Bonus chapter for 100 power stone thank you for donating
Chapter 194: Chuck: Is it that hard?
The next day.
"Hey, where's Agent Banner?"
Detective Rostenkowski looked at Chuck getting out of the car alone with surprise.
"She's injured and resting. She can't work on cases for the next few days,"
Chuck said calmly.
"How did she get injured?"
Detective Rostenkowski asked instinctively with concern, then met Chuck's gaze.
"Are you interested?"
"...I'm not interested."
Detective Rostenkowski had only asked out of politeness, but Chuck's question suddenly made him lose interest. He quickly looked at the car Chuck had driven this time and happily changed the subject. "Why didn't you drive that economy car? Isn't it supposed to be fuel-efficient?"
"Saving fuel is work, burning fuel is life,"
Chuck said succinctly.
"Saving fuel is work, burning fuel is life... that's brilliant!"
Detective Rostenkowski's eyes lit up. The more he pondered the statement, the more profound it seemed, revealing the true philosophy of balancing work and life.
"Did they catch the dealer?"
Chuck asked.
"Caught him. Locked him up inside."
Detective Rostenkowski, upon hearing the question, stopped himself from dwelling on his epiphany and nodded with a smile. "He's not some big-time criminal, no need for all that fuss."
Chuck started walking into the police station.
Detective Rostenkowski quickly followed, leading the way.
The two arrived at the interrogation room.
Inside sat a white man in his thirties.
"Repeat what you said before,"
Detective Rostenkowski snapped at the young man.
"Officer, I've already said that..."
the young white man yawned and muttered, but under Detective Rostenkowski's glare, he glanced at Chuck and honestly said, "A while ago, I saw a housewife at the farmers market. She was well-dressed but looked utterly desperate, selling some cheap jewelry. Nobody was buying it.
I immediately figured she was a well-off housewife facing financial problems. I've seen plenty of people like that in this economy, so I had a sudden idea to approach her and tell her that selling these things wouldn't save her family!
Without any further persuasion, this woman, who would never have looked at people like us before, immediately agreed to distribute those pills for me. Then I discovered that my sudden inspiration had created my biggest customer.
In just a few days, she bought more from me than all the other distributors I had painstakingly cultivated. I have to say, housewives really do have potential. If I had known this earlier, I would have been rich long ago."
"Get to the point!"
Rostenkowski slammed his hand on the table, his mustache bristling and eyes wide.
In his eyes, recruiting housewives to sell drugs was utterly despicable—pure evil!
"A week later, she came back feeling guilty every time, saying that because of her, Haven was now flooded with all sorts of pills, even kids could easily get their hands on them."
The drug dealer continued knowingly, "Then some teenage girl somehow got hold of the pills, mixed them with alcohol, got high, and crashed her car into a tree, killing herself.
She was devastated for a day, vowing never to come back for more after this batch. But as you all know, there's no such thing as 'never coming back.' A few days later, she was back again, still claiming it was the last time. I just watched like it was a joke, not trying to stop her, letting her choose.
Sure enough, every time she said it was the last time, she came back on schedule to buy more, even setting new records for quantity, haha."
At this point, the drug dealer, remembering Scarlett's conflicted attitude, couldn't help but burst into laughter.
"Damn it!"
Detective Rostenkowski cursed. "Tell me what happened, and stop laughing!"
"Alright."
The criminal shrugged, forcibly suppressing his smile. "Her business was doing very well, so I came over to observe. I discovered she was actually the chairwoman of the Haven Women's Committee. Just when I thought my operation was about to take off, she was suddenly poisoned. But I didn't do it."
Seeing Chuck looking at him, the criminal quickly explained, "Because I couldn't possibly poison my biggest customer, could I? If you really need a suspect, I'll tell you—not long ago a young woman called me in a sweet, flirty voice, saying she was a friend of Scarlett's, and that if Scarlett wanted to quit, she could take over."
"What's her name?"
Detective Rostenkowski asked.
"I don't know her name,"
the drug dealer cooperated. "But I have her phone number; it's in my phone."
In the US, while crime isn't considered the end of the world—it's just a matter of going to prison—the sentence for drug dealing is completely different from murder.
Now that things had come to this, he certainly didn't want to be treated as a murder suspect. Besides, if this woman who called him really killed his biggest client and exposed him, he'd be more than willing to implicate her.
And if he didn't give her up now, his phone had been confiscated, and they'd find out sooner or later anyway.
"Shit! It's Mandy!"
Detective Rostenkowski had the drug dealer identify the number and immediately had the department's tech guys trace it. They quickly found out that the number belonged to Mandy, one of the town's women's committee members.
Good Lord!
They should have been the positive role models of the town, but now one drug dealer was poisoned, one was the prime suspect for taking over the business, one was secretly using drugs, and another was from Colombia—it was all falling apart! What a mess!
"Detective."
Just as Detective Rostenkowski thought he had caught the killer, his subordinate whispered a few words to him, leaving him stunned.
Chuck strode outside.
"Dr. Wolfe, did you hear what happened?"
Detective Rostenkowski followed closely, exclaiming incredulously, "Mandy was also murdered! What the hell is going on?"
"It's simple. Either she wasn't the killer, or there's a second killer,"
Chuck said calmly.
"What do you think?"
Rostenkowski asked, exasperated.
"Let's go to the scene first,"
Chuck said noncommittally.
The two drove there. The crime scene was the town's spa. Mandy lay there, barely clothed, a screwdriver stuck in her chest.
"Damn it!"
Detective Rostenkowski cursed upon seeing her.
This was already the second murder case in town, and the key was that they were both prominent housewives who were supposedly respectable citizens.
If it were later revealed that they were killed because of drug dealing, it would definitely cause a huge media circus.
In America, drug dealing is nothing unusual, nor is murder, but a housewife who deals drugs and is then murdered is definitely hot gossip, highly relatable, and even eye-opening for some people.
And at that point, the detective in charge of the case would be under immense pressure.
"This was a crime of passion."
Chuck glanced around and gave his assessment. "Ask Mrs. Heather if she's been here."
"Mrs. Heather?"
Detective Rostenkowski was taken aback. "What does this have to do with her?"
"There's her perfume here."
Chuck said calmly. "Based on the usual concentration of her perfume, the amount remaining here, and the time frame, she was in this room two hours ago."
"The clerk said that Mandy came in for a spa tanning session two hours ago."
Detective Rostenkowski was dumbfounded. "Two hours later, when the time was up, the clerk came in and found Mandy murdered. No one was seen coming in or leaving during that time. The timing matches perfectly. But you really can determine not only who was here, but also how long ago, just by smell?"
"Simple math problem."
Chuck glanced at him. "Is it that hard?"
Detective Rostenkowski: "..."
(End of Chapter)
If you enjoyed this chapter, leave a Review!
P*atreon/Soulforger (50+ advanced chapters)
Buy me coffee - ko-fi*com/soulforger01