The Fake Heiress and Her Purrfect Partner novel Chapter 117

Chapter 117

The Misty River winds its way through Jelasburg. People had built a scenic walkway along the riverbanks.

But progress was slow, and the path was still half-finished. Things like surveillance cameras and other facilities hadn’t been fully set up yet. Even so, people from nearby neighborhoods still liked to come down to the river for strolls or morning

workouts.

Early that morning, a crowd had gathered to watch. They were kept back by police tape, straining forward like giraffes to catch a glimpse.

The tape cordoned off a section of the riverbank, where a bloated corpse lay swollen from the water. From the size and facial features, the person appeared to be an elderly man.

The medical examiner was busy with the autopsy while forensic techs combed the area for evidence. Simon and the other first-responding officers were waiting for ME’s initial report.

When Alex arrived, he started barking out orders right away. “Clark, reach out to the victim’s family. Williams, pull up surveillance footage. And Simon…”

the

He paused for a split second, like he’d just remembered Simon was even there. “You take care of crowd control. Don’t let the gawkers mess with our investigation.”

Simon nodded, then strode over to the police tape. He was cool and collected, not the least bit bothered.

Alex’s frown deepened as he observed Simon’s indifferent reaction.

By the police tape, Simon stood upright and looked every bit the heroic officer. His uniform only made that impression

stronger.

As soon as he took his place, a few of the neighborhood ladies perked up and drifted right over. “Oh wow, this young cop is a real looker.”

The lady in a bright floral shirt eyed Simon with delight. “My niece works at the bank. Should I set you two up?”

Simon was scribbling down notes when he looked up. “Madam, my job has me burning the midnight oil and camping out at crime scenes half the week. If I tried to go on a blind date, the girl would probably get mad at me.”

The ladies cracked up. The floral-shirted one wasn’t ready to admit defeat. “Nowadays, girls want someone reliable.”

Simon’s smile lingered as he snapped his notebook shut with his long fingers. “Speaking of responsibility, I actually wanted to ask you ladies something.”

He lowered his voice, shooting a glance toward the police tape. “Is it true that the gentleman over there was an archaeology professor?”

The curly-haired lady perked right up and leaned closer. “That’s right. Professor Jagger was pretty famous around here. He even went on a TV archaeology show a couple of years back.”

She dropped her voice, sounding a little secretive. “Poor guy got saddled with a grandson who’s nothing but trouble.”

Simon raised his eyebrows, playing up his confusion. “So, the professor and his grandson didn’t get along?”

“Not just ‘not get along,” The lady in sandals couldn’t wait to jump in. “Three nights ago, they were shouting so loud we all heard them. When that kid stormed out and slammed the door.”

Simon’s eyes lit up with curiosity as he quickly jotted down a few notes in his notebook. He asked, “Professor Jagger’s such a well-known scholar. What could his grandson possibly be fighting with him about?”

The floral-shirted lady leaned in mysteriously, lowering her voice. “You know the saying. He’s got top students everywhere, but his own family’s a whole different story.

“That grandson of his never cared about studying, dropped out back in middle school, and now he just runs around with a sketchy crowd.

“He spends all his time on those hip-hop dance competitions, always off at rehearsals or practice sessions. What kind of future does that have, really?”

Simon kept his cool, probing a little further. “Any idea where Professor Jagger’s grandson likes to hang out? Maybe where he and his crew go to practice those dance moves?”

The lady in the floral shirt didn’t hesitate. “Right across the river, that old abandoned factory. Those kids are always over there, busting moves and making such a racket. It drives everyone around here up the wall.”

Just then, Alex caught wind of the commotion and shot a cold glance at Simon, who was still scribbling away. His voice dripped with disdain. “Mr. Reed, I told you to keep the crowd under control. What are you doing, chatting it up over here?”

Once Alex walked off to check on the body, the floral-shirted lady couldn’t help but mutter, “That boss of yours sure has a short fuse.”

Simon calmly closed his notebook and gave the ladies an apologetic smile. “Thanks for your help, ladies.”