none of them saw her leave with anyone suspicious—just like before. Of course.
Rage boils in me as the seconds pass by, and we still have nothing solid to go on. I want to rip this guy apart limb by limb. I want his blood dripping from my mouth after I’ve torn out his throat.
I finally corner the owner, a slimy guy who hadn’t been here before but I’d spoken to on the phone once. He’s still trying to pretend this is all just a bad dream for his business. “You’ve got no cameras in this place?” I snap.
He shrugs, offering a half-smile. “It’s all about the vibe, man. People don’t want to be watched when they’re here. They want to cut loose. It’s not like they had cameras in the speakeasy in the 20s, ya know? Cut me a break.”
I take a step forward, my temper barely in check. “They didn’t have neon signs either,” I say, pointing behind the bar, “But you do. Besides people are cutting more than loose—they’re disappearing. And you’ve got no footage to help us track them.”
His smile falters. “Look, I just want my customers to feel comfortable.”
“Comfortable?” I glare at him. “You’ve got a killer using your bar as a hunting ground, and you’re worried about the vibes? What does that do for the vibes? Maybe I can include your establishment in the nightly news report tomorrow.”
The owner looks away, muttering something about not knowing this would happen. I’ve heard enough. The trail inside is as cold as ever, but something’s been nagging at me since last night. The killer isn’t making his move inside here. It’s outside, where no one’s paying attention.
I head back out and find the security guard again. It’s the same man I spoke to last time. He raises an eyebrow as we approach. “Back for more questions?”
“You’re observant,” I say, still irritated from my exchange with the owner. “Think carefully. Did you see any shady characters hanging around after the last call? Guys lurking around the entrance, waiting for drunk girls?”
He shrugs, but something shifts in his expression. “Yeah, a lot of guys do that. It’s a cesspool out there sometimes. Hanging around, trying to get lucky with girls waiting for their Ubers. You know the type skeeze-balls.”
I nod slowly, my mind racing. The killer might spend some time inside to watch his victims and decide whom he wants, but he’s waiting outside, picking off women as they leave.
Which means he knows the patterns here. He knows who’s vulnerable, who’s alone.
He might even follow them home from here to learn more about them. My blood runs cold, and my fists tighten at my side as I scan the streets around us, eyeing every man outside smoking, checking his phone, or walking by.
Could it be you? Or you? Or you?
“Elara said the killer works nights,” I say to Gun. “He could be coming here after his shift, watching the girls leave when they’re drunk and alone. He could follow them from there.”
Gun frowns. “He could, but he could also be an Uber driver or a taxi. As far as staff goes, apparently, everyone is accounted for, no one is acting suspicious, and there are no missed shifts.”
I see the security guard out of my peripherals, trying not to look too obvious while he listens in on our conversation. I can’t blame him. This is one of the craziest things to happen at this bar, and he wasn’t able to do his job beyond the doors of this establishment, and women have died.
I run a hand through my hair, frustration bubbling up again. Before I speak again, I lead Gun out of earshot from the security guard.
“He doesn’t have to be staff. He could be a regular. Someone who knows the scene here, who blends in. The women are letting their guard down, and he’s taking advantage of it.”
Gun nods, the pieces falling into place. “We’re dealing with someone who knows this place’s vibe inside and out. Someone who is comfortable here and knows that they’ll fly under the radar. Which means he’s no Brad Pitt.”
“Why do you say that?” We’ve already established that our unsub is likely a grey man, but I’m curious.
“Did you see the good-looking men in that bar? There were women all over them, and if they weren’t physically all over them, they were sure as hell eye-fucking them.”
“How come there weren’t women all over you? You calling yourself ugly?” I ask cocking an eyebrow.
“Hardly,” Gun scoffs. “I was practically beating the women off with my badge. Although that didn’t stop three hotties from slipping me their phone numbers,” he says pulling out a crumbled cocktail napkin, part of a receipt, and a business card.
Well, I’ll be damned.
“They were trying to get your attention too but you’re too damn obtuse,” Gun chuckles amused by his own memories of the scene.
“We need to get closer,” I say, “Blend in. See what happens when people aren’t looking over their shoulders.”
“We need Callie,” Gun says, giving me a stern look. “I know you want to protect her, but she’s an agent and a damn good one. Don’t let this whole thing cloud your judgment. No one has seen her yet, and she’s a beautiful woman. She’s the perfect choice. You know I’m right.”
My heart sinks.
I nod. “Tomorrow night, we send her in undercover. We need to catch this bastard before he takes another woman.”
Tomorrow, we hunt.