Chapter 113: The Mark of Restraint

“Yes, and the tampering isn’t limited to just one place.”

Upon hearing Mona’s words, Rowan nodded solemnly, then forcefully yanked the seatbelt from the driver’s seat.

“Someone messed with this too.”

Mona glanced at the slightly damaged seatbelt, tilting her head in confusion.

“Could you explain in detail?”

“Evander’s car is equipped with a pre-tensioning safety belt feature. When a collision occurs, the belt tightens within about 0.1 seconds to protect the driver.”

Rowan showed Mona the car’s pre-tensioning device, his expression grave as he said, “But clearly, it didn’t activate when the car hit the tree.”

After hearing Rowan’s explanation, Mona fell silent for a few seconds and swallowed hard.

——

Fifth Investigation Unit Office.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I have bad news!”

August, his large belly prominent, held a file as he stood at the front of the office, his tone serious and loud.

“Thanks to the diligent work of Agents Rowan and Mona, we can now confirm that this car accident was not an accident at all! It was a complex murder disguised as an accident!

I want to know who would go to such lengths to kill an ordinary photojournalist.

Now, everyone get moving. Dig deep into Evander’s life and uncover everything he’s ever done!”

At this point, August paused and turned his gaze to Mona.

“Have you identified the person who stole Evander’s laptop?”

“Not yet.”

Mona shook her head. “They’re very skilled and seem to know the camera setup and how to avoid them.”

“Let’s list this thief as our prime suspect.”

Upon hearing this, August furrowed his brow and then turned his gaze to Rowan, who was seated at his workstation poring over documents.

“Rowan, what are your thoughts?”

“Evander’s accident is rather suspicious.”

Rowan looked up upon hearing his name, raising the documents in his hand.

“I don’t quite understand how the murderer ensured that Evander’s car would malfunction precisely on that forest road and crash into the tree.

So, I suggest we investigate the first people who reported the accident. According to the records, their car was tailing Evander’s, and they witnessed the entire crash.

I believe they might have seen clues the NYPD overlooked.”

“Excellent!”

August’s stern face lit up with satisfaction upon hearing Rowan’s words.

Rowan always found leads and angles—truly a talent he had recognized.

With a wave of his hand, August indicated that Rowan would decide the direction of the investigation moving forward.

However, he still warned Rowan seriously:

“This enemy is no ordinary foe. At critical moments, be sure to prioritize your safety.”

“Understood, sir.”

Rowan smiled broadly upon hearing this.

When entering the armory, he took a few more stun grenades than before.

Racy, who was accompanying him, simply stared.

——

The SUV soon arrived at the outskirts of the neighborhood where the accident reporters lived.

“According to the files, the reporters are a married couple: the husband is an engineer, and the wife is a teacher.”

Racy casually flipped through the documents.

“Looks like a typical middle-class family. They probably just happened upon the accident.”

“Let’s hope so.”

Rowan replied casually, then carefully checked his gear—body armor vest, stun grenades, two Glock 18 pistols with extended magazines—all in order before stepping out.

Knock! Knock! Knock!

“Hello! Anyone home?”

Racy approached and knocked firmly on the door.

After a few seconds, footsteps came, and a male voice called out from inside:

“Who are you?”

“FBI!”

Racy flashed her gold badge.

Seeing the badge, the door opened a few seconds later, revealing a middle-aged white man with slightly reddened eyes.

“Sorry about this.”

The man, named Chance, hastily invited them inside the living room, poured water for Rowan and Racy, then pushed the books aside on the table.

Finally, he sat on the sofa, rubbing his hands nervously as he looked at them.

“What do you want to ask me?”

Rowan frowned upon noticing the man’s polished shoes and work shirt, and the fresh marks around his wrist.

“Don’t worry, Mr. Chance,” Racy raised an eyebrow, then gently asked, “We’re here to ask about the details of the car accident you reported last night, okay?”

“No problem!”

Chance nodded quickly, forcing a faint smile.

“What details do you want to know?”

Just as Racy was about to speak, Rowan suddenly reached out and gently stopped her.

In Racy’s puzzled gaze, Rowan loudly asked:

“Mr. Chance, what were you and your wife doing last night? Why did you come home so late?”

At the same time, Rowan pulled a sheet of paper from a nearby book, scribbled something, and showed it to Chance.

Unaware of the meaning, Racy glanced at Rowan and then at the paper.

It read:

“Mr. Chance, please answer my questions normally, without changing your tone.

Also, if your wife is being coerced, please clasp your hands together; we will do everything possible to rescue her.”

Upon reading Rowan’s note, Racy’s pupils constricted sharply as she instinctively moved her hand toward her pistol.

Chance’s eyes also widened in shock, staring at Rowan.

Seeing Rowan impatiently shake the paper, Chance immediately clasped his hands together and nodded frantically, pointing to the upstairs bedroom with trembling lips.

“My wife and I went to a concert last night, which is why we got home late...”

Racy no longer cared about Chance’s words. She was deeply shaken and eager to ask Rowan how he uncovered this.

But saving lives was paramount, so she drew her pistol and silently asked Rowan:

What’s the next move?

Rowan’s expression turned serious. After a moment’s thought, he continued questioning Chance while writing on the paper:

“Call for backup. Keep asking questions. Don’t show any signs of suspicion. I will find a way upstairs.”

Reading Rowan’s message, Racy took a deep breath and nodded firmly, then turned to soothe Mr. Chance, encouraging him to speak calmly while continuing her inquiries.

At the same time, Racy sent a text message explaining the situation briefly and calling for backup.

Meanwhile, Rowan, fully armed, held his Glock 18 in a ready stance and slowly ascended the stairs.

Without making a sound, he successfully reached the second floor.

There were three bedrooms upstairs, with only the master bedroom door firmly closed.

Since Chance had said his wife was in the master bedroom, Rowan quietly moved to the door.

Standing there, two faint breaths drifted to his ears from inside.

Smiling slightly, Rowan slowly pulled a stun grenade from his pocket.

But the next second…

Bang!

Crash—

Just as Rowan took a deep breath and prepared to act, a loud explosion came from the master bedroom, followed by the sound of shattering glass.

“Fuck!”

Rowan cursed softly, then kicked open the bedroom door and charged inside.

(End of chapter)