Chapter 698:
Rylie smiled. “Yes, he is.”
Before long, the first officer returned and told her, “That girl suffers from mental illness. Her husband took her home this afternoon. Here are the records. The headman instructed us to let you check them whenever you need.”
She opened the record book. The questions were standard — address, family contacts, cause of conflict, and resolution.
She committed the address to memory, closed the book, and walked out with Brad.
Once they settled in the car, Rylie said, “The headman is quite clever. He even expected me to investigate.”
Brad chuckled, his voice low as he pinched her cheek. “Maybe not. Remember, he’s always thought you’re just a spoiled girl with no brains. I doubt he ordered them to show you those records. Besides, that disabled man looked familiar.”
Her brows lifted. “Familiar? You’ve seen him before?”
Brad nodded. “His eyes and brows match those of the husband of that trafficked woman. I was a scout once, trained to track people. Families often share traits. I recognized it at a glance.”
Her mind raced as he pulled back his hand, opened the armrest, and pressed a piece of chocolate against her lips. “Take this.”
Without thinking, Rylie parted her mouth. His long fingers slipped the chocolate inside, brushing her tongue and leaving behind a trace of warmth.
His gaze lingered on the spot her lips had touched, desire flickering in his eyes. In the dark interior of the car, he felt a sudden urge to kiss her deeply.
She bit into the chocolate and heard him murmur, “Sweet?”
She nodded. “If your guess is right, that woman will come to me again tomorrow. She isn’t a trafficked student, and she isn’t tied to Patrick. She answers to someone else. But why?”
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Brad replied, “To dodge Patrick. She may be Laurel’s spy. And to kill you quietly.”
“Who would want that?”
After a pause, her lips curved with a playful smile. “I’ll play along with their game.”
Deep down, both of them already knew who the mastermind was.
The next day, Rylie inspected the Malvren Dyeing Factory, where every stage of production ran with strict efficiency. Workers in uniform managed the machinery with practiced precision, leaving no room for error.
When she and Brad left the grounds in search of a meal, faint cries for mercy carried from a nearby alley.
Rylie followed the sound and caught sight of the same young woman who had claimed to be a university student the day before. Her husband struck her hard across the face, then slung her over his shoulder and disappeared without a trace.
Brad gave a short, dismissive laugh. “How amusing.”
Rylie turned to him, her expression tightening. “That woman is clearly in danger. We should report this to the sheriff’s office and have the officers investigate immediately.”
Brad’s mouth curved into a faint smirk. “Miss Owen, you’re absolutely right.” He didn’t forget to play the role of a bodyguard.
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