Chapter 60: Dany (Please keep reading! Please recommend!)

Dani, six years old this year, is the daughter of Sanderson and Tamara.

After her mother disappeared and was declared dead, Sanderson, her father, stopped sending Dani to school, never took her to see a psychologist, and forbade her from interacting with other children. Instead, he locked her inside the house. Every day, she ate leftovers from the previous night.

“I’ve already called Sanderson. He said he’d be home soon,” Mona’s voice came through the phone.

Roan nodded, replying, “Okay. Get in touch with the New Jersey government’s child protection department, too. There’s a little girl here who needs their help.”

“Understood. I’ll call them right away.”

“Roan!”

Ryder, who had been sitting on the sofa comforting Dani for a while, saw she paid him no mind and continued to sob into her hands. Helpless, Ryder turned his gaze to Roan.

When Roan had carried Dani out of the bedroom earlier, she hadn’t been crying the whole time.

Seeing Ryder’s exasperated look, Roan felt a headache coming on. Communicating with children was his worst skill of all. But given the situation, there was nothing else he could do. He sat down on the sofa, took the toy from Ryder’s hands, drew a deep breath, and started asking Dani about the toy’s model and other details.

Hearing Roan’s questions, the blonde-haired Dani didn’t answer. Instead, she looked up at him for a moment, slowly stopped crying, and then wrapped her arms tightly around Roan’s arm, neither speaking nor letting go.

Ryder: “.....”

Roan: “.....”

A few minutes later, a pickup truck sped toward them from afar, leaving a deep streak of tire marks on the ground. A man with a bushy beard and a flushed, unnatural face rushed out of the driver’s seat, shouting as he ran toward the rectangular house:

“Dani! Are you okay, Dani!”

Seeing Sanderson finally return, Roan was about to stand up when he realized Dani wouldn’t let go of his arm. After a few seconds of silence, Roan scooped her into his arms and quietly watched the shouting Sanderson.

“Who are you?” Sanderson reached out to embrace Dani, but she turned her head away, refusing him. Stunned, Sanderson glared furiously at Roan.

“The FBI again? What do you want from me now? Do you suspect I’m the murderer?”

“Please control yourself, Mr. Sanderson—”

Before Ryder could finish, Sanderson turned and bellowed at him:

“F*** YOU!

I remember you! Agent Ryder from the FBI! You already asked me a lot of questions here last time. Why are you back? Have you found the person who killed my wife?”

Seeing Sanderson’s flushed face, his dazed eyes, and smelling the cheap cologne and booze wafting from him, Roan’s expression darkened. Tilting his head, he signaled Ryder to block Sanderson. Roan turned and carried Dani back to the bedroom, gently coaxed her to release his arm, then closed the door and strode seriously into the living room.

“Trash!”

“Bitch!”

“Bullshit!”

Sanderson’s eyes were glassy as he shouted profanities. Roan didn’t waste words, pushed Ryder aside, and kicked Sanderson hard in the stomach.

Thud—

Sanderson collapsed backward onto the sofa. Roan grabbed the glass of water he’d poured for Dani earlier and splashed it directly in Sanderson’s face.

“F—”

Before Sanderson could curse again, Roan drew his Glock 18, ignored Ryder’s look, shoved the barrel into Sanderson’s mouth, and barked,

“Are you sober now?”

“...Yes.”

“Can you speak properly?”

“...Yes.”

Bang—

Roan didn’t fire. He simply hurled the glass onto the floor, its shattering sound making Sanderson flinch. Then Roan withdrew the Glock from Sanderson’s mouth.

Turning, Roan caught Ryder’s stern gaze. He raised his brows and subtly pointed at the Glock’s safety—it hadn’t been disengaged. The threat was enough to frighten the drunken Sanderson.

“Ever since my wife disappeared, you cops kept telling me, ‘We can’t say anything,’” Sanderson, now much clearer, sat on the sofa clutching his face, his emotions running high. “When you finally contacted me again, all you had to tell me was that she had died! Now, I have no idea what happened to her—I only know she’s dead. Yet you keep asking me about her life before. Don’t you think that’s too much?”

“I understand how you feel, okay?” Roan stared intently at Sanderson, speaking gravely. “We want to help you, but first, you need to help us. Only then can we find the real killer who took your wife. So, answer me—where was your wife when she disappeared?”

Hearing Roan’s words, Sanderson took a deep breath, pressed his temples, and thought for a long moment before speaking quietly:

“Tamara worked as a cashier at WalMart. That big supermarket is about a fifteen-minute drive from here. It closes around ten-thirty at night, so Tamara usually gets home at about ten-fifty. Three weeks ago, after her shift, she called me, said she’d be home in twenty minutes, asked me to prepare something for her to eat, so I started cooking a little. But thirty minutes passed and Tamara never came home... That was the last message I got from her.”

“Okay.”

Roan jotted down Sanderson’s account, then continued,

“Before Tamara disappeared, did she mention being followed or harassed?”

“No,” Sanderson shook his head, explaining, “Tamara was just a supermarket cashier. Sometimes some punks would tease her, but it was always just jokes. Tamara and her coworkers were used to it—sometimes they'd even curse back.”

Roan continued writing, then asked again,

“As Tamara’s husband, did you notice anyone around her who bothered her, or who was constantly trying to please her?”

“No.”

Sanderson shook his head, “Tamara was straightforward. If she liked someone, she said so; if she didn’t, she made it clear. If asked, she’d give an answer right then and there—never hesitated.”

“Alright.”

Roan noted down the words, his brows furrowed, finding nothing particularly useful. After thinking a moment, he handed Sanderson a sheet of paper.

“Which WalMart did Tamara work at? Write down the address for me.”

“Okay.”

After gathering the interview notes, Roan stepped outside to call Mona, confirming that New Jersey’s child protection department would arrive in three minutes. He signaled Ryder to return to the SUV, preparing to drive to WalMart to search for clues.

Just then, Dani, taking advantage of Sanderson’s distraction, quietly slipped out of the house and ran straight toward the SUV.

Roan, startled, opened the car door and rushed out to scoop Dani into his arms.

Before Roan could speak, Dani’s clear voice sounded in his ear:

“I know where my mom went.”

“?”