"Hey Detective Monroe come here." The officer at the desk called out to him.
He walks over to the desk. "What is it?"

"The Sewer kid is in your office, and we are about to release your suspect Bob Hart."

"Thanks for the info, and I will talk to the kid." Eddie walked into his office and found Tommy sitting in the chair. "Well hello Tommy, and how are you?"
"I am fine Detective Monroe, any word on my sister?"

"Well Tommy she is at a shelter and is safe, just know she is in a safe environment."

"Where is she, can I see her?"

"Now Tommy she needs to stay where she is, so she will be safe."

"Ok, I guess I will go back home and wait for her return."

"Good idea Tommy." Tommy left Eddie's office, obviously not happy with the information Monroe gave him. He felt sorry for the kid, and with good reason. The kid had just lost his mother to a killer, and his sister was psychologically scared. Eddie picked up the phone and called down to booking and the holding cell. "This is Detective Monroe; I understand Bob Hart is being released today."

"Yes there is not enough evidence to hold him."

"Thanks."

There was not enough evidence to keep Bob in jail, since there was no DNA to be tested from the rape kit. These women were raped and murdered, but with an object not a male penis. Maybe a condom was used, but there was no evidence of condom material or the lubricant even found. Eddie started thinking the case has more questions than answers.
The killer went searching for his next soul to save. He knew the place to look was in the local bars, because the women there are lonely, desperate, and their souls are in pain. He kept wondering why the mother of two kept acting as if she knew who he was. Did he met her before, or was there something familiar about him that she thought she recognized. In addition, he wondered who this Detective Monroe was and why did the doctor think he was this person. He pulled into the parking lot of Casey's the joint was jumping, there would be plenty of souls for him to save tonight, just need to find the one most in need of saving. He walked over to the bar, where there was a beautiful woman who looked depressed. "Hello beautiful can I buy you a drink?"

She looked up at him and smiled "Why of course you can, I will have a seven and seven, thank you. My name is Samantha."

"Hello Samantha, my name is Henry." He reaches his hand out to shake her hand.

"Hi Henry, and thanks for the drink." She lifts her glass to him, and he lifts his in return to her. "Well Henry tell me about yourself and what you are looking for in life."

"Well, you can say that I save people who are in despair, and what about you Samantha what are you looking for in life?" He wanted to qualify that she needed her soul saved. He looked her straight in the eye expecting a certain answer, but did not get the answer he wanted.

"Well I am with a great guy who just asked me to marry him; I am waiting for him now." Just then her finance walked in. "There he is, Frank, over here." She waved him over, but when he got there, Henry was gone.
He continued looking, but this time looked for a girl who looked sad and desperate. He needed to find a soul to save; he was like a drug addict looking for his next fix. This feeling over came him like a tidal wave on the shore of a beach, he needed to save a soul before he could do anything else. Then he noticed her, she was nursing her drink like a baby with a bottle. He could see she was sad and lonely; she was perfect, her soul was crying out to be saved. He walked over to her, the closer he got to her he noticed she had tears running down her checks. He thought to himself, "This soul is in desperate need of saving." He sat down on the stool next to her, thinking of what to say. It came to him, a smile creep up on his face making him look like the lunatic he is.
She noticed him sitting there after a few minutes. He was not looking in her direction, so she just ignored him. After a few minutes he turned toward her, he started to say something, but changed his mind, and turned back the other way. She figured she better break the ice. She tapped him on the shoulder, "Hello, I noticed you were trying to talk to me. My name is Cheryl, and I am having a bad day, so I really want to be left alone."

He turned towards her, "Really then why are you even talking to me. My name is Henry."
She chuckled, "Ok Henry you win. Your tactic is original and you got my attention."

"Cheryl, why are you crying in your drink?"

"My divorce was final today, I did not want it, but my husband, ex-husband was the one who pushed it through, so he could be with his twenty-two year old girlfriend."

"Now why would a man pass off a beautiful mature woman like you to be with an immature airhead?"

"Thank you I keep asking myself that same question."

He knew he had her, he bought her another drink, and they kept talking until closing time. He convinced her to leave the bar with him, for her soul needed saving, he was going to put her out of her misery. They went to alley, she kissed him, and he kissed her back. She was drunk, and he made her feel sexy and beautiful. She started to make sexual advances towards him and he pushed her away.
"What is wrong?" She asked him with a tremble in her voice. She wondered what she did to turn him off so fast. "Did I do something wrong?"

He looked at her, and smiled, a smile that gave him a look of evil. "No, you did nothing wrong. I was shocked at how forward you were." He took her hand and lifted it up to his mouth, and kissed it gently. She smiled at him. He turned her around, so her back was to him. She was waiting for a tender touch, but instead felt the cold steal of a knife at her throat. Fear came across her body as if she was hit with a barrel of cold water. He whispered in her ear, "I am here to save you from yourself."

He stuck the knife deep in her throat and cut her from ear to ear, and smiled as she fell to the ground like a sack of potatoes. He smiled and straddled her body, and looked deep in to her eyes, which were fading with every squirt of blood that shot out of her neck. He then took her left hand, and cut the ring finger off and traced her mouth as in a gesture of erotic fun. He then opens her mouth and stuffs the finger in it with such a force that the blood from her neck splattered on his face. He was satisfied with his work, and she was another soul saved. He looked at her for the last time, thought this one was different, and would bring him much pleasure. He was excited at the site of this one, but received no physical pleasure from her, not like the others.