Chapter 606: Chapter 606: Betraying One’s Conscience
In the middle of the night, Ann Vaughn groggily felt the corner of the clothes in her hand being pulled away, intending to leave. She struggled to open her eyes.
Seeing the blurred, cold silhouette in her view, she asked suspiciously, "What’s wrong?"
"Did I wake you?" Cyrus Hawthorne buttoned the last button on his shirt, bent down, and kissed Ann Vaughn’s smooth forehead, soothingly saying, "I need to go to Lyncroft for something. Keep sleeping."
Ann Vaughn was about to nod in agreement, but her drowsy mind was abruptly cleared by the word "Lyncroft," grabbing Cyrus Hawthorne’s hand forcefully, "Is something wrong with Vera White?"
The only person and matter that could drive Cyrus Hawthorne to Lyncroft late at night must be about Bella Hawthorne, nothing else.
Ann Vaughn suddenly remembered hearing about the artist’s fall at the clinic a few days ago, and Bella Hawthorne’s rushed reaction when she called her, desperate to hang up the phone.
Could it be...
"Is Bella’s English name... Vian?"
Upon hearing this, Cyrus Hawthorne paused slightly, gazing at Ann Vaughn’s nervous expression, seemingly realizing something, gently rubbed her head, "Don’t make that face, it’s nothing serious."
If Ann Vaughn hadn’t been aware of the artist’s fall, she would probably believe his comfort.
"I’ll go to Lyncroft with you!"
...
Three and a half hours later.
Inside the Lyncroft Police Department, the door of the interrogation room closed, and two officers walked out, complaining.
"What’s wrong with young girls nowadays, committing murder without a second thought, not considering their families at all. I think she’ll spend the rest of her life in prison."
"She’s got a stubborn mouth too, with all the evidence and witnesses, she still won’t admit she pushed the person off the building. Once the trial’s over, she won’t have a choice but to plead guilty."
"That artist, encountering such a ruthless agent, is truly unfortunate..."
Before the last sentence was complete, they saw the police chief coming from the elevator, without his usual imposing demeanor, rather, nodding and bowing.
Then they saw a man and a woman coming out of the elevator, the man refined and arrogant, the woman delicately beautiful, quite an eye-catching pair.
"Mr. Hawthorne, it’s rare to see you in Lyncroft, I apologize for not welcoming you properly." The police chief smiled obsequiously, leading them towards the interrogation room, "This way, please."
"Hmm." Cyrus Hawthorne gave a slight nod, his expression indifferent and cool, without any warmth. Only when he saw Bella Hawthorne coming out of the interrogation room did his stern eyes show some fluctuation.
Ann Vaughn also saw Bella Hawthorne, within less than a month, she became so skinny, like a gust of wind could blow her away.
"Brother, sister-in-law..." Bella Hawthorne lifted her pallid face, seeing Ann Vaughn and Cyrus Hawthorne walking towards her.
The string in her mind, tight and taut, suddenly loosened, and she almost collapsed on the spot.
Ann Vaughn hurriedly supported her, comforting her with a hug, whispering, "It’s okay now, we’re here, don’t be afraid."
"Let’s return to the hotel first; leave the rest to your brother." Cyrus Hawthorne gently patted Bella Hawthorne’s back, making a solemn promise.
"Mr. Hawthorne, is there anything else I can assist you with?" The police chief nervously approached to inquire.
Cyrus Hawthorne’s narrow eyes glanced coldly at him, a sudden flash of chill, "Send me the evidence collected at the crime scene of this case and information on the person targeting my sister, and this better be the last time."
"Yes, yes, I’ll have it sent to you immediately! Rest assured, I will strictly rectify the department’s unfavorable practices and ensure no such mistake occurs again!"
The police chief hastily promised, fearing he’d be in trouble if delayed by even a second.
Having such an incident of powerful coercion and suspect confession under duress happen in his department isn’t just one department’s issue, indicating some unwanted forces had already infiltrated.
This malignant influence will bring endless trouble if not eradicated soon.
Cyrus Hawthorne laid it all bare before the police chief, not only as a warning but also to garner favor.
So he wouldn’t neglect Bella Hawthorne’s case, going against his conscience.
After leaving the police department, Cyrus Hawthorne and Ann Vaughn took Bella Hawthorne to the hospital for a check-up before returning to the hotel.
In the top-floor presidential suite.
When Bella Hawthorne was taken by the officers yesterday, she was slapped twice by the artist’s family members.
Though the marks had faded by now, Ann Vaughn still noticed when cleaning her face.
"Why would they still hit her?" Ann Vaughn frowned, taking out a topical ointment from her bag to apply to Bella Hawthorne’s face.
"At the time of the incident, only Riley Sheridan and I were present. There was no footage of a third person entering the room on the surveillance. It’s understandable her family would suspect me," Bella Hawthorne said with a bitter smile.
Riley Sheridan is the name of the artist she managed, a newcomer with little fame in the entertainment industry.
Initially, Ann Vaughn hadn’t asked Bella Hawthorne what happened, fearing it might trigger her. Now that she was willing to open up, she asked for some details.
But Bella Hawthorne herself could barely recall what exactly happened, her memory somewhat fragmented.
"Riley Sheridan wasn’t in a good mood that day and insisted I stay and drink with her. I told her I couldn’t because I had other work, and she half-jokingly said if I didn’t drink, she’d jump off the building..."
"I ended up having a little bit of fruit wine to humor her, but... when I woke up, the balcony window was wide open, and when I went to close it, I saw someone lying below... I, I..."
"I was too scared, so I ran away and tried to hide." Bella Hawthorne’s voice choked up, not even knowing what she was saying.
She hadn’t dared to recall what happened that day, every time she tried, Riley Sheridan’s dead body lying downstairs haunted her like a nightmare.
When Ann Vaughn called, she almost told her, but the words caught in her throat, choosing to conceal instead.
Bella Hawthorne hugged her knees tightly. Despite the heating in the room, she felt a chill throughout her body.
"Wait..." Ann Vaughn felt something was amiss in Bella Hawthorne’s fragmented account.
"Your tolerance for alcohol is good, how could you fall asleep after just some fruit wine? Think back if there was anything unusual about Riley Sheridan that day."
"Unusual?" Bella Hawthorne lifted her head uncertainly, unable to recall anything, "I don’t know..."
Ann Vaughn softened her voice, trying not to press too hard, gently guiding her, "Maybe something out of character for Riley Sheridan, who she was close with, or had issues with, those kinds of things."