Chapter 195: The Uninvited Guest at the Amazing Amy Book Signing Event: Slugger, You're the Best!
"Mrs. Heather? Why?"
After the initial shock, Detective Rostenkowski rationally set aside the technical questions, suppressing the thought that flashed through his mind: 'Since you can make this judgment so quickly, didn't you also sense something at the crime scene at the party?' He began to consider Mrs. Heather's motive if Chuck was right.
"Her daughter was killed in a car accident while high on drugs."
Chuck glanced at him.
"Ah, right!"
Detective Rostenkowski suddenly realized.
It wasn't that he hadn't thought of it immediately; rather, some time had passed since Mrs. Heather's daughter's death in a car accident. Although unfortunate, it wasn't a criminal case, and for a detective like him, it didn't garner much attention. Furthermore, although he now knew Scarlett was involved in drug dealing, subconsciously he still found it difficult to completely connect the town's top women's committee member with a drug dealer.
"She placed all the blame on Scarlett, the drug dealer, but why Mandy?"
Muttering to himself, he met Chuck's gaze and Detective Rostenkowski scratched his bald head, racking his brains. "That drug dealer said Mandy wanted to take over Scarlett's drug business... Could it be that Mrs. Heather was going to kill Mandy because of that?"
"That should be it,"
Chuck said calmly. "She thought she had become a good person."
"A good person?"
Detective Rostenkowski's expression was somewhat strange.
"Forced to do what she could for the good of the community,"
Chuck said expressionlessly. "And then, whether it was using drugs, drinking, or partying, as long as it was all for her family, she considered herself a model American woman."
"But if she had reported this behavior in the first place, at least her daughter wouldn't have gotten the drugs so easily and then gotten into a drug-induced car accident,"
Rostenkowski remarked.
"Scarlett and Mandy thought the same way,"
Chuck said. "Scarlett, because her husband could no longer provide for the family, chose the worst possible path. She kept saying she wouldn't do it again, yet she kept breaking sales records, spending the quick money from drug dealing to throw lavish parties to prove she was doing well—the epitome of having her cake and eating it too.
Mandy, on the other hand, dropped the pretense and directly wanted to take over the drug business. After all, once you've lost your way, there are always more excuses than solutions, and eventually you'll find yourself 'forced' to do it."
"Damn hypocrites!"
Detective Rostenkowski cursed. "Isn't this just... you know..."
They want to have it both ways while maintaining a virtuous image.
Although they were both housewives who hadn't worked for years, they could certainly find legitimate work if they wanted to.
It's just that these so-called good women clearly didn't want to do hard labor; they only wanted easy, quick-money jobs.
This was New Jersey, adjacent to New York, so their mindset was naturally similar. They had a very high tolerance for risky activities, even higher than for traditional, labor-intensive industries.
Therefore, for those looking for easy, quick money, certain illegal avenues seemed like the obvious choice.
"Let's go,"
Chuck said, walking outside.
Detective Rostenkowski gestured for the forensic team to continue their work. Now that they had basically identified the suspect, finding evidence would be much simpler. Unlike the planned poisoning at the party last time, this crime of passion could likely be documented with careful investigation.
At Mrs. Heather's house.
"Mike,"
Mrs. Heather opened the door, her eyes widening in surprise at Detective Rostenkowski's serious expression. She forced a smile and said, "What's wrong?"
"Tell me,"
Detective Rostenkowski said in a low voice, "Why?"
"I...I don't know what you're talking about,"
Mrs. Heather said, avoiding direct eye contact.
"Just because Scarlett was involved in drug dealing, which led to your daughter's overdose and car accident, you chose to poison her. Now you've killed Mandy. What exactly are you trying to do?"
Detective Rostenkowski chose to confront her directly.
If he could force Mrs. Heather to confess, his workload would be greatly reduced.
Mrs. Heather initially tried to conceal the truth, but upon hearing about her daughter's overdose and crash, her expression immediately changed. Her eyes filled with grief and rage as she cried out, "My daughter was only 15 years old, and now she's dead. Is it all just a trivial matter in your eyes because Scarlett was involved in drug dealing?"
"Your daughter is your daughter, but other people's daughters aren't?"
Chuck said expressionlessly. "You're a member of the town's women's committee. You should be advocating for the women and children of this town, including your daughter. But what did you do? Not only did you use drugs yourself, but you also protected Scarlett's drug dealing activities in town. If your daughter hadn't been involved, would you have thought this was a trivial matter that you could ignore? Unfortunately, some things seem weightless until they affect you personally, but once they do, they weigh a ton."
Mrs. Heather's face shifted rapidly, anger, shame, and regret tangled together. Under the watchful eyes of Chuck and Detective Rostenkowski, she cried out in grief and rage, "What could I say? What could I do?!"
"You've done plenty,"
Chuck said calmly. "Killing Scarlett was to avenge your daughter, and killing Mandy was to prevent her from harming children like your daughter, wasn't it?"
Seeing a flicker of fear and conflict on Mrs. Heather's face, Chuck continued, "The situation is clear. Mandy was killed in the heat of the moment. Your perfume was left at the scene, and the spa staff have confirmed that no one had been to that room before Mandy was killed. More evidence is being collected. Don't you have anything to say? Or did you do all this simply because you wanted to take over Scarlett's drug business?"
"No!!!"
Mrs. Heather cried out, breaking down immediately. "I did all this for my daughter, for the other children! How could I do it for some drug business!!!"
"Explain yourself,"
Chuck said, looking at her. "The whole story! You know how things work in this small town. If you don't confess now, even if you say you did it for your daughter and the other children, not many people will believe you. After all, you yourself are a drug user, and dealing drugs to support your habit is far more believable than your claim that you were trying to avenge your daughter and protect other children. People know that addicts have no sense of right or wrong, no emotions, and no bottom line. They'll do anything to get their fix!"
"No!!!"
Mrs. Heather shouted, "I did all this for my daughter and the other children! I didn't do it to support my addiction!!! I admit I was wrong not to stop Scarlett at first.
But I had my reasons. Scarlett was my best friend. She went down this path, what could I do? Report her immediately?
I couldn't do it!
When I found out my daughter died in a car accident, I knew God was punishing me, and I regretted it then.
But at that time, I didn't have much hatred for Scarlett, let alone the intention to kill her. What I really couldn't stand was that even though she knew it was her fault, only a few weeks later, she was back to her old self, still making quick money from drug dealing, throwing lavish parties, standing on the steps looking down at all of us, as if nothing had happened. She was still the radiant leader of the Haven Women's Committee!
It was my daughter who paid the price! It was me!
So I wanted her to pay the price too! Only then would we be even!"
"And Mandy?"
Detective Rostenkowski pressed, "You killed her because she wanted to take over Scarlett's drug business?"
"Yes!"
Mrs. Heather gritted her teeth, "After Scarlett died, Mandy couldn't wait to steal the key to the safe that Scarlett used as the chair of the Women's Committee, wanting to continue using it to store drugs. She had no shame whatsoever!
I warned her not to do it, but she wouldn't listen. I had no choice but to kill her to prevent her from making the same mistakes!"
Chuck looked at Detective Rostenkowski.
"Lisa Heather, you're under arrest!"
Detective Rostenkowski pulled out handcuffs, cuffed Mrs. Heather, and took her away.
At the hillside villa.
"What?"
Jane, who had collapsed from exhaustion, sat bolt upright upon hearing the news, looking at Chuck with disbelief and suspicion. "You solved the case in half a day without me?"
She was utterly dejected, feeling utterly useless in every way.
"It was a coincidence,"
Chuck said. "She just happened to commit another crime, and her perfume scent lingered at the scene. This time, without the distracting party atmosphere, it was easy to identify her."
"Easy for you,"
Jane said, wincing at her soreness, "but for me, it's impossible to identify someone by perfume alone. And this delay could have resulted in more victims."
"We're only responsible for solving cases,"
Chuck said, looking at her. "Even law enforcement isn't responsible for preventing crime and protecting the public; we have neither the right nor the obligation."
"Okay,"
Jane had heard Chuck express this attitude before. She didn't dwell on the systemic issues, lying down and looking at Chuck. "What's next?"
"That's up to you,"
Chuck said bluntly. "After this case, do you still want to stay?"
"..."
Jane's lips twitched.
Was this about the case?
Wasn't the main point whether she could handle staying?
"Stay!"
Jane looked at Chuck's calm expression, a strange feeling washing over her. Fear mixed with determination, she gritted her teeth and said, "I've decided!"
She'd stick to her guns; if she didn't break from it, she'd see it through to the end!
If she did break, she'd consider it repaying Chuck's previous life-saving favor.
"Good, continue to recuperate,"
Chuck said calmly. "I have to attend the Dunphy family dinner tonight. I'll have Phil Dunphy, the real estate agent in town, help you rent a place."
"It's your decision,"
Jane nodded, a mixture of disappointment and relief.
Disappointment because even if she stayed, even if the villa had enough rooms, even if their relationship was so close, Chuck kept his word and wouldn't let her stay in the villa.
Relief because Chuck renting a place for her was, in a way, a gesture of consideration, giving her a sense of security deep down.
After all, everyone needs their own private space.
Night fell.
At the Dunphy family home.
"Why haven't they arrived yet?"
The eldest daughter, Haley, heavily made up and dressed provocatively, stood at the door, frequently looking outside.
"Because it's not time yet,"
the middle daughter, Alex, mocked. "You say you're a fan of Dr. Wolfe, but you don't even know he's very punctual?"
"Mind your own business!"
the eldest daughter, Haley, scoffed. "Who said they were rational fans, trying to improve themselves? Now you've secretly dressed up, trying to show off a beauty you don't have."
Alex, who had been secretly dressing up, blushed. "I just dressed up casually, unlike you who look like you're working a street corner. I can't blame Dad entirely last time. Anyone who saw you like that, even without that pickup truck ad, would call you like crazy. You look just like the girl in the Boland Auto Dealership TV commercial!"
"You!"
Haley was furious.
As a real estate agent in America, one needs to advertise frequently. The forms of advertising are varied, including billboards, vehicle wraps, and of course, local television commercials.
Boland Auto Dealership was wealthy; the boss and his attractive female assistant filmed a TV commercial that was broadcast repeatedly on television.
Phil Dunphy, an ambitious real estate agent, printed his family's photos and phone number directly on his pickup truck, in addition to billboard advertisements.
He believed that real estate agents sell trust, and by letting people know he had a happy family, he could gain their trust and make them think of him first when looking to rent, buy, or sell a property.
However, he made a critical mistake. After printing the photos, while his wife Claire was driving their eldest daughter Haley to school, other drivers frequently whistled at Claire and Haley, and even followed them, calling them.
Because his and his son's photos were indistinct, everyone saw only the photos and phone number of Claire and her daughter. Those who knew, knew.
Claire initially thought she was still as attractive as ever, until her phone was ringing off the hook with increasingly lewd and unrestrained calls, at which point she realized the real reason.
"I told you."
As a father, Phil Dunphy should have immediately scolded and stopped his two daughters from saying such things, but as an excellent real estate agent, he first looked at his wife to prove that although the idea was terrible and had caused them a lot of trouble, it wasn't necessarily all his fault; it could also be because Haley was too provocative.
"Girls, stop it!"
Claire rolled her eyes at her husband, glanced at her eldest daughter Haley standing in the doorway, and although she didn't want to admit it, she couldn't help but think in the direction her middle daughter Alex had mentioned. Fearing that someone passing by might mistake her daughter for a streetwalker, she quickly went over and pulled her eldest daughter Haley into the house.
"Gloria, Chuck has solved the case now, why aren't you happy?"
Phil Dunphy turned to his young stepmother-in-law and asked with concern.
"Should I be happy?"
Gloria glared and pouted. "Am I happy that Scarlett was a drug dealer, while I, from Colombia, the supposed home of drug cartels, am not? Or should I be happy that everyone knew Scarlett was a drug dealer, but I'm the only one who didn't?"
"Both!"
Phil Dunphy paused for a moment, then spread his arms and laughed. "Whether you're innocent or you were kept in the dark, it's a good thing!"
"Ha!"
Gloria crossed her arms and leaned back strategically. "Compared to the discrimination I feel from being excluded from my circle of friends, I'd rather I had been in the know!"
Phil Dunphy's smile froze. He didn't know what to say, but thankfully, his middle daughter, Alex, came to his rescue. "It's time, Dr. Wolfe is here!"
As Alex checked the time, there was a knock on the door. The Dunphy family fell silent. Chuck's former client, Phil Dunphy's father-in-law, Jay, opened the door and smiled, "Chuck, welcome!"
New York.
The book signing for Amazing Amy's new book was in full swing.
"Dad, she's amazing!"
A blonde girl, about eight or nine years old, held an old copy of "Amazing Amy's School Days: Third Grade" in one hand and her father's hand in the other, gazing admiringly at the Amazing Amy sitting there signing books for a group of fans.
"Slugger, you'll definitely be better than her someday,"
the girl's father said, patting his daughter's hair. He looked at the Amazing Amy signing books on stage, then at the parents of Amazing Amy, who were beaming with joy at their recent success. He smiled and narrowed his eyes.
"Really?"
the little girl, whom her father called "Slugger" as a baseball nickname, asked excitedly.
"Of course!"
the father nodded firmly. "Because you're my daughter! You're the best!"
(End of Chapter)
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