In still waters - стр. 8

Jeffrey's gaze had grown distant, his mind struggling to process the horrific details of his daughter's final moments.

"Jeffrey, are you with me?" Nick pressed gently. "This is crucial information. I need you to try and remember – was there anything unusual about Rose's behavior recently? Did anything happen that stood out? Was she being threatened or stalked by anyone?"

"I don't remember anything like that," Jeffrey replied, his voice monotone, his eyes still unfocused.

"What about you, Jeffrey? Have you had any recent conflicts? Is there anyone who might wish harm on you or your loved ones?"

This question seemed to rouse Jeffrey from his stupor. He blinked, scratched at the bald spot on the back of his head, and bit his lip in thought.

"No, that's out of the question," he drawled, though a note of doubt crept into his voice. "I'm a decent person. I don't have enemies."

"Are you certain?" Nick pressed, his eyes narrowing slightly as he twirled a ballpoint pen between his fingers. "Maybe there's something you've forgotten? Even a small detail could be important."

"I'm sure," Jeffrey insisted, meeting Nick's gaze with a serious expression that betrayed no hint of deception.

"Alright," Nick conceded with a small sigh. "If you remember anything or learn any new information, call me immediately. For now, we'll be questioning those who were in the vicinity of the murder site."

As Jeffrey left, his shoulders slumped under the weight of grief and unanswered questions, Nick found himself battling a growing sense of unease. He waited for Christian's return, and together, they set out to search for witnesses, hoping against hope that someone, somewhere, had seen something that could shed light on this brutal crime.

An hour later, Nick and Christian found themselves canvassing the neighborhood surrounding the crime scene. They moved methodically, knocking on doors, questioning homeowners and passersby. But with each conversation, their frustration grew. No one seemed to have seen or heard anything unusual on that fateful evening. The night's secrets remained stubbornly hidden.

As they neared the end of their route, the detectives' eyes fell upon the Green Vault bar. It stood just a stone's throw from where Rose's body had been discovered. Perhaps here, they thought, they might finally find a witness. From the outside, the establishment was unremarkable – a dark facade devoid of windows, with only a bright green neon sign above the door to announce its presence.

Stepping inside, Nick and Christian were immediately struck by the bar's gloomy atmosphere. The air was thick and stuffy, carrying the lingering scents of stale beer and fried food. The green walls, clearly an attempt at creating ambiance, seemed to cheapen the interior instead. Dim lights cast long shadows, their weak glow barely illuminating the dark brown, round wooden tables and chairs scattered throughout the space.