The Missing Puzzle Piece

Detective James Carter had been haunted by one case for the past ten years. The case of the missing puzzle piece. It was a nickname given to a series of murders that occurred in his city, where the killer would leave behind a piece of a jigsaw puzzle at each crime scene. The pieces were from different puzzles, and none of them matched. The killer seemed to be taunting the police, challenging them to solve his twisted game.

Carter had been the lead investigator on the case, and he had devoted his life to finding the killer. He had followed every lead, every clue, every hunch, but nothing had led him to the truth. The case had gone cold, and Carter had been transferred to another department. But he never gave up. He kept working on the case in his spare time, hoping to find the missing piece that would crack it open.

One day, he received a package at his office. It was a small box wrapped in brown paper, with no return address. He opened it cautiously, and his heart skipped a beat. Inside was a jigsaw puzzle piece, stained with blood. It was the same kind of piece that the killer had left behind. There was also a note that read:

"Hello, Detective Carter. I've missed you. Did you miss me? I have a surprise for you. A new game. A new puzzle. Are you ready to play? Meet me at the old warehouse on 5th Street tonight at midnight. Don't be late. And don't bring anyone else. It's just you and me. The final piece awaits."

Carter felt a surge of adrenaline and fear. He knew it was a trap, but he also knew he had to go. He had to face the killer, and end this once and for all. He grabbed his gun and his badge, and headed to the warehouse.

He arrived at the dark and deserted building, and entered cautiously. He saw a dim light coming from a corner, and followed it. He reached a large room filled with boxes and crates, and saw a table in the center. On the table was a large jigsaw puzzle, almost complete. There was only one piece missing.

Carter approached the table slowly, and saw that the puzzle was a picture of himself. It was made from various photos of him taken over the years, some from his personal life, some from his work life. He recognized some of them as photos he had in his home or office, others as photos taken by surveillance cameras or reporters. He realized that the killer had been watching him for a long time, studying him, stalking him.

He also saw that there was another person in the room, sitting on a chair behind the table. It was a man wearing a black hooded cloak that covered his face. He was holding something in his hand.

"Hello, Detective Carter," the man said in a distorted voice. "I'm glad you came."

"Who are you?" Carter asked, aiming his gun at him.

"I'm your worst nightmare," the man said. "I'm the missing puzzle piece."

"What do you want from me?" Carter asked.

"I want to play with you," the man said. "I want to show you something."

He lifted his hand, and revealed what he was holding. It was another jigsaw puzzle piece, stained with blood.

"This is the final piece," he said. "The piece that completes the puzzle."

He placed it on the table, and fitted it into the empty spot on the puzzle.

Carter gasped as he saw what it was.

It was a photo of his wife's face.

His wife who had been murdered ten years ago.

His wife who had been the first victim of the missing puzzle piece killer.