Fortunate to Have You This Lifetime-Chapter 980 Recording Testimony_1

The police surged in and subdued the man inside the house.

The man was weak and dizzy, and without any strength to fight back, he was pushed into the police car.

Another officer, while searching the bathroom, found a sharp blade hidden in a towel, and all the fake documents in the buffalo leather tote bag were also seized.

Jane McCain clung to Allen Rivera, crying her eyes out as the suspect was caught; the fear she had desperately suppressed was now completely unleashed! Her emotions totally collapsed!

Allen Rivera couldn’t pull her away.

As a crucial witness, Allen Rivera still needed to question Jane McCain. He dragged the emotionally out-of-control Jane McCain into the car, forcefully pressed her into the seat, buckled her seatbelt, and then placed a pack of tissues on her lap.

The car started and moved through the bustling traffic, stopping and starting again at the traffic lights. frёeweɓηovel_coɱ

Perhaps it was the presence of people around in the busy downtown area that gave Jane McCain a sense of security. She slowly regained her senses, and although tears continued to flow, she finally stopped sobbing uncontrollably.

She silently pulled tissues to wipe her tears, occasionally emitting sobs, and looked pitiable.

Allen Rivera held the steering wheel with both hands and glanced at her, asking, "Do you want to listen to some music? It might help you calm down."

"No, thank you," Jane McCain sniffed, with her eyes red from crying.

Allen Rivera didn’t insist and concentrated on driving.

Considering that Jane McCain’s emotions might still be unstable, after arriving at the police station, Allen Rivera brought in Aria Jackson and had her, along with another female officer, take Jane McCain’s statement.

Having a familiar face around probably helped stabilize her emotions.

When Jane McCain saw Aria Jackson, she indeed seemed to have found a savior, a source of support, and threw herself at her for another bout of grievous weeping!

Aria Jackson was confused: "What’s going on?"

"Her husband might be the Black Rose killer," Allen Rivera said.

Aria Jackson was speechless: "What?!"

"It’s not certain yet. I’m going to interrogate the suspect," said Allen Rivera as he strode inside, waving back at Aria Jackson, "Take her statement, will you? She soaked an entire pack of tissues from my car with her tears."

Aria Jackson felt awkward; consoling girls was not her forte!

After all, there are probably only a few people in this world who wouldn’t fall apart facing a serial killer.

Aria Jackson took Jane McCain to a separate room to take her statement and found out the whole story.

The story from Jane McCain’s side was very clear: after coming home, she found the fake documents and clippings of Black Rose news, then her husband came home holding a bunch of Black Roses and repeatedly urged her to go to the bathroom—all of which made her suspect her husband.

The discovery of the blade in the bathroom confirmed it: Jane McCain’s husband indeed had a murderous intention.

Whether or not he was the Black Rose killer required further investigation.

After Aria Jackson finished questioning, she waited for the results from Allen Rivera’s side.

She waited a good while.

Finally, Allen Rivera emerged, and Aria Jackson couldn’t help asking, "Why did it take so long?"

"He was groggy; I let him sleep for half an hour before starting the interrogation," said Allen Rivera looking towards Jane McCain, "What did you give him?"

Jane McCain, her eyes swollen, hoarsely replied, "Cold medicine, it contains chlorpheniramine maleate, which can cause drowsiness as a side effect..."

It was the only useful thing she could find in the medicine box, and though not enough to knock someone out, the drowsiness could make the person slow to react, giving Jane McCain an extra chance to live.

"You did well," Allen Rivera gently patted Jane McCain’s shoulder, "Go home and rest for now, we will contact you if there are follow-up questions. Do you need me to call you a cab?"

Aria Jackson, seeing how pitiful Jane McCain was, said, "Let me drive you home."

"No need," Jane McCain sniffled, "My mother will come pick me up in a while. Your work is important, make sure he’s locked up in jail."

With those words, her eyes reddened again, as if she was on the verge of crying.

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