David walked past the people in the crowded police station, rubbed his palms together trying to warm himself up, walked into the room watching Katie drink what was apparently her sixth cup of coffee.
— What do we have here? I got here as fast as I could.
She shook her head, visibly angry. — It's bad David! We picked him up on top of the building opposite Esme's. He's an ex-sniper in the army.
He frowned. — I don't understand what he's a fan of? What does he get out of it?
— Five million dollars. — Kate said, joining her hands in a tower on the table. That's what the principal was going to pay him if it worked, he contacted him through a site on the Deep Web. — I've already questioned him, he doesn't know who he is or why.
David took a deep breath, clenching his jaw, he pulled his chair to sit down and analyzed the facts, she weighed him with a strange look and continued to explain.
— In other words, we are still at square one? Because you know it will take a while to find something on this supposed site, the Dark Web is hard to access, the sites don't have URLs. Usually these sites carry their own numbers for identification on the net. - At least we closed the Samantha case.
— David, didn't you sense my mood?
She snapped, gesturing with her hands. It was just seeing that Katie was tense that vein that jumped on her forehead whenever she was overstressed made itself present on her face. It wasn't enough to plan the wedding with money on the edge yet ,
— He's not the one who killed Samantha least he has an alibi, he was at his niece's ballet performance, which is pathetic can only be — She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down. — In short, yes, we're back to square one.
David ran both hands through his hair, causing some snow to fall from it. What about her husband's statement? — She held out the paper for him to read, he leaned over to take it, reading the statement. — Sebastian Montorini. — he hissed to himself.
— He only said what we already knew, she left at seven for a flight to the Upper east side had gone to meet her friend Cassandra Gonsalves and...
— What? Are you sure?
David remembered the conversation with Penelope where she told him that Cassandra hadn't left the house in years, to visit her you had to go to her, she wouldn't go to anyone. Not because she didn't want to, but because she couldn't.
He blinked a lot, quoting this detail to Katie who died the pen cap of anxiety, their breaths quickened.
— What was the point of making an appointment at that candy store? And not attend? — David spread his hands in the air. She's psychologically ill, she panicked when I left home almost three years ago...
David. Katie said, puffing out her chest and squeezing her eyes shut. — I think we have our first suspect!