Becoming Strangers Again by Lily

RYAN

Since we were already in New York, I figured it was the perfect opportunity to speak to the detective in person about the case. I hadn't had much direct conversation with him on this matter, and today felt like the right day to finally get it done.

I offered to bring Lily along, but she declined. She said she wanted to take the chance to sit down with Mum and discuss what had happened the last time they were together. She wanted to smooth things out, which I thought was a great idea. I genuinely hoped they could work things out and go back to how things used to be between them.

After arriving at the detective's office, I parked and headed straight in. Since he knew I was coming, I didn't have to go through the usual protocol at the front desk. I walked directly to his door, knocked, and, hearing his voice inviting me in, pushed it open and stepped inside.

"Welcome, Mr. Williams," he greeted, gesturing toward the cream-colored sofa. I took a seat, grateful for the informal welcome.

"Any progress on the case?" I asked, eager to hear if there was any new development.

Instead of answering right away, he picked up the phone, called his secretary, and requested two coffees. Then, he walked over to the sofa and settled down beside me.

"No major progress, unfortunately," he responded with a heavy sigh, crossing one leg over the other and settling back into his chair. "I've been able to speak to a few people connected to your father, including his secretary, and what I can tell you so far is that he left the office early on that particular day. He made the unusual decision to dismiss his security team, insisting on driving himself instead of using the usual car and driver."

I frowned, feeling a prickling unease at this information. "Drove himself? But to where exactly?"

He shook his head slowly, clearly just as puzzled as I was. "That's the mystery. We don't know yet where he went after leaving the office. Unfortunately, the CCTV footage from his usual routes and nearby locations hasn't provided any clues. The cameras didn't catch much, so we're left with more questions than answers at this point. But I did reach out to your mother a few days ago. She was kind enough to give me access to the CCTV footage from your parents' house. I went through it, and it seems your father returned home around three in the afternoon on that day. But here's the curious part-he left his office at around one."

The timelines are not quite adding up in my mind. "Wait, that would mean it took him two hours to get home, right? Normally, it shouldn't take anywhere near that long."

He nodded. "Exactly. The drive should have been much quicker, under typical circumstances. That two-hour gap suggests he made a stop somewhere along the way. And based on what we know so far, that stop might have been where he was poisoned."

I ran a hand over my face, struggling to process it all, wondering where on earth my father could have gone during that gap of time. My mind raced, trying to imagine every possible location or person he might have visited. "Have you questioned all the security personnel who were on duty that day?"

He nodded. "They all insisted they went home immediately after he dismissed them." I could tell he was feeling just as frustrated as I was. "They claimed no one would ever consider going against your father's instructions. When he told them to go, they left-no questions asked."

I rose to my feet, straightening my suit as I prepared to leave. "Take all the time you need with this case," I instructed. He stood as well, mirroring my actions. "Just understand

understand that," he agreed. "And I have no intention of closing it until the killer is

was about to walk out

like someone who came here for coffee?" I didn't come here to drink coffee and make small talk; I came here

sure you find the killer," I said, my voice hard. "So

detective said. "And I'm making one to you right now: I

nod, I turned and walked out of his

************

hardly aware of my surroundings, until I felt a hand grab my wrist, pulling me back into the present. Blinking,

I gave her a nod. "Just... lost in thought about the case," I said, trying to offer a reassuring smile. I leaned down and pressed a

head toward the stairs. "She's asleep

talk things through with her?" I asked, curious

we talked. It

as hoped, but it

get some things out in the open." She reached out, intertwining her fingers with mine, and gently guided me toward the sofa in the living room. "How about you? Tell me what exactly you discussed with

detective."

into it when my phone vibrated in my pocket. Pulling it out, I saw that the family lawyer was calling, which was unusual, especially since we'd already finished the will reading. With a quick look of apology to

asked. Calls from him typically didn't happen

fine. I was just working alone in my office this evening, and

thought came to

my pulse quicken. "Can you just get to the point?" I said, more sharply than intended. "If you have information that could help

new will he had written.

that unsigned document? Why had he written a new will but