The precinct was alive with the usual chaos—phones ringing, officers moving between desks, and the faint scent of stale coffee hanging in the air.

Callum sat at his desk, flipping through the crime scene photos of Isaac Hale’s murder with a scowl. Across from him, Emery leaned back in his chair, arms crossed.

It had been three days, and they still hadn’t interviewed the victim’s family. Callum had been avoiding it, and Emery was done waiting.

“We need to talk to the wife,” Emery said.

Callum didn’t look up. “No.”

Emery sighed. “Why?”

“She just lost her husband. She has a kid to protect. The last thing she needs is us pushing for details she’s not ready to give.”

“She might have answers we need,” Emery countered. “Maybe she noticed someone following Isaac. Maybe he mentioned something strange before he died. We won’t know unless we ask.”

Callum slammed the file shut. “I said no.”

Emery didn’t flinch. “This isn’t just about her feelings. It’s about stopping this from happening again.”

Silence stretched between them.

Then Emery pulled out another file and tossed it onto Callum’s desk.

“Fine,” Emery said. “Let’s do something else, then.”

Callum raised an eyebrow.

Emery gestured to the case file. “Isaac Hale wasn’t the first murder of this kind.”

Callum’s expression darkened. “I know that.”

“Then why aren’t we cross-examining the other cases?” Emery leaned forward. “There’s a pattern. We just haven’t looked hard enough.”

Callum exhaled sharply. “You think you’re the first one to try? We’ve been through them.”

“Then let’s go through them again,” Emery insisted. “Fresh eyes. We might catch something.”

Callum studied him for a moment. Then, with a muttered curse, he reached for the files.

“Fine.”

Finding the Loop

They spread the files across Callum’s desk.

Four murders.

• Isaac Hale (35, sculptor) – restrained, tortured, murdered in his own studio.
• Nathan Pierce (42, restaurant owner) – same method, tied to a chair in his office.
• Victor Langley (38, architect) – murdered at home, same brutal treatment.
• Ryan Carter (29, musician) – studio crime scene, similar injuries.

All male. All Alphas. All in creative professions.

Callum frowned. “What do you see?”

Emery tapped a page. “The locations. The killer doesn’t take them somewhere unfamiliar. He kills them in their own spaces.”

Callum nodded. “Means he knows their schedules. Knows when they’re alone.”

Emery flipped through more notes. “And look at the timeline. The gap between each murder is getting shorter.”

Callum’s eyes narrowed.

Emery continued. “Nathan Pierce was killed six months ago. Victor Langley, five months. Ryan Carter, three months. And now Isaac Hale—just one month after the last.”

Callum clenched his jaw. “The killer is escalating.”

Emery nodded. “If we don’t stop them now, the next victim won’t be months away. It’ll be weeks. Maybe even days.”

Callum muttered a curse under his breath.

Then Emery pointed to another detail. “Look at the police reports from the earlier murders. The scenes were almost identical… except for one thing.”

Callum frowned, scanning the reports. Then, after a long pause, he saw it.

“The missing item.” It was not visible clearly till the last victimss, but with Isaac's missing sculpture it becameclear to him.

"The Killer is collecting memories"

Emery nodded. “In each case, something personal was taken. A watch, a necklace, a custom ring—”

“And now Isaac Hale’s missing sculpture.”

They exchanged a look.

A pattern. A loop.

A signature.

Callum grabbed his jacket. “We’re talking to the wife.”

Emery smirked. “Told you.”

Callum shot him a glare. “Shut up, Vanes.”

But Emery had won this round.

TBC