Chapter 19 A Black Scorpion

When I saw the scorpion, it reminded me of the scorpion tattoo on the arm of that dead guy in the cave. There was this hazy memory—under some dim light, a dude stood in front of me with a black scorpion inked on his arm too.

Could there be a link between them?

My gut told me this button might be the key to cracking the case!

I got the button sent off for testing, hoping they'd find some fingerprints or DNA.

Meanwhile, I started digging into Elizabeth's social life before she died, looking for any leads.

Elizabeth's social circle was pretty small. Besides her job at the funeral home, she was also an online streamer.

I logged into her streaming channel and watched her old streams, hoping to spot something.

Most of her streams were about makeup and fashion, with some daily life stuff thrown in. Seemed pretty normal.

But in her recent streams, she looked distracted, with a bit of anxiety and unease in her eyes, like something was bugging her.

I watched every frame closely, trying to catch any subtle clues.

Then, my eyes locked onto a ring on her hand.

It had a unique design, with a red gemstone in the center, shaped like a drop of blood!

I felt like I'd seen that ring somewhere before.

I racked my brain, and suddenly, a scene flashed in my mind: under dim light, a man stood in front of me, wearing a similar ring.

Could he be "Hecate"?

I got someone to look into the origin of the ring, hoping to find some clues.

In the autopsy room, the smell of formalin was strong, and the cold metal instruments reflected the harsh white light, making the place feel even creepier.

I took a deep breath, my stomach churning, trying not to puke.

Ella stood by the autopsy table, wearing a mask and gloves, looking serious. She pointed to Elizabeth's body and said, "We found a rare drug in her system, codenamed 'K5'. This drug is super dangerous, causing intense hallucinations and dependency. An overdose can be fatal."

Her tone was calm, with that professional detachment that matched the cold room.

"K5," I repeated, the name unfamiliar. My brain was working overtime, trying to connect it with anything I knew.

Various case files, drug types, and info about criminal gangs flashed through my mind, but I couldn't find the key clue.

Then, a light bulb went off in my head, like a lightning bolt in the night. A vague memory fragment emerged. "Wait, K5. I think I've seen it somewhere." I slapped my forehead, frustrated that I couldn't remember right away.

I turned and almost ran back to my office, my heart racing, and my breathing quickening. I couldn't wait to check my suspicion, a mix of excitement and tension swirling inside me.

I turned on my computer and quickly typed on the keyboard, searching for info about the "K5" drug. The progress bar on the webpage moved slowly, each second feeling like forever.

"I found it!" I almost shouted. The search results on the screen confirmed my memory.

A year ago, I was part of a drug smuggling case investigation, and we seized a batch of new drugs, including K5!

I clearly remembered Ryan Martin holding the test report, excitedly talking about how unique K5's composition was, but I was too busy with other leads to pay much attention. Now, thinking back, I deeply regretted it.

And the source of this batch of drugs was a website called "The Catcher in the Rye"!

"The Catcher in the Rye," I muttered, feeling a cold dread wrap around my heart like a snake, making it hard to breathe.

I tried logging into the forum right away, but the site was shut down, crushing my hopes instantly.

Damn it! Just a step too late! I slammed the table in frustration, the sound echoing in the room.

Refusing to be deterred, I plunged into the darkest corners of the internet, following digital bread crumbs and whispers in online forums.

Persistence paid off, and I finally found some chatter about "The Catcher in the Rye" in a hidden online community.

The forum's moderator was a mysterious figure with the username "The Catcher in the Rye." No one knew who he really was, but he seemed to know a lot about drugs and often posted about drug deals.

I read through the discussions carefully, and suddenly, something caught my eye.

[Rumor has it that 'The Catcher in the Rye' is connected to Elizabeth's death.]

My heart skipped a beat. Could Elizabeth's death be tied to "The Catcher in the Rye"?

I got in touch with the cyber police right away, asking for their help in finding out who "The Catcher in the Rye" really was.

Just then, my phone rang. It was Isabella.

"James, there's a video online. You need to see it." She sounded urgent.

I quickly turned on my computer and clicked the video link.

The video was blurry, like it was filmed secretly with a phone.

It started playing, the footage dark and shaky, filled with noise.

My heart leaped into my throat, a sense of dread washing over me.

In the video, a man wearing a clown mask stood beside Elizabeth's corpse. His face was hidden, but he held a bright red rose, the petals looking like they were stained with blood, sinister in the dim light.

He spoke slowly, his voice altered, low and hoarse, making it impossible to tell his original tone, but the coldness and hatred in his words pierced my ears like needles, sending chills down my spine.

"This is what you owe me. Now, you can rest in peace." Each word seemed forced out through clenched teeth, filled with deep-seated hatred.

At the end of the video, the man bent down and gently placed the red rose on Elizabeth's chest. The stark contrast between the vibrant red rose and her pale, lifeless skin was burned into my mind, impossible to forget.

Then, he turned and walked away, his figure fading into the darkness, leaving behind an eerie silence.

I quickly hit the space bar, pausing the video, the screen frozen as the man turned to leave.

My hand trembled slightly, fingertips cold, my heart pounding.

I closed my eyes tightly, taking a deep breath, trying to calm the storm inside.

This video was clearly released by the killer on purpose, taunting us, and hinting that Elizabeth's death was a meticulously planned revenge!

"Revenge," I whispered, the word heavy with unspoken implications. Who was Elizabeth involved with? What had she gotten herself tangled up in?

The killer's arrogance was a slap in the face, a challenge I couldn't ignore. We were playing his game now, but I'd be damned if I let him win.

"The Catcher." He was the key to this twisted game, and I had a sinking feeling Elizabeth wasn't his first victim. And she wouldn't be his last unless I stopped him.