Chapter 972:
His gaze drifted briefly to Carter’s attire before he added, pointedly, “You weren’t supposed to have any official duties today. Where have you been, Mr. Norris?”
Carter’s black suit mirrored the mourning dress Rhoda had worn, her hands still clutching those white flowers in Brad’s memory.
His voice was calm, but it carried the weight of something deeply personal. “Today is the fifth anniversary of my wife’s Rylie kept a steady hold on Rhoda’s wrist, her fingertips carefully feeling for the rhythm beneath the skin. After a moment, she nodded, her tone firm and certain.
“It’s unmistakable. Her pulse pattern confirms it—she’s pregnant. At her age, a shock like this could be life-threatening for both her and the baby. She needs to be taken to the hospital at once.”
Brad responded immediately. “Don’t wait for an ambulance. It’ll take too long,” he ordered the officers sharply. “Get them to the closest hospital right now.”
As the men moved to carry out his command, Rylie turned toward Juan’s lifeless body. Her gaze fell on the phone sealed in the evidence bag, and her brows knit in deep thought.
“Could this have something to do with the pregnancy? Who was he in contact with before this happened? Was he threatened?”
Brad’s expression darkened, his voice low and certain. “For someone terrified of death to take his own life without hesitation, the danger must have been directed at his family.”
Moments later, after Kailee and her mother had been rushed away, the sharp screech of tires echoed from outside.
Rylie glanced toward the window and saw Carter step out of a car, his expression tense and grim. Something in her chest tightened as she watched him approach.
Without acknowledging Brad, Carter walked straight into the restroom. His gaze fell on Juan’s body, and for a long moment, he didn’t move. Sorrow etched deep lines into his face, his emotions a quiet storm beneath the surface.
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Brad and Rylie exchanged a knowing glance, wordlessly realizing who had likely received Juan’s final message.
Carter remained at the doorway, motionless for nearly half a minute, his shoulders heavy with grief that seemed to sink into the very air around him.
When he finally turned, the sorrow shadowing his features hardened into sharp, blistering rage. His voice cut through the air like steel.
“Why did he take his life during your interrogation? I expect a valid explanation.”
Brad’s composure didn’t waver. “The entire process was recorded,” he replied steadily. “He ended his life right after seeing his wife. That’s what I want to understand. Was there something that triggered him?”
His gaze drifted briefly to Carter’s attire before he added, pointedly, “You weren’t supposed to have any official duties today. Where have you been, Mr. Norris?”
Carter’s black suit mirrored the mourning dress Rhoda had worn, her hands still clutching those white flowers in Brad’s memory.
His voice was calm, but it carried the weight of something deeply personal. “Today is the fifth anniversary of my wife’s death. I went to visit her grave. On the way back, I received news that her brother-in-law had taken his own life.”
He paused, his stare locking onto Brad’s. “So tell me—are you implying that I’m involved? Me?”
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