Signs of Murder

Chapter 7

Kaito pushed the car to its limits, weaving through traffic as rain hammered against the windshield. The digital clock on the dashboard flashed 11:47 PM.

Thirteen minutes left.

Reina had her phone pressed to her ear. "Takahara isn't answering. Either he doesn't trust unknown numbers, or—"

"He's already dead," Kaito finished grimly.

They tore through the Minato Ward streets, finally pulling up to an old apartment complex. The building was dark, the only light coming from a single flickering streetlamp.

Kaito and Reina sprinted up the stairs, reaching Apartment 507.

Kaito banged on the door. "Kenji Takahara! Open up! It's the police!"

Silence.

No movement inside.

Reina exchanged a glance with Kaito, then pulled out her gun. Kaito did the same. Without another word, he kicked the door in.

The stench of blood hit them instantly.

The apartment was trashed—papers scattered, furniture overturned. A struggle. And in the middle of it all…

Kenji Takahara's body lay slumped in a chair, his throat slit cleanly from ear to ear.

A pool of blood had soaked into the wooden floor beneath him.

Kaito's jaw clenched. They were too late.

Reina stepped closer, covering her mouth. "Damn it…"

Then, Kaito's eyes locked onto something.

The wall behind Takahara.

Another symbol, drawn in his blood. This one was different from the last. More intricate.

A message.

Kaito took a step closer. His stomach turned when he realized what it was.

A name.

KAITO MORI.

His own name. Written in blood.

Reina whispered, "They're not just playing with us anymore."

Kaito's fists clenched. No.

This wasn't a game anymore.

This was personal.

To Be Continued...