She had not yet seen the body, because the officers advised her not to, fearing the scene was too gruesome and would traumatize her. After hearing the police describe the wounds, she was already on the verge of losing her mind.

“Give me back my son’s life!” Lucy Sanders lashed out at the police, “You must catch the person responsible—my son can’t die such a horrible death!”

The officer’s uniform was half hanging off him, a deep red mark already visible on his neck from the collar, his face flushed red. He didn’t dare use force against her and could only try to reason patiently: “We will find the murderer, ma’am, please try to calm down.”

Lucy Sanders screamed hoarsely, “How can I calm down? Didn’t you see my son was hacked to pieces? Folks, neighbors, please judge for yourselves—my son was chopped up! Who could stay calm? He was my own flesh and blood, I feel like I’m dying! I wish it were me instead—damn that Nancy Dawson, ah—!”

Her shouting turned into heartbroken sobs, her hands still clutching the officer’s clothes, refusing to let him go.

The Vault raised the police cordon and walked in, not expecting Julian Grant to follow right behind her.

Catching sight of her daughter-in-law out of the corner of her eye, Lucy Sanders paused her crying, her expression turning vicious. She no longer accused Nancy Dawson of being the murderer, instead turning all her fury toward Julia Campbell.

“Was it her? Was it her who killed my son? Officer, I’m telling you, it must be her. My son was a good man, but she wished for his death every day. Not long ago, they had a huge fight. Pah! She’s a nobody, tricked her way into our family, and my son couldn’t even divorce her. It must be her. Officer, I accuse her!”

The officer said, “We’re still investigating. Please go rest for a while. If we have any results, we’ll let you know immediately, all right?”

Lucy Sanders wouldn’t listen at all: “My son was only in his thirties, still so young, and now he’s gone—how is this old woman supposed to live? Arrest her now, it’s her!”

Julian Grant watched her tantrum coldly.

The Vault spoke up: “Whether or not it was her will be determined by evidence. I don’t recommend you make public accusations of murder without proof.”

Seeing The Vault step in, the officer called out as if seeing a savior: “Boss, what should we do? Maybe you could handle the victim’s family?”

Hearing that a higher-ranking officer was present, Lucy Sanders immediately let go and rushed toward The Vault.

The Vault quickly grabbed her hands to prevent her from bumping into her, saying, “I understand your grief, but if you get too emotional, it will only slow down our investigation. If you have any clues, please go with our colleague to give a statement. We also want to catch the real culprit as soon as possible. Please cooperate.”

Lucy Sanders sobbed, her voice trembling.

Seeing her calm down, Julian Grant added fuel to the fire: “If there’s nothing else, I’ll be leaving. I have an appointment with my lawyer and other matters to attend to.”

Lucy Sanders shot her a vicious glare, snorting through her nose, the sound of her back teeth grinding audibly.

The Vault said, “Wait a moment.”

She asked her colleague, “Has Julia Campbell’s alibi been verified?”

A female voice came through the radio: “I just contacted the friend Julia Campbell mentioned, and also the property management at that complex. They confirmed what Julia Campbell said. Around 1 a.m., her car entered the complex, and both the license plate and her face were clearly captured. Since it was so late, the security guard also remembered her. Based on the distance and Michael Wood’s time of death, it’s impossible for her to be the killer.”

The Vault: “Okay.”

The Vault then said to Julian Grant, “You may go. But please keep your phone on—we may need to contact you at any time.”

Julian Grant nodded, then turned around and, with a provocative curl of her lips at Lucy Sanders, sent the already unstable Mrs. Zhou into a frenzy before leaving with an air of indifference.

The Vault: “……” Was this man always like this? Did he always enjoy stirring things up?

Seeing her really leave, Lucy Sanders threw herself to the ground, wailing relentlessly. Soon after, she got up, saying she would contact the media and expose them.

The young officer, inexperienced and never having faced such a scene, felt his eyes burn with tears, so anxious he nearly wanted to kneel before her.

“Just try to calm her down and make sure she doesn’t disturb the evidence at the scene. She can take photos if she wants, but close the door.” The Vault patted the poor young officer on the shoulder, ignoring his pained expression, and said to everyone, “The rest of you, if you’re free, come over for a meeting. If not, report your canvassing results.”

Five minutes later, The Vault was back in the cramped car, listening to her colleagues report over the radio.

“We interviewed nearby residents, and they had a pretty good impression of Michael Wood. They thought he was gentle, polite, and easy to talk to. After all, he worked in influencer marketing and always paid attention to his image. No one had heard of him offending anyone. Last night, the two neighboring households said they didn’t hear anything suspicious. We also checked some residents’ alibis, but since it was late at night, most people were asleep, so there’s no clear evidence.”

“I think Julia Campbell is very suspicious—she probably has the strongest motive. But she was too calm. When I questioned her, she didn’t hide her hatred for Michael Wood and his mother at all. Most people would try to cover that up.”

“But she doesn’t have the time window to commit the crime.”

“With a mother-in-law like that, it’s hard to hide anything. Maybe it’s better to be straightforward.”

“Could she have hired someone? There were no signs of forced entry. Either the killer had a key, or Michael Wood opened the door himself.”

“The surveillance was turned off by Michael Wood himself. Why would he suddenly turn off the cameras?”

The Vault asked, “What about the complex’s surveillance?”

“The security guard on duty last night fell asleep and didn’t see anything. But according to the footage, around 1 a.m., a man wearing a hat slipped in through the gate. We don’t know who he was looking for. Visiting at that hour is very suspicious. But both Lucy Sanders and Julia Campbell saw the photo and said they didn’t know him.”

They were somewhat relieved that Michael Wood died late at night, when there were few people coming and going, making it easier to check the surveillance footage. Any odd details would stand out clearly.

The Vault asked, “Did you compare the photos?”

“Unfortunately, the cameras didn’t catch his face.”

“Sigh…”

“He probably drove here. We’re contacting the traffic bureau to get footage from nearby streets. Maybe we’ll find something.”

“My eyes are going blind again.”

The Vault said, “Send me the screenshot.”

Soon, The Vault received a screenshot of the man on her phone.

The photo was taken from behind.

The man was very thin. Although his face was hidden by a baseball cap, his build and the way he walked were distinctive. Anyone who knew him could probably guess who he was just from his back.

The Vault immediately forwarded the photo to Julian Grant.

Julian Grant quickly replied: Don’t know him.

The Vault: I suggest you tell the truth. Even though this camera didn’t catch his face, there are street cameras nearby. We’ll find out sooner or later. But if we discover that you knew and pretended not to, hindering the investigation, I won’t hesitate to tell Lucy Sanders.

The Vault: I can ask you to come to the station for questioning, and have Lucy Sanders come too.

The Vault: Think carefully.

What a vicious threat!

Julian Grant could hardly believe this was the same person who had been comforting him just twenty minutes ago.

So fake.

So heartless.

Julian Grant: Ethan Ford, a private detective. I thought Michael Wood was acting strange—he often smelled of different perfumes—so I asked him to investigate.

The Vault: Phone number, company address.

Julian Grant compiled the information and sent it over, rather unwillingly.

The Vault: Thank you for your cooperation. Have a nice day.

Julian Grant spat fiercely.

Shameless.

The Vault passed the detective’s information to her colleagues, and the radio channel immediately filled with excited voices.

“No way, that fast? Boss, how did you know? Did you know him before?”

“Boss, you’re amazing!”

“So we don’t have to check the surveillance anymore? Captain, you really are my idol!”

The Vault replied modestly, “Oh, not at all, just well-connected.”

Everyone continued to flatter her. The Vault sent a few team members to bring Ethan Ford in for questioning.

·

An hour later, The Vault sat in the brightly lit interrogation room, facing the private detective who was forcing an awkward smile at her.

Chapter 33: Speculation

When the police caught Ethan Ford, he was lying in bed, completely unaware of everything. Even after arriving at the interrogation room, he still hadn’t recovered from the shock.