Chapter 2
By noon, the department had efficiently cleared the construction crew.
The site had been inactive during the time of death, and every worker had a solid alibi.
With no surveillance footage from the desolate location, the investigation circled back to its core: identifying the body.
The city-wide bulletin went out, offering a reward while we waited for missing persons reports to trickle in and the slow, meticulous DNA analysis to run its course.
Emerging from the interview rooms, Ryan caught up to Alex in the hallway.
"Captain Quinn, odd not to see Officer Summers assigned to this one. She's the best forensic liaison we've got. Even when she's under the weather, she usually pushes through for a major case," he ventured, curiosity threading his tone.
Alex's jaw tightened, a visible ripple of irritation.
He snapped, the words clipped, "This is my case. Why bring up Claire? If she's not here, it's the same old story—playing up some minor ailment for sympathy.
"She's manipulative. Skilled, maybe, but that just makes her more dangerous. She shouldn't even be wearing the badge."
Ryan frowned, a flicker of loyalty surfacing. "That's harsh, Captain Quinn. She's still your fiancée."
The word "fiancée" acted like a trigger. Alex whirled, his control snapping. "I don't have a fiancée!
"Or have you forgotten? If it weren't for her, Mr. Frost wouldn't be lying in a hospital bed for three years! Emily wouldn't be shattered, living in fear! He treated Claire like his own daughter, and this is how she repaid him!
"If Mr. Frost hadn't made me promise to look after her before he slipped into that coma, I would've cut her off ages ago! I wish I'd never met her, and I swear I never want to see her again!"
Alex's outburst drew a crowd, and my heart felt like it was being squeezed in a fist, the pain almost unbearable.
I knew it. For three years, Alex's hatred for me had never faded. No matter how many times I tried to explain, he was convinced I was the one to blame.
My adoptive father, Henry Frost, was a veteran cop at the city bureau and Alex's mentor.
Back then, Alex broke off his engagement with the richest family in town—the Summers—and was dead set on getting engaged to me as soon as I graduated from the police academy.
But three years ago, a case exposed a baby swap at the hospital, and overnight, I became the real Summers heiress, while Emily turned out to be Henry's biological daughter.
Some vicious kidnappers tried to snatch the Summers heiress for ransom, and Henry got seriously hurt fighting them off, ending up in a coma.
And Alex was dead sure I'd helped kidnap Emily out of jealousy. All he had was an unclear, ambiguous recording that Emily handed over.
For three years, I'd been nothing but a walking shell.
Henry, the man who cared about me most, was stuck in a hospital bed, while my real parents just called me a curse.
My fiancé hated me to the core. When I got shot in the chest, he didn't even bother to ask if I was okay. But for Emily, who was just shaken up, he'd do anything—always there for her, no questions asked.
Watching Alex's chest rise and fall with anger, I wanted so badly to reach out and smooth the frown from his face, just like I used to. But my hand only got halfway before I let it drop, feeling small.
Alex swore he'd always protect me, but now he didn't hold back, throwing every cruel word he had at me.
He said he never wanted to see me again. Well, I was dead now. Was this enough? Happy now?