Chapter 39 Emoji
It had been three days since the Military Criminal Investigation Department took over the investigation into Peter’s death.
Three days since they sealed off the detention block, confiscated every file, every drive, every record that had passed through Maverick’s hands.
Now, he sat in the cold confines of the interrogation room, the stale hum of the ceiling fan filling the silence.
John stood quietly beside him, a silent witness to what was about to unfold before them.
On the metal table before Maverick lay a file stamped CONFIDENTIAL in red ink.
He flipped through it slowly. Every page was neat, clean, and precise.
The first report came from the forensic team.
“Maverick, the autopsy results confirm asphyxiation by hanging,”
Captain Collins said flatly, his tone mechanical.
“No signs of struggle, no defensive wounds. The time of death was approximately between 22:00 and 23:00 hours.”
Maverick’s eyes narrowed as they scanned the report.
“You expect me to believe that?”
Collins didn’t even look up.
“Nothing unusual, Maverick. Everything points to suicide.”
He tapped a finger on the paper, voice tinged with mock patience.
“Unless you’d like to teach the coroner how to do his job.”
Maverick said nothing, but the muscle in his jaw flexed. He turned the pages again the sections on the audio and video logs.
The video feed had gone dark at exactly 20:01 hours the moment the red light blinked out.
The written transcripts ended with Peter’s final words: “I’ll talk tomorrow.”
Then came the list of visitors, every name, every timestamp, aligned with clockwork precision.
“As you can see,” Collins went on, “the entries match perfectly. The last person to enter was Corporal Davis delivered food at 20:00 hours. The next was Private Lewis, who discovered the body at 05:00.”
Maverick’s silence filled the room, heavy as lead.
Collins closed the file and stood, his expression smug.
“Captain Richard, the investigation finds no evidence of foul play. Suicide by hanging. The case will be classified and closed.”
Maverick shut his own copy of the file with quiet finality.
“Who alerted you about the incident?”
Collins smirked, his eyes glinting with condescension.
“Does it matter, Maverick? I did my job.”
Maverick’s voice was low, controlled but the words were ice.
“You’re clearly not good at it.”
Collins tilted his head, pretending not to hear.
“You said something, Captain?”
“Nothing that concerns you.”
The legs of Maverick’s chair scraped sharply against the tile as he stood.
John shifted uneasily beside him, the air between the two officers charged and brittle.
Collins’s smirk deepened.
“Good. Then we’re done here.
The report goes up to Central Command in the morning.”
He turned toward the door, but Maverick’s voice cut through the room.
“Would you believe a man kills himself after agreeing to cooperate?”
Collins paused, hand on the door handle. He glanced back with a lazy, dismissive tone.
“People are capable of a lot of things, Captain.”
Then he walked out.
The door clicked shut, leaving only the hum of the fan and the weight of Maverick’s disbelief.
The room fell silent after Collins left.
John was the first to speak.
“Sir… I know what you’re thinking. But the evidence is airtight.”
Maverick turned toward the window. Outside, the sun crept over the compound dull, red, and heavy, like a warning.
“Evidence can lie, John,” he said quietly. “People can make it lie.”
His gaze fell back to the open folder on his desk, the photographs of Peter’s lifeless body, the timestamps on the footage.
He thought of the emblem from the ammunition theft, the same one Boyle had noted before his disappearance. The same emblem painted on the van in the CCTV clip.
Every lead was turning to ash.
The suspect was dead.
The theft unresolved.
The emblem untraceable.
The accomplice invisible.
It all hung in the air unfinished, taunting.
“Someone’s playing a game,” Maverick murmured, voice low and grim.
“And whoever it is… is a step ahead.”
John shifted uneasily. “What now, sir?”
Maverick’s eyes lifted, dark and unyielding.
“We start over. There must be something we’re missing.”
He paused, then added, “Retrieve all the files handed to MCID. Every copy, every data log. I’ll go through them myself.”
“Yes, sir.” John straightened, his tone firm despite the unease flickering behind his eyes.
Maverick’s voice hardened further.
“And the secret file that was sent to my brother, Boyle… I need to know who delivered it. Someone close knows something.”
John nodded once. “I’ll look into it, sir.”
Maverick didn’t respond. He only stared at the window again at the sun bleeding across the sky and in its faint red glow, his reflection stared back at him. Cold. Determined. Alone.
Maverick’s phone buzzed against the desk, breaking the silence.
He reached for it absentmindedly, still half lost in thought.
A single notification blinked on the screen
One new message.
He opened it.
It wasn’t words. Just an emoji.
Heart.
From Heaven.
For a moment, the hardened lines of his face softened.
Unbeknownst to him, the corner of his lips curved upward faint, unguarded.
Back at the Richard estate, Heaven had been hovering over Maverick’s contact for almost ten minutes, her thumb trembling as she debated whether to call… or just send something simple.
He hadn’t returned home in two days.
But her chest tightened.
What right did she even have?
“Heaven, what are you doing?”
Eva’s voice sliced through the silence, from behind her Heaven jolted so hard that she mistakenly sent a heart.
She immediately locked it and kept it aside.
“Nothing,” Heaven said quickly, her gaze flicking everywhere but Eva’s face.
“Nothing?” Eva repeated, stepping closer with a soft laugh. “You were clearly doing something. We’re friends you can tell me anything… hmm?”
That word friends stabbed deeper than any accusation.
Heaven’s stomach twisted with guilt. She didn’t deserve Eva’s warmth. Not at all.
“I… I should go back inside,” Heaven murmured, already rising to her feet.
“I won’t tell anyone I saw you send a heart,” Eva said lightly, still smiling.
Heaven froze mid-step.
“I..Eva, it’s not what you think…” she whispered, voice cracking, chill ran through her spine.
Eva just chuckled gently. “You don’t have to explain. Honestly, You’re young, Heaven. You shouldn’t spend your whole life being a widow. I’m happy for you”
She had no idea the heart had been sent…to her own husband, else she wouldn't be happy for her.
“Do you mind sharing who he is ?” She wriggled her brows to Heaven.
Heaven felt her throat close. Her pulse hammered so loud it drowned everything else out.
Who he is?
Eva was asking her who her husband is.
“I… it was a mistake,” Heaven stuttered. “I didn’t mean to send anything. It... it wasn’t..”
Before she could finish, Eva’s eyes lit up with playful mischief.
“Oh, then I’ll just find out myself.”
In one swift move, Eva snatched Heaven’s phone.
“Eva.... no!” Heaven gasped, lunging forward.
But Eva was already laughing, attempting to open it.
Heaven’s heart crashed to her feet. Her vision blurred with sheer panic.
Eva couldn’t see that heart.
She couldn’t find out.