SrCuervo
patreon
66
🕑 Added 2025-04-29 06:38:04 +0000 UTCAnatomy of a Killer
Chapter 66 – The Roadside Mystery 7
Sandra panicked when she heard this. She imagined a world of possibilities if she ended up in prison, with snot and tears running down her face.
“Wait! I did it, but it’s not what you think!”
Larry raised his hand to stop the officers’ actions and leaned forward.
He had already read Sandra her rights, so anything she said could be used in court. This was the best possible scenario.
“Then tell me—what are we getting wrong?”
Sandra looked at them with trembling lips and struggled for a long time.
“What’s in that house that made you commit this crime? Speak once and for all, woman.” Larry’s tone grew more aggressive.
“I was only looking for the deeds to my house…”
“Your property certificate?” The old man, a member of the community committee, was stunned.
“When we collectively applied for the house certificates this year, the house was registered under Dina’s father’s name.”
“In that case, what good would the certificate do you?” Larry wasn’t one to mince words, especially since anyone could turn out to be the bad guy.
“Can’t you imagine?! A girl gets married sooner or later! Dina is no different than any other girl, but lately, she was becoming irresponsible with her father, so my husband spent a lot of money on medicine and food. Besides, what’s wrong with wanting something that’s rightfully ours?!”
“I’m not even afraid if Dina’s father comes back. The worst that could happen is that he sues me!” Sandra started shouting in anger.
Why was she now being painted as the villain when she had always been a good aunt to Dina?
Only when she discovered that the very house she had worked for since she got married was under Dina’s father’s name, did she begin to truly hate that family.
Larry looked at the man from the community committee and asked, “Is this true?”
“Well, it makes sense… It turns out the parents of these men owned a large piece of land, so they divided it and gave it to their sons. But when they died, part of the land was sold, and each son kept a section to build their homes.”
“No one knew—not even Dina’s father’s brother… Only he knew he was the owner of those lots.”
“And they only found out when he planned to sell the land to that reconstruction company.” Larry now understood the problem.
Sandra fell silent and lowered her head, acknowledging the truth in Larry’s words.
At that moment, Debra and Angel came down the stairs and shook their heads at Larry.
Larry frowned slightly. Why did Sandra decide to look for the property certificate after Dina disappeared?
Even in the name of justice, everyone knew the woman standing before them wasn’t exactly innocent.
Is Sandra not afraid that Dina might come back to confront her? Or… did she already know something had happened to Dina?
There’s no way Dina would return and cause problems again!
So, is Dina’s death connected to all of this?
And Dina’s father still hasn’t been seen. Could it be that...?
Larry felt that the more he investigated, the more complicated things became.
At that moment, Angel continued his questioning.
“Do you know this man?” Debra showed Sandra a photo of one of the suspects.
“He has a problem with his right leg. You might recognize him—he has a workshop near the highway.”
Sandra didn’t respond, but the elderly committee member nodded and said, “He has a private workshop nearby, although he works where you mentioned.”
Sandra said nothing, but her whole body clearly trembled.
Larry discreetly handed a small piece of paper to Angel. On it were only three firmly written words: “Pull her out.”
Angel read it silently, then calmly folded the paper and motioned authoritatively to the others.
“Debra, take Sandra back to the station. We need her ‘help’ with the investigation,” Angel ordered, his tone cold—he knew they were close to identifying the killer.
Several people stood immediately. Debra, accompanied by three criminal officers, escorted Sandra out of the area. Though she struggled and screamed, she had already lost all determination. Her pleas were drowned in the tension of the moment.
“Don’t arrest me! I didn’t do anything wrong! I swear!” Sandra sobbed, her voice cracked with fear.
Meanwhile, Dante emerged from the house, his expression grim. He looked around sharply and said in a low voice, “Dina was kidnapped as soon as she got home. She was dragged to the crime scene. What worries me is that her father witnessed it and is now making things harder for us.”
Angel frowned. That possibility was deeply concerning. “Was it that serious?”
“Have the officers search along the route—for blood trails, the murder weapon, clothes, or anything related.” Dante ordered with urgency in his voice.
Angel nodded and decisively led the second team toward the vehicles. Within seconds, several patrol cars roared to life and headed for the highway exit, their sirens off so as not to alert anyone.
This time, Larry didn’t rush into the green zone west of the ramp. His instincts told him to move cautiously from the outskirts.
Sergeant Doakes, who had received a tip that something important might be found, was following his own line of investigation, though he soon joined Larry’s trail.
When they reached the area where Dina had supposedly been dragged, Larry stopped, scanning the environment with trained eyes.
The guardrail wasn’t far—barely seven or eight meters from the lower green zone. It stood less than a meter high, but farther along the slope steepened abruptly to a meter and a half, making it difficult to cross.
A single surveillance camera watched the scene from behind—silent, motionless.
Given all these clues, Larry pondered: “The locals knew about that camera. They also knew it was a partial blind spot, and it wouldn’t be surprising if some used that secluded area for… other purposes. But there was only one visible entrance. What if there was a hidden exit?”
As Larry pieced his thoughts together, Angel gave precise orders to the officers. “Search for tools, pipes, sticks, traces of blood.”
“The killer stabbed the victim, so he must’ve been covered in blood when fleeing. If you find anything like a hammer or a screwdriver, it could be the murder weapon.”
Larry turned at that moment, a spark of realization in his eyes.
“Also,” Larry added quietly, “check for alternative exits in this green zone.”
A few minutes later, Masuka distributed gloves and masks among the investigators.
“There are four of us in charge. Each one will lead a small group. We’ll search every inch.”
Searching outdoors in this thick, hot, humid weather was grueling work—especially in the green area by the ramp, where the air seemed stagnant and the foliage closed in like a natural trap.
Still, no one complained. Those following Larry knew that when he pointed to a location, there were solid reasons for it.
Larry’s reputation as a forensic expert and criminal profiler was unquestionable.
The teams scattered, plunging into the dense vegetation. The task seemed simple, but within minutes, sweat blurred their vision and insects attacked relentlessly. Clothes, socks—everything was soaked in sweat, leaving them vulnerable to both the heat and exhaustion.
Every meter, every spot under bushes and piles of dry grass was carefully inspected. Time passed slowly, thick like the air, while tension built with every heartbeat.
Just as Larry began to wonder if his instincts had failed this time, a sharp cry broke the silence.
“Larry, over here!” It was the voice of the Angel, vibrating with excitement.
Larry smiled faintly. He knew that tone—they had found something. Something big.
Without wasting time, he ran toward the call, followed closely by several investigators.
When he reached the southern edge of the greenbelt, he saw Angel and other officers crouched near a guardrail. Beside them was something that stood out: a gap in the green wire fence, barely noticeable.
Larry approached quickly, his heart pounding.
“What did you find?” Larry asked, his voice barely a whisper.
The air felt charged with electricity.
Something hidden in the undergrowth was about to come to light.
