Bride Behind the Mask novel Chapter 663

Detective Smith's analysis was compelling, every word solid and convincing.

And Marguerite finally understood, her mind racing as she asked, "So what you're saying is, Penelope's car accident, the one that seemed so out of the blue, might have something to do with what she was about to tell me?"

"Exactly."

With the detective's confirmation, waves of guilt started crashing over Marguerite. When Penelope had called her, Marguerite had sensed something off. Why would her usually gentle friend suddenly shout over the phone? Despite the static and choppy reception, Marguerite could still hear the desperation in Penelope's voice. At the time, Marguerite thought Penelope was just anxious because they couldn't hear each other well. But it was more than that, wasn't it? What was it that Penelope had wanted to tell her? Who would be threatened by it? Marguerite didn't know. But at that moment, her heart ached like never before. If only she had been more attentive, could the tragedy have been averted?

Detective Smith, having talked herself dry, took a sip of water and continued to explain, "The outskirts, where the accident happened, are pretty isolated, with little traffic and unfortunately, no surveillance cameras. So, we don't have the specifics of the incident, just theories. But you and Penelope were on the phone for a full minute; she definitely said more than just a few words. Luckily, we have both your phones here. We're going to try to recover the call recording, see if she left any crucial clues."

After explaining, the detective locked eyes with Marguerite, her empathy palpable. She reached out, giving Marguerite's shoulder a comforting squeeze, and said, "Marguerite, I can only imagine what you're going through, but trust in our expertise. We'll uncover the truth for Penelope. However, I'd ask you to keep this from the Fitzgerald family for now. They've been quite agitated since losing one of their own. If they learn there's more to Penelope's death, they might interfere with our investigation. Here's my card; it has my contact info. If anything out of the ordinary comes to mind, don't hesitate to reach out."

Marguerite took the card absently, her eyes first landing on the name: Abbey. Detective Abbey Caldwell. With a weak smile, Marguerite nodded earnestly. "Thank you, Detective Caldwell, Ms. Abbey, I appreciate it."

Leaving the station, Marguerite immediately spotted Frederick. He was wearing a simple black suit, hands in his pockets, waiting for her. His broad shoulders seemed to promise safety, making the heartbroken Marguerite yearn for his embrace. Overwhelmed by grief and fatigue, she let go of all reservations and ran towards him, burying her face in his comforting embrace.

"Frederick, I'm so exhausted… truly exhausted…"