Free Russian Hill (Abby Kane FBI Thriller - Chasing Chinatown Trilogy Book 1) by Ty Hutchinson

asleep, it would have been the perfect opportunity. But the park was small and not well known. I found it hard to believe that the killer had happened upon her by coincidence. Had he spotted her earlier and followed her home? How long did he watch her? Days? How did he know she walked her dog every night? He knew her routines. He stalked her.
    And what about the cutting of the finger? I stood up and looked around, hoping something might pop out. He had taken her finger with a diamond ring but none of her other jewelry. I pulled out my phone, pulled up the report Kang had emailed over and scanned it until I found what I was looking for. Interesting. For some reason, I assumed it had been her wedding ring finger that had gone missing. It wasn’t.
    Kang said the victim lived two houses up, so I searched the report and found the address. The street number was odd, so she lived on the left side of the street. I counted two houses and stopped in front of a beautifully renovated, two-story Victorian with a very ornate, colorful, wood-trimmed façade.
    The home sat high, away from the sidewalk, with stairs that required three switchbacks on their way up to the front door, mimicking the famous crooked street nearby. It was beautiful, but I couldn’t imagine making that climb every day. As I admired the residence, something sparkly in one of the lower hedges directly in front of me caught my eye. I moved in closer for a better look. Holy moly! I found myself staring at a large, diamond ring. It was on a finger.
    Could it be? I moved a few branches and answered my own question. It had to be the victim’s missing finger. But why leave it here? Why would the killer risk coming back to the victim’s home to plant the finger? It makes no sense.
    If the killer had indeed placed the finger here, it felt more in line with the gold teeth in the pan. Both victims had suffered body mutilation with the body part moved to another location, away from the body. Was the body part the killer’s objective or was the kill? Was the removal of the body part a way to prolong the kill? He was trying to make a statement, but about what, I wasn’t quite sure. It was a strange way to communicate, but riddles from killers aren’t unheard of.
    Still, that’s not what I thought the staging of the body parts was trying to do. And why did I continue to think Kang’s killer also did my hiker? Aside from the medical examiner’s findings and my hunch, nothing more connected the two crimes. Unless…
    I pulled out my phone and dialed.
    “Kang, here.”
    “Kyle, you’ve got it turned around.”
    “Abby is this you?”
    “Yes, it’s me. Did you hear what I said? The motivation—it’s wrong. Your guy isn’t collecting.”
    “What is he doing?”
    “He’s thrill killing.”

 
     
    Chapter 16
     
    I wasn’t far from the Central Precinct, so I told Kang and Sokolov to meet me at the vic’s home while I waited for CSI to show and process the scene. The detectives were speedy and arrived in ten minutes. As they approached, I pointed to the bush.
    Kang leaned in and immediately reeled his head back, his expression soured. “I can smell it. How did you know to look here?”
    “I didn’t. I was looking at the victim’s home when the sparkle from the ring caught my eye. I’m assuming your guy placed it here.”
    Kang stepped out of the way, and Sokolov moved in for a look. He wasn’t fazed one bit by the slightly decomposed limb. “Good catch,” the Russian said.
    “That’s it? Good catch?”
    He shrugged as he looked at me. I had inadvertently riddled the man.
    “It’s the victim’s middle finger. There’s symbolism behind it.”
    “He’s giving us the middle finger?” Kang asked.
    “Close. Look at the house. It’s a renovated Victorian, picture perfect and probably photographed by every passerby. The way the killer placed the finger on the bush, it’s as if it were giving the home the middle finger.”
    “Wait, I’m confused,” Kang