Revenge of The Furtive Billionaire Heir

119. Missing Girl.

Once we entered the police station, we were taken to the office of the senior detective who was now handling our case, a Mr. Hank Reverend.

Hank Reverend is leaning on his desk, staring at a board with various pictures of evidence pinned on it, and some of the pins connected with red strings. He doesn’t even notice us entering until the officer accompanying us tells him, “Sir, these are the statement witnesses of the shooting case number 7.”

Detective Reverend slowly turns towards us, eyes scanning us quickly. He is a tall man, rail thin, and dressed in a crumpled suit with his batch attached to a chain over his shirt. He had two days’ worth of stubble growing over his cheeks and bloodshot eyes. Greasy dark hair fell over his eyes, and he had a permanent scowl.

He did look very much like a stereotypical detective one would see in a gritty crime drama.

Oh, joy.

“Good evenin’,” he inclines his head after nodding to himself, “My name’s Hank Reverend and I’ve been put in charge of the sh