My Anti-hero Fairy System-Chapter 57. Hemridge Globe

"Officer, you must be joking! I haven’t killed anyone," Travis said, his voice shaky as he tried to ignore the judgmental stares from the room. Still dressed in only his briefs, he folded his arms awkwardly across his chest, attempting to preserve some dignity.

"We have witnesses who saw you entering and leaving the scene of the crime," Sheriff Hader said, his tone cutting. "And let me inform you there have been three other women who died in the exact same manner. All strangled with a leather belt and they were last seen with you."

"No, no, no—this can’t be happening," Travis stammered, his face pale. "You’re making a big mistake! Look, I enjoy kinky sex, as much as the next guy, but I’ve never hurt anyone, let alone killed someone."

"Sheriff Hader, my son is not capable of committing such heinous acts," Rudy roared, stepping forward. "He may be a party boy, sure, he likes to have his fun, but a killer? Absolutely not."

Hader shot Rudy an unimpressed look, then glanced briefly at Cara, who stood quietly to the side. "He’ll have the opportunity to prove his innocence in court," the sheriff replied curtly. "But right now, my job is to arrest him and bring him in for questioning."

[This might be exactly what you need to get him away from Farrah.]

’Yeah... and to pave the way for Ashley to take charge. But something feels off,’ Cara thought, her eyes darting to Ashley, who stood stoically in the corner.

[What’s the problem?]

’Travis said he didn’t kill anyone. I didn’t detect any lies.’

[So, he’s innocent?]

’Maybe. But honestly? I don’t care. This still works in my favor.’

Sheriff Hader snapped handcuffs onto Travis’s wrists while reading him his rights. Travis winced and muttered, "These handcuffs are freezing! Did you keep them in a freezer or something?"

Sheriff Hader ignored him.

Arlene stepped forward, her expression a mix of concern and frustration. "Sheriff, couldn’t you at least let him put on some clothes? He’s standing here in nothing but underwear!"

Hader hesitated, his gaze briefly flicking to Arlene before relenting. "Fine," he said, removing the handcuffs. "You have two minutes to put on a shirt and pants."

Travis bolted up the stairs without hesitation. Cara, ever attuned to the room’s undercurrents, caught a flicker of unspoken tension between the sheriff and Arlene. A quick read of Hader’s mind confirmed her suspicion, he’d once had a relationship with Arlene, long before Rudy entered the picture. The lingering feelings were still there between them.

So that’s part of the reason he hates Rudy, Cara thought, piecing it together.

Rudy stepped closer to the sheriff, his voice low but menacing. "I hope you’re damn sure about what you’re doing. Because if my son isn’t the murderer you’re painting him as, you’ll pay dearly for this."

Sheriff Hader met Rudy’s glare head-on. "I’m just doing my job, Mayor Rudy. And you, of all people, should understand that no one, no one is above the law. Not even you."

The tension in the room was palpable. It was clear to everyone that these two men despised each other.

"You keep adding to your list of mistakes, Hader," Rudy sneered. "One of these days, it’s all going to catch up to you."

Hader raised an eyebrow, his tone sharp with mockery. "Is that a threat, Mr. Mayor? I think everyone here heard that, didn’t they?"

The officers standing behind him responded in unison, "We heard him."

"Good," Hader said, a smirk creeping onto his face. "Looks like I’ve got witnesses."

Just then, Travis reappeared at the top of the stairs, now wearing a gray t-shirt and denim pants. He descended quickly, his expression a mixture of defiance and fear.

"Alright, I’m dressed. Happy now?" Travis grumbled.

Hader didn’t respond, snapping the handcuffs back onto his wrists. "It’s still cold!" Travis exclaimed, glaring at the sheriff. "Why is it still cold?"

The officers ignored him, their grip firm as they escorted both Travis and Max out of the house. Rudy stood rooted in place, his face a mask of barely restrained fury as he watched his son being taken away. His fists clenched at his sides, and when he finally spoke, it was to bark orders into his phone, calling every connection he had in a desperate attempt to free Travis.

Cara lingered in the background, her thoughts a mix of calculation and curiosity as she observed the scene unfold. If Travis really is innocent, this will unravel quickly. I just hope whatever the police have on him sticks and he stays there for a long long time.

—-----

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Cara’s taxi pulled up in front of the Hemridge Globe offices, a sleek, modern structure with towering glass walls that reflected the city skyline. Above the entrance, a massive sign spelled out "THE HEMRIDGE GLOBE" in bold letters. Cara stepped out of the cab, taking a moment to admire the minimalist beauty of the building. After paying the driver, who sped off almost instantly, she adjusted her bag and headed toward the revolving glass doors.

Just as she reached the entrance, her phone buzzed in her pocket. Glancing at the screen, she saw Jackie’s name flashing. Sighing, she answered, doing her best to sound frail. "Hello, Jackie."

"Hey," Jackie’s voice came through, tinged with concern and frustration. "I was expecting to see you today—or at least get a response to my texts. Did I do something wrong?"

"I’m so sorry," Cara replied, her voice deliberately weak. "I meant to reply, but I’ve been sick all morning. I’m not feeling well enough to come to work today."

"Wait, really?" Jackie’s tone shifted, filled with worry. "I had no idea! Are you okay? Have you taken anything for it?"

"Don’t worry," Cara said, maintaining her facade. "I’ve taken some medicine, and I’m feeling a bit better now. Just not strong enough to make it to work."

"Oh no! Just rest up, okay? The last thing you need is to push yourself. Do you think you’ll feel better by tomorrow?" Jackie asked, her concern palpable.

"Yes, hopefully," Cara replied.

"Alright, take care of yourself. I’ll see you tomorrow," Jackie said before hanging up.

Cara slipped her phone back into her handbag and pushed through the revolving doors. As soon as she entered the bustling lobby, she felt the weight of every gaze on her. People stopped mid-conversation, their eyes wide as they stared, at first she looked down at her loose fitting flower print gown to see if there were any stains, but there weren’t.

Their hushed whispers filled the air, though Cara didn’t need to hear them to know what they were murmuring about.

She ignored their gawking and approached the reception desk, where a chubby receptionist sat behind the counter.

"I’d like to see Mr. Hernan Diaz, the editor-in-chief," Cara said with calm authority.

The receptionist gawked at her, her jaw practically dropping. "You’re the girl who... came back to life? Wow. It’s hard to believe."

Cara suppressed an exasperated sigh, forcing a polite smile. "Yes, that’s me. Now, is Mr. Diaz in his office?"

"Yes, he’s in," the receptionist said, regaining her composure. "But do you have an appointment?"

"No, I don’t," Cara replied. "But I work here or used to. Just tell him Cara Bolton needs to speak with him about an ongoing investigation."

The receptionist hesitated before picking up the intercom. A moment later, she nodded. "He’ll see you now. His office is on the top floor, to your right."

"Thank you," Cara said, flashing a brief smile before heading to the elevators.

Stepping into the sleek, mirrored elevator, she pressed the button for the top floor. The doors closed, and the elevator began to ascend. Cara leaned back, only to realize someone else was in the elevator, staring intently at her. She turned to get a better look at the young man, his face a mixture of disbelief and excitement.

Before she could react, he stepped forward and threw his arms around her in an enthusiastic hug. "Whoa! You’re really alive!" he exclaimed.

Cara froze, unsure how to respond, her arms hanging awkwardly at her sides. "Uh... yeah, I guess I am," she said, her voice laced with awkwardness.