Mated To My Boyfriend's Dad

Chapter 86: _ Naked Murder

He nodded. If that was how she wanted it, to put up a facade in front of others and act like they didn’t mean a lot to each other, he’d play along.

But not for long.

"Proceed." He said to Jenkins who led them to a bedroom door.

Stepping inside, the scent of blood hit him like hard like a kick in the gut. The room was a shrine to normalcy – floral wallpaper, a half-finished knitting project on a rocking chair, and a framed photo of a smiling mother and daughter on the nightstand. But none of it could mask the monstrosity of tableau on the bed.

Brenda Marie Beasley lay sprawled on the floral sheets, naked. Rhett eyes squinted at that and confusion warred within him.

Why was she without any clothes on?

"Did the killer kill her naked?" He asked.

Jenkins replied with an unsure tone. "Seems so, sir."

"Was it before or after he killed her?" He stroked his beard.

Jenkins moved closer to the bed and pointed at a blood stain on her chest. "Judging from the blood smeared on her breasts, I believe it was before she was killed, sir."

What the heck?

"C– could she have been raped then?" Asked, Rhett.

If she was raped, that would at least lead them to something– that the killer was a male.

"This is getting more insane by the day." Alistair cursed under his breath.

Insane was an understatement; Rhett thought to himself. Imagine killing a grown woman and stripping her naked too.

He continued to study her lifeless body. Her eyes were open. That was a vacant stare that would forever be etched on her face. Her pallid skin was devoid of any healthy flush.

However, unlike the previous victims who were drained completely, there was still a faint trace of blood clinging to her lips. Did Jenkins miss this?

Or why say she was sucked dry?

Tch. He hated incompetencies.

Rhett knelt beside the body, his gloved hand gently brushing aside a stray wisp of silver hair. "This isn’t a typical drain," Alistair muttered behind him, his voice tight.

"It’s similar to that of the deceased teacher. Rhett nodded a reply.

His gaze scanned the bite marks. They were clean, surgical almost, hinting at a professional or at least experienced killer. But unlike the frenzied attacks he’d seen before, the lack of complete blood drainage was a glaring anomaly.

Once again, this seemed to Rhett like a vampire attack. But that didn’t make any sense.

Vampires don’t feed on wolves, yet the victim, Brenda, wasn’t completely drained. It was a confusing inconsistency.

It was way too identical to the dead teacher’s case too except for the naked part. It was almost like he could see the same killer hovering above them.

He rose with his eyes moving to the rest of the room. A broken flower vase lay on the floor near the window, its shards glittering accusingly. The window itself was open a little. Seemed like a clear escape route to him.

"Looks like our killer came in through here," Alistair observed, after following Rhett’s eyes and moving closer to the window.

Rhett scanned the windowsill for any footprints or other traces. He found nothing. He moved on to the rest of the room, searching for any sign of a struggle, a hidden weapon, or anything out of place. But the room remained eerily pristine.

The only evidence of violence is confined to the lifeless body on the bed.

"Or maybe, our killer went out from the window and came through the door." He gesticulated.

It doesn’t make sense that the killer would come in through the window and the woman would remain on the bed without any sign of jolting up and being forced back on the bed.

Alistair tilted his head, going thoughtful and considering his boss’s words. "Does that mean they open the door for the killer?"

"We’ll have to question the only witness to know." Was Rhett’s reply.

This was too clean, too calculated. No signs of forced entry, no struggle marks. They needed someone who knew the victim, someone who could offer some insight. They needed to question the daughter.

"She is the one with the..." Jenkins struggled to say, not knowing what to call Isleen.

Rhett waved his hand. "Time to take her statement."

"I’ll do it, sir." Alistair was about to step forward when Rhett declined.

"I’ll do it."

.

He walked back to the living room. The girl wasn’t wrapped in Isleen’s hands anymore. A soldier was speaking to them, probably asking them to step outside for the investigation to commence without interruptions as the girl’s wails were indeed– loud.

Isleen sensed him the moment he emerged. Her gaze darted towards him and he saw a look in them. One that shouts ’I feel okay and relieved that you are here. I know you will solve this case and protect us all but I don’t want to admit it.’

Isleen was way more into him than even she realized. It was his job to protect her, yes but also to make her see that too. To have her reach that epiphany.

That she trusted and wanted him.

Rhett cleared his throat, forcing himself to maintain a professional demeanor despite the turmoil churning within him.

"Isleen," he began, his voice gentle but firm. "I understand this is a difficult time, but I need to ask her a few questions." He pointed at the young girl beside her – Brenda Marie Beasley’s daughter, he presumed.

However, before Isleen could reply, another figure perched behind her caught his attention. It was Liam. He had the look of a young boy who was disturbed by what he was seeing and hearing as he remained clutched behind Isleen with a fallen face.

He didn’t seem like the talkative little boy that Rhett had formerly encountered. If he was so disturbed, why did he come over here then?

As though it were a reply to his question, unease sparked in his memory. The fleeting figure he’d seen on the wall the night before – the one that had disappeared into Isleen’s window... it came right back to his head while looking at Liam right now.