Chapter 52

Chapter 52
Micheal, dressed in dark shades, stood beside his car just outside the park, Ariel standing next to him.

“Are you certain she’ll come?”

Ariel nodded. “She called me, so I’m sure she will.” She continued scanning the park.

Her eyes caught sight of a small figure approaching. The woman looked cautious, glancing around as though someone might be following her.

“I think that’s her,” Ariel said.

The lady lifted her head, and Ariel waved.

“Hey, Dara,” Ariel greeted as the woman approached.

Dara greeted Micheal politely before turning to Ariel.

“Ah yes, just like I promised,” Ariel said with a smile as she opened the car door.



Minutes later, Dara was hunched over a burger, eating like it was her last meal.

Micheal sat in the driver’s seat, visibly impatient.

Ariel, however, urged Dara to slow down. “There’s plenty of time. Eat properly.”

Dara smiled gratefully.

Twenty minutes later, she was done.

“Now speak,” Micheal said immediately, turning in his seat.

Dara began. “Mr. Cole often goes to the club with his assistant… and another woman.”

“A woman?” Micheal asked.

Dara nodded.

Ariel frowned. “Do you mean his wife?”

Dara shook her head. “I’ve never seen his wife.”

Micheal pulled up a picture of Mrs. Cole and showed it to her. Dara shook her head again. “No, not her. The woman at the club is younger. I heard she deals in jewelry.”

“Anything else?” Micheal asked, pocketing his phone.

Dara shook her head.

“Alright, thank you,” Ariel said.

Dara stepped out of the car with the bags of food items Ariel had promised her—her condition for sharing what she knew.

“You just gave all that to her?” Micheal asked as he started the engine.

“She needed them,” Ariel replied. “After losing her father, things must have been hard. That’s probably why she worked at the club.”



The next day at the station, Micheal and Ariel sat in the briefing room, papers spread across the table.

“These are the company documents Mr. Gideon sent to Mrs. Cole,” Micheal said. “Most of them mention a Mr. Donovan. Looks like he opposed a lot of decisions in the company, and there are notes about him trying to take company funds.”

Ariel rotated her laptop toward him. “Mr. Donovan is a rival. He was actually a shareholder before he withdrew—or rather, got kicked out. After that, he started sending threats to Mr. Cole. Publicly.”

Micheal grinned, amused. “You work fast, Ariel.”

“It’s called the internet, and stop looking at me like that,” she said just as her phone rang. She excused herself and stepped outside to answer it.

Ariel returned moments later, looking excited.

“A promotion?” Micheal teased.

She clicked her tongue. “I wish. No, my cousin will be coming over this weekend.” Her smile widened. “I last saw her when she was five. That’s like three years ago. Oh my God… I can’t wait to see how tall she’s gotten.”

“That’s great,” Micheal said.



That afternoon, armed with a warrant signed by Mrs. Jones, Micheal and Ariel headed to Mr. Donovan’s apartment.

They rang the doorbell. A maid—an elderly woman in her fifties, opened the door.

“We’re here to see Mr. Donovan,” Micheal said politely.

She smiled and let them in. “Mr. Donovan is in the bathroom. He’ll join you shortly.”

“Thank you,” Ariel said as the maid left them in the sitting room.

Micheal began wandering around the small space, taking in his surrounding.

The place smelled faintly of lemon polish, everything placed neatly as though someone cleaned it just moments before they arrived. Ariel remained standing near the arm of the sofa, her eyes scanning every inch of the room.

A few moments later, the bathroom door opened and Mr. Donovan stepped out, drying his hands with a small towel. His eyes widened slightly at the sight of them.

“Oh…detectives,” he said, trying—and failing—to hide his discomfort. “What brings you here?”

“We just have a few questions,” Micheal replied calmly.

Donovan forced a smile. “Of course. Please sit.”

Ariel remained standing. Micheal didn’t sit either.

“We received documents sent to Mrs. Cole,” Micheal started. “Many of them had your name on them. There were mentions of you trying to access company funds.”

Donovan’s face twitched, but he kept his fake calm. “People say many things. I left that company a long time ago.”

Ariel took a step forward and turned her laptop toward him. “But you didn’t leave quietly. You sent threats to Mr. Cole after your removal.”

Donovan exhaled sharply. “I was angry. I admit that. But I didn’t kill him.”

“We’d like to have a look around,” Micheal said.

Donovan’s shoulders tensed. “Is that necessary?”

“We have a warrant,” Ariel added gently.

He paused. Then nodded. “Fine. Do whatever you like.”

Micheal headed straight for the study. Donovan moved as if to block him, but stopped midway, realizing how suspicious he looked. Ariel followed behind Micheal.

Inside the study, everything was organized… too organized. Micheal opened drawers while Ariel searched through the shelves.

Then Micheal found a locked wooden box inside the bottom drawer.

“Mr. Donovan?” Micheal called.

Donovan appeared in the doorway, tense. “That is private property.”

Micheal didn’t respond. He used a small tool to pry the box open.

Inside were photographs, a cufflink with dried blood on it, a piece of jewelry that looked expensive, and a small flash drive.

Ariel’s breath caught. “This is Mr. Cole’s cufflink…”

Micheal held up the photographs, showing Mr. Cole in the passenger seat of a vehicle, looking distressed. Mr. Gideon was beside him.

Ariel looked at Donovan. “You said you had nothing to do with him.”

Donovan swallowed hard. “He— he owed me money. That’s all. I didn’t do anything.”

Micheal already grabbed his cuffs. “Mr. Donovan, you are under arrest for the murder of Mr. Cole.”

The elderly maid gasped from the corner of the hallway, her hand covering her mouth. She looked terrified… but not of them. Terrified of Donovan.

Donovan began to shout. “I didn’t kill him! Listen to me! I only followed him to get my money back!”

But Micheal pushed him toward the door. “Save it at the station.”

Ariel said nothing as they took him outside to the patrol vehicle. The neighbors peeked through windows as Donovan continued shouting that he was innocent.

When the vehicle drove off, Micheal sighed. “Finally. Case closed.”

Ariel forced a smile, but something inside her didn’t settle. “Yeah…I guess.”



Later that evening, Ariel returned home exhausted. She slipped off her jacket and dropped onto her bed, pulling out her phone.

She began scrolling through the photos she took earlier— images of the documents, the cufflink, the photographs in the wooden box. Something bothered her. She couldn’t explain it.

She zoomed into one of the documents.

The handwriting on the signature line looked shaky… almost like someone tried to imitate Donovan’s hand.

She frowned, zooming further.

The slant of the letters wasn’t the same as his handwriting from other signatures she’d seen earlier at the station.

She switched to the next image.

Again, similar handwriting…but not identical.

“Hm…” Ariel whispered to herself.

She sat up straighter, going through each photo carefully.

Then she paused.