Chapter 53: Reporting to the Superior (Please follow and add to your favorites!)

“Lydia confessed the truth?” Hearing Roan’s words, Lacey’s face was full of astonishment. She hurriedly swallowed her mouthful of burger and said into the phone with a serious expression, “Roan, you didn’t use force on Lydia, did you? You absolutely can’t do that! If Lydia’s lawyer later requests a medical examination, everything you’ve gotten her to say will be dismissed by the judge!”

“Uh.” Roan glanced back at Lydia, who was sitting on the bed, and his lips twitched. “Don’t worry, I know what I’m doing. I didn’t use force on her… You’d better hurry and give me Veronese’s home address.”

“O…K.” Lacey was silent for a moment. Considering Roan’s performance during the investigation, she chose to trust him. “Veronese’s home isn’t far from here. I can drive you there.”

“OK, call Veronese first, I’ll bring Lydia down right away.”

Lacey nodded. Roan hung up, turned to Lydia, and said seriously, “Lydia, I’ll take you to my superior and have her put you on the primary witness protection list. But only if you didn’t lie to me just now, and you don’t try any tricks on the way to her house, understand?”

“Trust me, Roan.” Lydia’s expression was just as grave, for this concerned her life. When Roan unlocked the stockings around her legs but left the handcuffs on her wrists, Lydia didn’t hesitate—she rushed to the bedside, grabbed a bottle of liquor, and gulped it down. She was nearly dying of thirst.

“Take it easy, Lydia.” Roan pulled a woman’s jacket from the coat rack and draped it over Lydia’s bare shoulders, smiling. “I’d hate for my superior to suspect I was playing a joke on her by bringing a drunk to her door at this hour.”

“Hmph.” Lydia tossed the bottle aside and glared fiercely at Roan. If he didn’t know why she’d drunk so much, then he was just being willfully ignorant. Roan shrugged—how was that his problem? He’d warned her, it wasn’t his fault she didn’t listen.

—

On the way, Roan and Lydia sat in the back seat while Lacey drove. At a red light, the car slowed to a stop. Through the rearview mirror, Lacey spotted the handcuffs on Lydia’s wrists and couldn’t help but twitch. If she wasn’t mistaken, those cuffs looked just like the ones she and her girlfriend used for their bedroom games.

“What’s wrong, Lacey?” Noticing Lacey glancing at her, Roan asked in confusion, “Is there a problem?”

Lydia, who had been lost in thought, also turned her gaze toward Lacey.

You two are the real problem! Lacey took a deep breath, swallowing a barrage of questions, and finally picked up her phone from the front seat and waved it. “It’s nothing. I just wanted to tell you—Veronese didn’t sound very happy when I called her.”

Veronese was indeed in a bad mood. She’d planned to keep Roan’s rejected application to the Foundation under wraps for a while. Once the “Lake Corpse Serial Murder Case” was solved, she’d reapply, and the whole ordeal would quietly blow over without Roan ever knowing. But she hadn’t expected Lacey to call suddenly, saying Roan had something urgent and would be coming over soon… Should she tell him or not? If she did, she’d lose face as his superior, having promised one thing and failed to deliver. If she didn’t, and Roan asked…

In her study, Veronese stared at her notebook with a complicated expression, tangled in her thoughts.

Ding-dong—

The doorbell rang. Startled out of her reverie, Veronese quickly went to the door. Peering through the peephole and seeing Roan and the others, she didn’t hesitate to open up. But the moment she did, her pupils contracted—she suddenly realized she was still wearing her very loose home loungewear.

“Good evening, ma’am.” The door opened, and Roan, seeing Veronese wearing casual clothes and minimal makeup—a far cry from her cold, professional demeanor at work—raised an eyebrow. But his tone remained steady as he pulled Lydia forward and explained, “Sorry to bother you after hours, ma’am, but this is urgent.”

“Come in.” Veronese’s face was expressionless, her voice cool. She gestured for the three to enter and close the door, then headed straight to the bedroom. “Wait in the living room. Coffee’s self-serve.”

“Alright.” Roan and Lydia sat on the sofa, while Lacey went to make coffee. Lydia glanced toward the bedroom, smirked, and leaned in to whisper to Roan, “You like older women?”

“No, I just like them… bigger.”

Roan shot Lydia a look and tossed the jacket that had slipped to the floor back into her arms, covering her enticing décolletage. He said flatly, “Enough, Lydia. Veronese holds your fate in her hands—you’d better make a good impression.”

Hearing this, Lydia’s face fell. She wanted to say more, but Lacey was already back with the coffee. The three of them sat in silence, sipping their drinks.

A few minutes later, Veronese emerged from her bedroom in a fitted suit, her makeup once again impeccable and her demeanor icy. She addressed them directly: “Roan, come to the study. Lacey, keep an eye on our guest.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Roan got up and left the sofa; Lacey plopped down beside Lydia and whispered, “Lydia, could you give me the name and contact info of that new bartender at your bar?”

Lydia: “…”

In the study.

“Sit.” Veronese was terse. After they’d taken their seats, she slid her notebook into a drawer. She hesitated for a few seconds, deciding she’d tell Roan about his rejected Foundation application. But before she could, Roan gazed at her intently and asked, “Ma’am, are you sure our conversation here is absolutely secure?”

Roan didn’t really believe anyone would bug an FBI team leader’s study, but one could never be too careful. Veronese’s expression darkened instantly—not out of annoyance, but because she realized Roan’s urgent business might be even more serious than she’d thought.

“Wait a moment.” Without hesitation, Veronese opened the bottom drawer of her desk and took out a large dark-brown box. She pressed a switch on the box and looked up, her eyes fixed on Roan. “Now you can talk.”

Roan studied her for a moment, cleared his throat, and began, “Here’s the situation, ma’am…”

Leaving out the details of his interrogation of Lydia, Roan recounted the entire story to Veronese, finishing with a grave expression. “Ma’am, this is too big for an agent like me to decide. I have to… I need your help.”