Chapter 232
Her mouth had been bashed in.
Chris lowered his eyes.
Winter’s face went white. Who could have been vicious enough to do something like that to Mrs. Young?
Her hands shook with anger as she clenched them into fists. “Did you catch who did it p>
A female officer answered, “Yes. We have a suspect in custody. He was drunk, and we’re still questioning him p>
Inside the interrogation room, the lights were painfully bright. A man reeking of alcohol sat handcuffed to the chair.
“Did you know the victim?” the officer asked.
By the time he was brought in, the drunk had sobered up some, but the harsh light still made it hard for him to open his eyes. His heart was pounding.
At the officer’s stern voice, he let out a nervous hiccup.
“ No. ”
The officer’s expression hardened. “Then why did you kill her p>
“I didn’t!” the man cried, his face turning pale.
“ I…” He looked up with bloodshot, hungover eyes and clawed at his hair with his cuffed hands. “I don’t remember much. I came downstairs and accidentally bumped into her. She fell, then started cursing me out, calling me a drunken bum. I’d already been in a bad mood because I lost money betting on a game, so I went out drinking. That stupid woman ran into me first. I got mad and I picked up a rock. I just p>
“So you killed her?” the officer pressed, his eyes sharp.
“ No!” the man shouted. “I didn’t mean to kill her. I just wanted her to shut up. How was I supposed to know she was that weak? I really didn’t mean to kill her. Officer, you have to believe me. I was drunk. I didn’t know what I was doing p>
Hearing that statement, anger surged through Winter. She forced herself to stay calm as she answered.
“That’s impossible. Mrs. Young was always gentle. Even if he really did knock her down, at most she would’ve told him to watch where he was going. She would never have cursed at him like that. Now she’s dead and can’t defend herself. Everything he’s saying is just his side of the story p>
There were plenty of angry, volatile people in the world, but Mrs. Young had always been careful with her words. She never argued with people. There was no way she would have provoked someone like him.
Winter’s instincts told her this was nothing more than an excuse to try to get a lighter sentence.
She couldn’t let Mrs. Young be killed and then be slandered afterward.
The officer nodded, clearly understanding how she felt. “Mrs. Xander, manslaughter and intentional homicide are treated very differently under the law. We will investigate this thoroughly p>
Chris, the head of the Xander family, had come to the station in person. Even the chief and the department’s top brass had come out to meet him.
+25 Bonus
A whole group stood in front of him, visibly on edge. There was an authority about Chris that seemed almost
inborn.
Winter knew that, out of respect for Chris, they would take this case seriously.
The murder at the morning market had already caused a huge stir. The local news stations would definitely be covering it, and she wanted to report on it herself.
In a steady voice, she said, “I’m a television reporter. This case is especially brutal, and it has already had a serious impact. I’ll be following it from beginning to end. I hope the department will cooperate with my reporting and help bring the truth to light p>
The officer paused for a second. He had nearly forgotten that Mrs. Xander was also a senior reporter on the station’s local news desk.
He straightened and said, “Of course p>
Winter nodded.
The station always kept a few people on duty over the holiday, so she stepped aside and made a call.
Chris stood surrounded by department heads, his expression cool and unreadable. His dark gaze swept over the slender but unyielding figure by the window.
“ Cooperate with her,” he said. “You don’t need to report anything else to me p>
“ Yes, Mr. Xander p>
After finishing the call with the news director, Winter walked back over to Chris. Her eyes were clear and steady, without a trace of hesitation or mixed emotion.
“Mr. Xander, please give me back my press badge p>
The last time, in the elevator, she had clearly stolen it from his coat pocket. But by the time she left the hospital, it was gone again. He had obviously taken it back.
P
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Florence
A passionate storyteller who brings emotions to life through her words. When she’s not writing, she finds peace nurturing her garden.