She had been so close, yet fate had conspired against her once again. Her eyes widened in horror as they landed on the lifeless body sprawled on the cold, unforgiving ground. It was too late. She was too late.

​

…

​

    The buzzing sounds in the building reverberated off the walls as Diya Iman walked into the conference room, a new case ready to be assigned to her and her partner, Ryder Locke. She walked inside, her gaze locked onto Lieutenant Sinclair and Ryder, already seated at the table. Taking her seat beside Ryder, she focused her attention on the last case file on the table, reaching for it and flipping it open.

     The page rustled under her determined gaze as she delved into the details, absorbing the evidence and witness statements. She carefully examined the photos of the crime scenes and victims as Lieutenant Sinclair began to speak.

    “Twenty-two year old, Naomi Jiang, was found stabbed to death at a park near her house.” Lieutenant Sinclair spoke, using the remote to display the images on the TV screen. “There have been a series of deaths with a similar MO over the past few weeks, all the victims stabbed to death and then dumped at a park.” He continued to use the remote to reveal the haunting photos that were also inside the case files.

    Diya’s eyes narrowed as she scrutinized the details, noticing a pattern between all the victims. Her lips tightened as she looked back down at her file. “Looks like the suspect is targeting women of color.” She said, her tone cold. “Seems like a hate crime.”

    The two men looked at her, their eyes trying to read her expression. Ryder broke the silence, his voice laced with a mix of curiosity and concern. “So he’s stabbing these women and then leaving the bodies at various parks in the city.” He paused, his brows furrowing as he tried to grapple with the gravity of the situation. “Do these women have anything in common besides their race? Or is he selecting his targets at random?”

    Lieutenant Sinclair shifted his attention towards Diya and Ryder, his gaze firm and determined. “That’s what you two will find out.” He told them. “Head to the crime scene, find any evidence, and speak with the victims’ families. Ask them if they have noticed anything different lately.” The two detectives nodded in unison, immediately standing up from their seats. They walked out of the conference room, ready to begin their new case.

​

​

    “We offer our deepest condolences, Mr. and Mrs. Jiang.” Diya spoke softly, her voice filled with genuine empathy. “We understand that this is an incredibly difficult time for you, and we are truly sorry for your loss.” She paused, allowing a moment of shared sorrow to pass before continuing.

    “As painful as it is, we need to ask you a few questions.” Ryder explained, his tone gentle yet resolute. “These questions will help us find the person responsible for what happened to your daughter.” The two detectives locked eyes with the grieving parents, conveying their determination to seek justice on their behalf.

    Tears streamed down the faces of the victim’s, Naomi’s, parents as they grappled with the fact of their daughter’s loss. The raw pain etched upon their features tugged at Diya’s heart, reminding her of the responsibility she carried as a detective. She offered a small, sympathetic smile, hoping to provide some comfort amidst the anguish. With a trembling nod, Mrs. Jiang mustered the strength to respond. “Of course, anything you need.” She whispered, her voice choked with emotion.

    Ryder nodded, his voice filled with gentle understanding as he began his line of questioning. “Can you tell us where Naomi was before this tragic incident occurred? Was she heading somewhere specific?” His tone conveyed both empathy and gentle desire to gather crucial information.

    Mr. Jiang, visibly shaken but determined, sat up straight and composed himself. “She mentioned that she was going to the store to buy some groceries.” He replied, his voice quivering with grief. “Naomi had only returned home from college two weeks ago, and she was here to spend time with us.”

    A sob escaped Mrs. Jiang as she voiced her anguish, her voice filled with a mixture of sorrow and disbelief. “Why would anyone do such a terrible thing to her?” She cried, the pain evident in every word.”She was a kind-hearted person who never meant harm to anyone. No one hated her.” She paused, trying to breathe. “We heard about all those other girls. Was it about our race? Is that why?’

    Diya’s brows furrowed, mirroring the sorrow etched on her face. She tried to offer a comforting gesture, but she knew nothing would help them calm down. “We don’t have the answers yet, Mrs. Jiang.” She told her. “But please know that we are committed to doing everything in our power to find those responsible and bring them to justice.”

    A prolonged silence hung in the air before Ryder broke it with his determined voice. “In the past two weeks, did anything stand out to you?” He inquired, his voice unwavering. “Did you notice any changes in her behavior or if she became more closed off? Did she mention meeting someone new?”

    The parents exchanged a significant glance, a subtle communication that did not go unnoticed by Diya and Ryder. Mrs. Jiang turned her attention back to the detectives, inhaling deeply before speaking. “She…We noticed that Naomi seemed to be on her phone more frequently in the past week.” She shared, her voice tinged with concern.

    “This past week? Was she not as attached to her phone when she first arrived here?” Diya asked, her tone filled with genuine curiosity as she sought to understand the shift in Naomi’s behavior. 

Mr. Jiang shook his head, his expression reflecting the truth of his words. “No, usually she spends quality time with us, but this past week, she seemed…more isolated. Her attention was consumed by her phone. It was unusual for her to be so fixated on it. At first, we dismissed it, thinking she was catching up with some college friends she hadn’t seen since graduation.”

    Diya and Ryder exchanged a knowing glance. “Her phone wasn’t found with her.” Ryder shared, his voice tinged with a mix of intrigue and concern. “Could she have left it at home?”

    Mr. Jiang furrowed his brows in confusion, his face a reflection of disbelief. “No, I distinctly remember seeing her leave with her phone when she told us she was going out. It couldn’t possibly be in the house. That’s impossible.”

    Understanding dawned on Diya in an instant, her realization mirrored by Ryder as he rose from his seat. “Thank you for your time, Mr. and Mrs. Jiang.” Ryder said, voice laced with gratitude. “You’ve provided us with some valuable information. Once again, we are extremely sorry for your loss.”

    “If you have any questions or want to reach out, please don’t hesitate to call us.” Diya reassured them, offering a sympathetic smile as she and Ryder made their way out of the house. Walking towards their car, the two detectives revealed what they were both thinking.

    “So, the suspect took Naomi’s phone with him.” Diya stated, her voice a mix of curiosity and concern. “Why?”

    “Perhaps he was the person she had been in contact with over the past week.” Ryder conjectured, settling into the car. They closed their doors and sat inside, ready to delve further into their analysis. “He must have been aware that if we were to find the phone, it could potentially lead us straight to him.

    “We can contact Christina and have her trace Naomi’s phone.” Diya suggested, swiftly grabbing her phone to call their skilled technical analyst. “She can go through Naomi’s messages and see if there’s anything suspicious–”

    Just as Diya was about to make the call, her phone rang, displaying Lieutenant Sinclair’s name on the Caller ID. A sense of urgency washed over her as she exchanged a quick glance with Ryder, who immediately shifted into drive mode. Diya answered the call, her voice poised and attentive.

    “Detective Iman.” She responded, her senses heightened as she listened intently to the words of the Lieutenant. Her eyes widened in shock, her mouth agape, before she found her voice once more. “I understand. We’re on our way.”

    Ryder cast a puzzled look at Diya while keeping his focus on the road. “What’s wrong?” He asked, concern etched on his face.

    Diya pursed her lips, her mind racing with a mix of anxiety and determination. After a brief pause, she delivered the unsettling news. “Another body has been found.”

​

​

    Diya and Ryder arrived at the new crime scene, located in another park where yet another tragic discovery had been made. Hastening their steps, they approached the forensic medical examiner, Jane, who was meticulously examining the body. Diya, her voice filled with urgency and concern, initiated the conversation. “What can you tell us, Jane?”

    Jane glanced up at the detectives, her eyes squinting against the glaring sun before returning to the grim task at hand. She pointed to the stab wounds, her tone professional yet somber. “Similar pattern to the previous victims. Multiple stab wounds to the abdomen, roughly around twenty strikes in the same area. No noticeable differences from the previous cases, though.”

    Ryder nodded, absorbing the information as he knelt down to inspect the body more closely. Meanwhile, Diya remained standing, her gaze fixated on the victim’s face. The wallet found on her revealed her identity as Ameena Atwal. A sense of poignancy struck Diya as she recognized a resemblance between Ameena and herself, both being South Asian. The realization that these victims were targeted solely based on their race, and possibly gender, filled her with a chilling fear. The realization that the ongoing discrimination against people like her still happening in this present day filled her with anger.

    A gentle touch on her shoulder brought Diya back from her trance, grounding her in the present. She lifted her gaze to find Ryder once again standing beside her, his expression radiating understanding and support. In his eyes, she saw an unspoken message, a silent reassurance that he was there for her, ready to lend an ear if she needed to talk. Diya mustered a faint smile, though it failed to fully reach her eyes, and nodded in acknowledgment of his unspoken offer.

    “We should go talk to the person who found her body.” Ryder suggested, nodding in the direction of the man engaged in conversation with the police. “Maybe he saw something.” Diya nodded in agreement, and together they approached the man, Dean Westwood, who had called the police. The officers respectfully moved aside, allowing Diya and Ryder to speak with him directly. “Mr. Westwood, I’m Detective Locke, and this is my partner, Detective Iman.” Ryder addressed the man, his tone composed and focused. “You called the police after discovering the body, correct?”

    Dean appeared visibly shaken, his hands trembling at his sides as he averted his gaze towards the ground. Collecting himself, he raised his eyes to meet Diya and Ryder’s, trying to maintain composure despite his evident discomfort. “Y-yes, I did.” He stammered, swallowing hard. The way he was acting was understandable, considering he had stumbled upon a lifeless body during what was likely intended as a routine walk. “Look, I told the police everything I know. I didn’t see anyone. All I saw was the body and I immediately called the police.”

    Diya pressed further, determined to obtain any additional information from Dean. “There was no one else around when you discovered the body?” She inquired, her voice insistent. “Given that it was daytime, it’s likely that someone may have been in the area?”

    Dean locked eyes with Diya, silence stretching for a few tense seconds before he finally spoke. “No, there wasn’t anyone else here. I was the only one present when I found her.”

    Diya and Ryder exchanged a knowing glance, silently agreeing not to press Dean further. It was evident that he was still reeling from the shock, and Diya didn’t want to cause him more distress. With a nod of gratitude, the detectives expressed their appreciation for his cooperation, respectfully distancing themselves from the crime scene.

    “He’s escalating quickly.” Ryder remarked, his gaze scanning the park. “We have to find him before he strikes again.”

    Diya concurred, a determined edge in her voice. “Let’s talk to Ameena’s family first and then return to the precinct to gather all of the information we know so far.” She suggested, leading the way towards their car. “I believe we have enough to move forward.”

​

​

    Diya looked at the bulletin board, its surface adorned with the faces of the victims. Their names, ages, and any other relevant information accompanied each photograph. She crossed her arms, absorbing the weight of their collective tragedy, her heart heavy with empathy for them and their grieving families. Even after all these years, her job never got any easier, especially when the victims mirrored aspects of her own identity.

    She felt a presence beside her, and she didn’t have to turn her head to know it was Ryder. She knew he had something to say, yet he respected her need to speak first, unwilling to impose upon her vulnerability. “I can feel you staring at me, you know?” She quipped, her voice gently teasing.

Ryder chuckled, his arms crossed as he momentarily diverted his gaze to the ground. Raising his eyes to meet hers, he recognized the opportunity to extend his concern. “Are you okay?” He asked, his tone filled with genuine care.

    Diya cherished one particular quality in Ryder and that was his unwavering patience and understanding. Regardless of the circumstances, he always ensured that those around him were well and cared for. It warmed her heart that Ryder could sense when something troubled her, creating a safe space for her to share her thoughts without discomfort.

    “I’m trying to be.” Diya replied, her gaze back onto the bulletin board. “But honestly? It’s hard to focus on anything else when all these girls are so similar to me.” Ryder remained silent, wanting her to finish what was on her mind until he said anything. “Do you remember when I first joined this precinct? My first day as a detective?” Diya asked, a touch of nostalgia in her voice.

    Ryder nodded, a small smile gracing his face. “Still remember that day as if it were yesterday.” He answered, the memory invoking a fondness within him. “You were the only female detective and I remember how you fearlessly defended yourself against any criticism.”

    Diya chuckled, fondness warming her expression. However, her demeanor shifted as she delved deeper into her recollections. “And for good reason. No one would take me seriously as a detective because I was a brown woman.” She scoffed, her voice tinged with the remnants of past hardships because of the racism and misogyny. “It wasn’t until I solved my first case entirely that they finally saw me as someone who knew what she was doing.”

    She shifted her gaze onto the ceiling, feeling the tears forming at her waterline. She tried her best to not let them fall, not wanting anyone to realize her sudden emotional surge. She knew that Ryder knew, but he didn’t say anything, which she was grateful for.

    “These girls were just trying to live their lives until it was unfairly taken away from them, all because of a racist and misogynistic monster.” She murmured, her voice tinged with both sadness and frustration. Shaking her head, she closed her eyes, gathering herself before continuing.  “Why is it a constant struggle for us to earn respect from others? Why is it that to this day, this is still a recurring problem with no means to stop?”

    “Hey.” Ryder spoke softly, his voice infused with a genuine attempt to offer comfort. “We’ll find him. We are so close to finding him. Those families will deserve justice, and once we catch him, he’ll never see the light of day again.”

    Diya nodded, her throat cleared as she took a steadying breath. Her eyes returned to the bulletin board, scanning over all of the information and clues they had gathered throughout the day. After leaving the crime scene, they had immediately spoken with Ameena's devastated family. Despite the heartbreak of their precious daughter’s murder, they had provided the detectives with details that were similar to Naomi’s case. Determined to establish connections, Diya and Ryder had dedicated the entire day to speaking with the families of the other victims, ensuring they uncovered any similar circumstances.

    “The stabs in the abdomen are the suspect’s signature, but it could also possibly symbolize his need for power and control.” Diya stated, her voice steady. 

    Ryder nodded in agreement, affirming their shared understanding. “We’ve noticed a recurring pattern where the victims were frequently engaged in phone conversations or frequently left their homes in the days leading up to their murders. He took their phones with him but Christina isn’t able to track them because they were shut off, meaning she isn’t able to access the messages that could have potentially included information about the suspect.”

    Diya leaned forward, her voice low yet resolute. “We need to dig deeper into the victims’ backgrounds and connections. There must be something linking them, something that the killer saw as a common thread.”

    Ryder nodded, his mind churning with possibilities. “Let’s reexamine their social media accounts, recent activities, and personal relationships. We might find clues hidden in their online presence or any interactions that stand out.”

    As they delved deeper into their investigation, painstakingly piecing together the fragments of information, Diya’s eyes widened. “Wait, look at this.” She exclaimed, showing Ryder her laptop screen. “Each victim attended the same local art exhibition in the days leading up to their deaths. It could be a mere coincidence, but it’s worth exploring further.”

    Ryder's gaze locked onto the photo, his intuition nudging him to connect the dots. “That's where they crossed paths with the killer.” He realized, his voice tinged with determination. “We need to identify who attended that exhibition and narrow down our suspect list.”

    The next day, they went to the local art exhibition, requesting the owners to see the attendee records. However, as they cross-referenced each name and looked through their backgrounds, they weren’t able to find anything.

    “Okay, let’s go over the suspect’s profile. We’ve gathered enough information to piece it together.” Diya declared, settling into the car. Ryder nodded, ready to collaborate on building their profile.

    “He is most likely a white male in his late twenties.” Ryder began, his voice focused. “Given the nature of the crimes, we can infer that he has a history of violence, specifically rooted in racism and misogyny.”

    Diya nodded in agreement, her mind racing with possibilities. “He selects his victims at the art exhibition, strategically hiding in plain sight where he can observe them without raising suspicion or drawing attention to himself.” Suddenly, a thought struck Diya, prompting her to grab her phone. “Oh, we should have Christina check the surveillance cameras for anything suspicious.” She suggested, eager to gather additional evidence. She swiftly reached out to their technical analyst and relayed the request.

    As they awaited Christina’s response, Ryder continued with the profile. “This individual craves control and power. The helplessness of his victims fuels his twisted sense of authority. He cunningly befriends them, masking his deep-rooted hatred and exploiting their trust.”

    Diya’s eyes widened with a mix of realization and determination. “And the art exhibition provides the perfect cover for his predatory behavior.” She added. “He gains access to a diverse pool of potential victims, preying on their vulnerability within the confines of what should be a safe and welcoming environment.”

    “He’s likely someone with a high level of intelligence.” Ryder mused. “To avoid detection and leave minimal evidence behind, he must possess knowledge of forensic techniques and police procedures.”

    “Given the level of planning and precision in his crimes, he might have a meticulous nature and a tendency towards order and control. It’s possible that he has a well-established routine or pattern to his actions.” Diya continued. As they further refined their profile, a realization struck them. Diya’s voice rose with urgency. “Ryder, think about it…the killer could be someone who has direct access to information about the victims, someone who is familiar with their routines, and can monitor their activities without raising suspicion.”

    Ryder’s eyes widened as he connected the dots. “You’re right. He could be someone who purposely involves himself into the investigation, thinking it’s a smart move so no one would ever suspect him.” He paused, thinking it over.

    “Like a witness.” Diya muttered, finally realizing they were one step closer to finding the killer. Just then, Diya’s phone rang and she immediately answered. “Yeah, Christina, go ahead.”

    “Uh, so I checked the cameras at the exhibition and I didn’t notice anything until I saw this strange guy just standing against the wall. He’s wearing all black– I sent you two the footage onto your phones– and he seems to be waiting for something, or maybe someone.”
   Ryder took out his phone to view the footage, showing Diya in the process. They opened the video Christina sent, watching the exact man she described on the phone. They continued to watch the footage until the man walked up to someone, and Diya could see it was one of the victims, Naomi. They talked for a few minutes until they both walked away together, out of the camera’s sight.

    “We found him but he cleverly covered his face from the cameras.” Ryder said, turning off his phone.

    Diya took a deep breath, her voice resolute as she addressed Christina once more. “Christina, I need you to cross-check all the witnesses who discovered the victims’ bodies for any history of violence.” She paused briefly, her mind racing with possibilities. “Additionally, see if any of them have family members who worked as police officers.”

    They could hear the sound of Christina typing furiously on the other end of the line, her dedication to the task evident. Moments later, her voice broke through the silence. “Okay, I’ve found someone matching that description. This guy was charged with violence after instigating a fight at a bar, and interestingly, his father served as a police officer until he was tragically killed on duty.”

    Diya’s instincts kicked in as she posed a crucial question, her voice tinged with a mix of certainty and unease. “Let me guess, his father was killed by a woman of color?”

    Christina’s response held a hint of surprise. “Yes, that’s correct. How did you know?”

    A grim realization washed over Diya, confirming their worst fears. “His name, Christina. What’s his name?”

    “Oh, right. His name is Dean Westwood.” Christina finally replied.

    Diya and Ryder exchanged a knowing glance, the pieces of the puzzle fitting together with chilling clarity. Dean Westwood, the man who had pretended to discover the most recent victim’s body, had unwittingly woven himself into their investigation as both a witness and the prime suspect.

​

​

    “Dean Westwood, this is the police! Open the door!” Ryder’s voice rang out, amplified by the intensity of the moment. He stood in front of the door, with a team of law enforcement officers positioned behind him, their weapons drawn and ready. Tension filled the air as they waited for a response.

    After a brief pause, Ryder exchanged a knowing glance with one of the SWAT members. In one swift motion, the SWAT member unleashed a powerful kick, splintering the door and granting them access.

    The law enforcement team stormed into the residence, clearing each room. The sound of echoing voices calling out “Clear!” reverberated through Diya’s earpiece as she pressed forward, her senses heightened.

    As Diya continued cautiously, she noticed a partially open door at the back of the house. Aware of the potential danger, she approached with utmost care, her footsteps deliberate and silent. The room before her was shrouded in darkness, the absence of light adding an eerie atmosphere.

    With each step, Diya’s heart raced. As she cautiously pushed the door open, her eyes were drawn to the open window, its presence immediately capturing her attention. A sinking feeling gripped her as she scanned the room, her gaze eventually fixating on the lifeless body sprawled on the cold floor.

    Her breath caught in her throat, the weight of disappointment and frustration pressing upon her. Another victim was murdered, slipping through their fingers like sand. She was too late.

    Diya felt a presence behind her, the voice of another officer pierced the air, issuing a command for everyone to gather in the room. Recognizing the situation, Ryder swiftly guided Diya out of the way to make space for the team to attend to the new victim’s lifeless body.

    With precision and care, the fellow officers took over, their expertise evident as they moved swiftly to secure the scene. Diya’s gaze lingered on the lifeless form before her, sorrow and determination etched on her face. Ryder’s reassuring touch on her shoulder offered silent support, reminding her that this was all real.

    Her phone abruptly rang, the familiar sound of an incoming call breaking through the tense atmosphere. Diya’s pulse quickened as she reached for her phone, bringing it to her ear with a sense of anticipation. “Detective Iman.” She greeted, her voice steady despite the unease that clenched her heart.     The voice on the other end belonged to Lieutenant Sinclair. Diya listened intently as he delivered the latest news, his words sending a shiver down her spine. “Yes, sir.” She responded, her voice tinged with a mix of urgency and determination. She looked at Ryder, who was staring back at her. “A girl has just been reported missing. Her name is Luna Brown.”

​

​

    After gathering substantial evidence, their investigation led them to a park where Dean was suspected to be hiding. The detectives, along with their backup, quickly made their way to the park. As luck would have it, they arrived at the right location, spotting Dean with Luna, his grip tight on her, preventing her from making a sound as her mouth was sealed shut with tape. 

    Sirens blaring in the distance, Dean's attention was drawn to the approaching law enforcement. In a desperate attempt to assert control, he held a knife against Luna’s trembling throat.

    Diya’s heart raced, the gravity of the situation weighing heavy on her. With steady composure, she raised her hands, signaling her intention to step forward and engage Dean. Her voice carried a blend of firmness and empathy as she addressed the dangerous man before her. “Dean, lower the knife. We have you surrounded. There’s no need to harm her.” Diya said, her voice projecting strength while also offering a glimpse of understanding.

    Tension hung in the air as the standoff continued, the stakes intensifying with every passing second. Diya knew that they had to proceed with caution, avoiding any sudden moves that could endanger Luna’s life.

    With a chilling smirk, Dean released his grip on Luna. Diya’s words had resonated with him, the knowledge of him going to prison settling in his mind. Luna wasted no time, running away from him, seeking solace and safety with a compassionate officer who guided her away from the scene, as tears streamed down her face. 

    One of the police officers forcefully handcuffed Dean. The officer’s firm grip pushed Dean towards one of the waiting police cars, his every movement marked by a sense of defeat. As he walked, his eyes locked with Diya’s, a venomous smirk playing on his lips as he sought to inflict a final wound with his words. “If I had the chance, I would’ve done the same to you.” Dean taunted, his tone laced with malice and a deep-rooted hatred.

    Diya held her cold stare, her resolve unwavering as she met his gaze head-on. She refused to allow his spiteful words to pierce her defenses, her expression a testament to her strength and resilience. She held his stare, a silent declaration that his attempts to intimidate or break her had failed. The officer swiftly closed the door of the police car, separating Dean from Diya’s piercing gaze. She watched the car drive away, Diya feeling relieved that this case was finally put to an end.

​

​

    As the case reached its conclusion, a sense of relief washed over Diya. Though the lives of the innocent victims could never be restored, they had succeeded in saving the last victim from a tragic fate. Knowing that she had played a role in reuniting a young woman with her family, unharmed and safe, brought peace to Diya’s heart.

    The harsh reality of facing discrimination based on race and gender remained an unfortunate truth. Diya acknowledged that the battle against prejudice would be ongoing, a struggle that transcended the boundaries of her professional and personal life. However, she held onto the belief that her work as a detective empowered her to make a difference.

    Her resolve remained unyielding as she recognized her responsibility to create a safer world, a world where heinous crimes like the ones she had just investigated would be reduced. Diya understood that the fight against racism and misogyny would continue, but she embraced the challenge. Every criminal brought to justice, every life saved was a step towards progress.