Demon Hunter and His Cabin-Chapter 93 - 0 Investigation

Chapter 93 -093 Investigation

“Thank you for your cooperation,”

Roger said with a smile as he bid farewell to Travis’s mother.

“You are Betty’s friend, and that makes you my friend as well,”

the middle-aged woman’s attitude had softened a lot, she even walked Roger to the door.

Upon opening the door, the remnants of the setting sun cast a faint red glow on the edges of the house.

In the distance, a group of people were hurrying towards the depths of the marsh, and for a moment Roger thought he saw a figure in the lead that somewhat resembled Betty.

...

“Are they heading to the marsh so late?”

Roger asked casually.

“It’s a custom here, only at midnight can one hear the ancestors’ summoning and make contact with the spirits.”

Roger didn’t say much else, just greeted her and left.

He drove the car out of the gathering place, as the sun on the horizon gradually disappeared, the surroundings dimming.

Pulling the car aside into a clump of roadside bushes, Roger snapped off some branches to cover it.

After finishing this, he gathered his things and stealthily returned to the gathering place.

There were many things he had not felt comfortable asking about, so he planned to sneak back in and investigate on his own.

Waiting until the sky was completely dark, Roger circled around and slowly approached Travis’s house.

Using tools provided by Henrik, he pried open a second-floor window under the cover of darkness and slipped inside without making a sound.

He moved as quietly as a cat.

A woman’s prayer came from downstairs.

Roger listened carefully, realizing it was a language he had never heard before, the voice rapid and somber.

There were four rooms in total on the second floor, Roger opened one of them, the room’s furniture seemed old but well-maintained, presumably the master bedroom.

Roger moved forward and gently pushed open the opposite room’s door.

The room was dark without lights on, but this did not affect Roger’s sight: a single bed, a desk, a computer.

Clearly, this was Travis’s room. The room must be cleaned regularly, because although Travis had been dead for a while, the room did not seem messy.

Roger closed the room door and quickly searched the room.

Travis was black, and Danielle was white, with the town’s xenophobia, Travis’s mother would never have allowed her son to have a white girl as a girlfriend.

The pages of books, corners of the room, under the bed, drawers, Roger searched meticulously, but unfortunately found nothing.

“No trace left at all?”

Just then, footsteps sounded from the stairs, Roger’s heart skipped a beat, Travis’s room was directly opposite the hallway, he wouldn’t have time to rush out now.

With a swift glance, Roger moved and darted behind the door.

Behind the door was a simple clothes rack, which usually hung full of Travis’s clothes, but now it was empty, there was no place to hide a person.

The footsteps stopped at the doorway.

Roger took a deep breath, ready to flee if Travis’s mother really found him.

This woman had been through a lot, and Roger didn’t want to cause a conflict with her.

“Creak!”

The bedroom door opened.

The woman’s shadow filled the room instantly.

Roger was ready for anything.

But just then, the middle-aged woman took a step forward and closed the bedroom door.

Then the sound of keys jingling followed, and another door beside it opened.

“Bang!”

The door closed shut.

“Locking a door in one’s own house?”

Roger paused for a moment, his ears perked up, but faint talking came through the crack of the door.

Foll𝑜w current novℯls on ƒrēewebnoѵёl.cσm.

“Don’t be afraid, my dear baby…”

“You are already… rest assured…”

Then there was the faint sound of crying.

Roger quietly let out a sigh of relief.

It was only then that the middle-aged woman showed the emotions that a mother who had lost her son should have.

Click.

Roger was about to emerge from the corner when he accidentally kicked the corner of a cabinet with the tip of his foot.

A light noise followed.

The block of wood at the corner of the cabinet popped out, revealing a palm-sized gap.

A rush of excitement filled his heart.

Roger bent down and fetched an iron box from the gap.

Upon opening the iron box, there were several photos on top.

Roger recognized the girl in the photos at a glance.

Danielle.

The photos didn’t feature overly indecent imagery, but Danielle’s attire was extremely revealing, and her eyes seemed ready to dribble water, intently staring at the person outside the photo frame.

“This woman…”

The situation was clear, Danielle was either the mastermind or an accomplice, either way, her connection to the deaths of Travis and Judd couldn’t be denied.

As he took out a few photos, what lay underneath caused Roger to pause.

It was a strand of black… hair?

Thinking of what Travis had done with this clump of hair and the photos, Roger felt a chill.

Shaking his head slightly, Roger then eerily found that the air was filled with a strange scent.

His heart rate inexplicably sped up, and his expression suddenly changed.

“Does this contain hallucinogenic substances?”

He replaced the photos, closed the iron box, and the strange scent in the air gradually dissipated.

“What on earth is this woman doing?”

Securing the iron box, he quietly opened the door and stepped out into the silent hallway. Just as Roger was about to leave through the door, a piercing ring of a telephone came from downstairs.

Travis’s mother pushed the door open and headed downstairs; Roger glanced at the slightly ajar room not far away.

There seemed to be some things missing from Travis’s room, likely taken by his mother; there might be more clues there.

Roger hesitated for a moment but then gave up the idea, as she might return upstairs at any moment.

However, the middle-aged woman who finished the phone call didn’t return upstairs but instead put on her clothes, pushed open the door, and left.

Roger’s face lit up with joy; this was a golden opportunity. He quickly emerged from the room and then pushed open the opposite door.

The room opposite was much larger than Travis’s, filled with a strong scent of herbs.

The room was lined with a circle of white candles.

The flickering candlelight cast an illusory glow over the room.

To prevent his shadow from being cast onto the window and noticed by others, Roger quietly bent down.

In the instant he bent over, a glimpse at the corner of his eye caught sight of a person lying on a rocking chair in the depths of the room!

A chill shot up to the top of his head, and Roger instinctively tightened his grip on the dagger; in such a cramped space, a dagger was more effective than a longsword.

Despite the dim candlelight, Roger could still make out the person’s face.

The black skin, now pale from death, was twisted, but the visage could still be identified as it had been in life.

That was Travis.

Travis, who had been dead for at least a month!