Chapter 005:
Secrets

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RAINE

"Any updates on the victim?" the man added, his voice steady.

My mind raised with piling questions that seemed to block my train of thoughts. If he already know I really am, why would he still act as if I am the one I told him I am?

"Your friends are busy now, and they couldn't hang out with you?" I asked, keeping my tone casual as I watched his reaction closely, trying to see if he would slip.

"That may be part of it, but right now, I'm more focused on calming my restless mind-and you're the expert in that," he said, his voice almost unnervingly calm. His eyes flickered with a hint of self-assuredness as he continued, "Though, I must say, with a mind as sharp as mine, I might just lend a hand to that case, if the detective girl I mentioned hasn't cracked it yet. She could very well need my help."

"How did you know about that case?" Zane asked, his expression shifting as he glanced at me. He leaned closer, lowering his voice into a whisper. "The police haven't told anyone you're involved in the investigation. How could he possibly know about it?"

"No, Mr. Garcia. He might not be telling the truth," I said sharply, my voice loud but controlled, purposely cutting through Zane's whispered suspicion. This man-he wasn't someone to take lightly, and I could feel it in the air.

"I have my ways," he replied, his gaze shifting towards my colleague. "As it happens, one of the officers handling the case mentioned spotting my detective idol at the scene." His voice remained still, but there was a gleam in his eyes, as if he relished the knowledge he wasn't supposed to have.

"She?" Zane asked, his brow furrowing in confusion.

"Is there a problem, Mr...?" Elizalde inquired, his tone suggestive as he gestured towards my companion.

"Maven Garcia," I replied, a hint of pride in my voice as I introduced him.

"Is there an issue, Mr. Garcia? Have I done something wrong?" Elizalde asked.

"The combustion ca-," I interjected, though unexpectedly interrupted by a voice crack.

"Laryngospasm?" Elizalde asked softly, his gaze shifting to me with concern.

"Just a voice crack," Zane replied confidently. "Coffee?" He offered me the other cup he was holding, but I simply gestured for him to set it down on the table instead.

"The combustion case appears to be crafted to mimic one of those instances of spontaneous human combustion I once read about in my favourite book," I replied, adjusting my posture. "That's all."

"How can you be so sure that's what happened?" Elizalde asked, raising an eyebrow. "Did De Verra say that?"

"Because that's my opinion, and I couldn't care less about what De Verra thinks," I replied, only to pause and reflect on my words. "But I overheard that while I was eavesdropping nearby, and I just wanted to sound intelligent to perhaps appease your chaotic mind right now."

"Tell me why. Did they say anything?" he asked.

"I know that the victim, from what I've gathered, was perfectly healthy and had no ties to the witness, which somewhat contradicts the accounts from the 18th century. I can also tell you have something to share-that's why you personally asked me to come this very morning."

"Could you provide more details?" Elizalde asked.

"Why?"

"Because I want to help as well," he replied. "And if you don't tell me, I won't be able to share something I just realized might be important for my therapists to know in order to treat me."

A smile formed on my flushed lips. "There really is," I muttered to myself. "Maven, find the people in this house and keep them away for now."

Zane downed his coffee in one swift motion, the cup clattering against the table as he complied with my request. "Why drive them away?" Elizalde asked, curiosity glinting in his eyes.

"Because what you are dealing with is an important matter, and others knowing about it-besides me as your therapist-might lead to disaster," I replied, keeping my tone steady. "Now, two people far from the city and homes, one vehicle, and a bottle of water."

"I'm listening," he replied, shifting in his seat to face me more directly.

Once again, I stood up, and the fields I had only seen in the video chat now stretched out before us, as if we had both been standing there before it all began.

"According to what I've learned-"

"From whom?" he interjected suddenly.

"From what I overheard while observing the area earlier this morning, obviously," I replied, keeping my tone casual. I knew I couldn't reveal everything I knew, considering that I had obtained that information from documents in Sir Aguilar's office and also with the help of my sister when I discreetly used her social media account.

"Okay. Carry on," he spoke.

"The female victim jogs along that street every day. This morning was supposed to be just another exercise session for her," I continued. "After leaving her house in one of those nearby homes, she felt an intense thirst."

In front of us, the figure of a woman lay still, her youthful face framed by loose strands of black hair, suggesting she was likely in her mid-twenties.

"A woman with a fit body and average height," I began, speaking as though I were painting a picture for him to bring the image to life, allowing him to see the scene as vividly as I did in my mind. "Based on what I've gathered while living in the area, she'd always go jogging in a comfortable oversized cotton shirt, paired with leggings. Her shoes were a simple black-and-white tennis style. And she never, ever, left the house without her signature touch of lipstick."

"After all, she went quite far. From what I know, she jogged for a kilometre, so it's only natural for her to be thirsty," he interjected, as though he, too, had stepped into my mind, witnessing the scene happen with me.

"The witness said she finished off an entire bottle of mineral water. After that, something happened," I said.

"The woman will burn," he stated, his gaze gleaming with interest.

"Before that-before the burning-what happens?" I asked, keeping my voice steady.

"I'm sorry, but are you testing me?" he asked, his brow furrowing in confusion.

"You mentioned that you have a keen mind, right? Personally, I believe Raine de Verra isn't as impressive as you think. There are plenty of people out there far more intelligent than her, yet they lack the need for attention that she has," I remarked. To an observer, he seemed even more irritating than Zane whenever he decided to tease me. Fortunately, I was already familiar with the art of making fun of myself.

"True enough," he replied. "But why do I get the feeling you're making this case more complicated? You know, the three of us could form a trio, solving crimes together."

"Because you deliberately appeared before me half-naked to catch my attention and handed over your golden pass for Innotech every time you visit the place. Now, use that keen intellect of yours to deduce the rest of my reply," I said, eager to wrap up this mission as soon as possible.

"She handed the empty bottle back to the man," he replied.

As I laid out the situation for him, the pieces of the puzzle began to fall into place. "The water will trigger something she had already swallowed before she set out on her run," I explained, seeing the woman standing before us, framed by the doorway of her house.

"So, Zane was right?" he asked with a playful smile.

"What?" I asked, my brows knitting together in confusion. There was no way he could know about the argument Zane and I had over the case. Unless...

"For someone as brilliant-dare I say, even more so than Raine de Verra-you must understand how irritating it can be when someone else uncovers something before us," he replied, his smile remaining. "The police mentioned that to me as well, but go on. I'm intrigued."

"Someone mentioned that a drug identical to the ones she typically takes before her daily jog was accidentally ingested, placed there by someone as part of an experiment," I continued. "The victim mistook it for her usual food supplement, thanks to the deliberate mix-up in the containers."

"Nice," he replied, a wider smile spreading across his face. "You'd make a better sidekick for Raine than Zane ever could."

"And I suppose you're aware of something about that drug as well?" I asked, raising an eyebrow in suspicion. We had returned to the very room we stood in earlier, the atmosphere thick with unspoken tension lingering between the two of us. "It's time for you to reveal your secret, Mr. Elizalde."

His eyes widened, diminishing the size of his smile. "Why are you asking that? Don't be absurd-you couldn't have seen or heard anything from the crime scene."

His stiff posture and the slight twitch of his lips betrayed him. "So you do know," I said, a knowing smile creeping onto my face. "And that's what's weighing heavily on your mind."

His gaze faltered, confusion flickering in his eyes. "Go on, Mr. Elizalde. As your new therapist, it's my duty to help. Share what you know, and together, we can tackle your case-I'll gladly accept that role."

"Uh, Charlotte..." I heard my companion's voice approaching from the hallway.

"Ignore Maven. He's merely my assistant because... surprise... I'm just a new therapist in training," I said to Elizalde, my voice steady, determined not to let my plan come to a halt.

"Charlotte!" he called out again, his tone having a hint of urgency as he approached.

I flashed a quick, forced smile at Elizalde, then stood up, my curiosity piqued as I turned to Zane. "Excuse me for a moment," I said to him before facing my companion. "What is it?!"

In the hallway beyond the living room, Zane appeared, his eyes widened with a tense look. "I think we should leave now," he said, his gaze fixed on the window.

"What do you mean?" I asked, startled as he dashed towards me and grabbed my arm, pulling me away from where he was standing.

"The woman earlier, she was unconscious when I found her," he replied. "I was just talking to one of Elizalde's drivers when he suddenly collapsed on the floor."

"We need to include Elizalde in our escape. I have a strong feeling he knows something about all of this," I whispered.

"But he'll recognize us," he warned, glancing anxiously towards the doorway.

I shrugged off his grip and returned to our client. "You need to leave this house," I said firmly, my tone brokering no argument.

"What do you mean?" he asked, confusion etching his features.

"We don't have time for questions, Mr. Elizalde. Stand up and come with-" I began, but a chilling sensation crept over me, as if I were being watched, halting my words mid-sentence.

"Put your hands in the air, all of you! Now, or else!" commanded a man with a Chinese accent.

I raised my hands as instructed, my heart racing. As I turned my attention to Zane, I noticed three men in sleek suits, their sunglasses reflecting the dim light of the room.

One of them had a gun pointed directly at me, the cold steel glinting ominously, while he tightened his grip around Zane's neck. The other two men moved towards Elizalde, their movements calculated and predatory.

"Chinese? Well, isn't Elizalde impressive?" I muttered to myself, a hint of sarcasm lacing my words.

"Tell me your name, ma'am, and your colleague's. I heard you're a therapist," the man said, standing a short distance away.

"为什么？(Wèishéme)?" I asked softly.

"Ma'am, please tell us your name," he repeated. His tone was firm but it has a hint of impatience.

"Charlotte Romero and Maven Garcia," I replied, keeping my voice steady despite the lack of thoughts inside my mind.

"You made him talk, right? Explain what happened a while ago," the man demanded.

"Know something about what, sir?" I replied with a teasing tone, though my heart raced beneath the veneer of confidence.

"These people won't let anyone in here unless the owner permits and trusts them. We've been watching Zephyros and his friends for months," the man stated.

"Are you the reason they no longer come here?" Elizalde asked, pushing himself up from his seat.

"They clearly know nothing about your background. You're very private," the man added. "And after months of solitude, he finally allowed himself to see a new therapist?"

"Oh, for heaven's sake, just ask him yourself! He's the one who knows if he has any information about that damned thing you're talking about!" Zane shouted, trying to keep the rising anger inside of him from erupting.

"What the heck are you-" Elizalde began, but three men suddenly pulled out their guns and aimed them at him.

"Stay out of this, Mr. Elizalde! "I swear I will crush these intruders right now if you try to outsmart us again, whether you have the information we need or not," the man interrupted. "Mr. Blake, at the count of three, shoot this young lady," he added.

"What-" Zane exclaimed.

"He hasn't mentioned anything to me about that!" I defended, desperately trying to hide my fear as another gun was aimed at me.

"Three."