I Am Tired Of Being A Hero-Chapter 213: The information

Arlen noticed a small board in front of the table.

-Study for one hour

-Make lunch

-Go to Work

-Study for two hours

-Sleep

The last two were not checked. Arlen sighed, this was someone who had left the house with every intention to come back home.

He sighed and opened the drawers of the table. Aside from the first drawer that had some makeup and skin care products, the rest was filled with even more books. The last drawer had notebooks and as he flipped through it, hoping for some kind of dairy, all he could notice was that the red ink in the notebooks was increasingly getting lower.

For instance, in this last notebook, each page had less than five ink marks on each page.

Lisa opened the fridge and closed it back, "She has a lot of fruits and vegetables."

"She was preparing for an examination. There are no pictures." He noted as he began to carefully search through the small wardrobe.

"Officers?" A young woman in her early twenties peered through the window, she was followed by a younger teenager that looked like her.

Arlen took a breath and walked towards the woman, "My name is Arlen Sinclair. I am a Captain in the Davenport Police Bureau. We are investigating a case, please cooperate with our investigation."

The woman gritted her teeth and pushed the younger teenager to the next door. She then walked into the apartment like she owned it and plopped down on the chair, "What did that bitch do now?"

"Hey.." Lisa could not handle someone insulting the dead and wanted to move forward but Arlen’s stare pinned her down.

The woman laughed, "Easy, tiger. That is just what we call her." The woman was wearing a long skirt and a scarf, she crossed her legs, her duck slippers moving up and down. "She always walks around like she is better than all of us. What did she do now?"

"When last did you see Miss Wilson?"

"Miss..." The woman wrinkled her lips like she had heard something funny but she thought of something and moved closer, "I heard that there is always some kind of compensation for this kind of information. Police reward. Just how much are we talking about? You see, I am that bi...Emily’s best friend. There is nothing that she does not tell me. I know everything about her."

Arlen had a pair of warm blue eyes but at times, they could turn incredibly sharp. When he stared at someone with those eyes, the sight would make anyone hesitate.

"Emily Wilson is not missing. She was found dead this afternoon."

The woman’s spine instinctively straightened and she sighed. "How did she die?"

"A knife wound."

The woman sighed again and rubbed her head, "That is unfortunate. Emily is not the kind to mix herself in things like that anymore."

"Anymore."

The woman fidgeted a bit.

"Ma’am, hiding information from the police can lead to an obstruction of justice charge."

There was a slight grinding of teeth by the woman, "You know, street runs."

"Drugs?" Arlen questioned.

The woman hesitated for the longest time before she slowly nodded and then shook her head. They questioned her for more than thirty minutes before they left the house.

The woman watched their lips, a little confusion on her brows. She has dealt with police officers several times in her line of work, many of them looked at her with a mixture of contempt and helplessness. Some looked at her with barely concealed disgust like someone who had spotted litter on the roadside.

Why did he look at her so calmly? Like meeting someone who does her kind of job was so normal that it would be absurd to react otherwise. She bit her lips and slammed the door shut before she angrily swore, recalling that it was not her house.

"There was just one stab wound, it can not be a client, could it be a drug bust gone wrong?"

Arlen thought for a while before he faced Lisa who was driving, "Verify her alibi."

Lisa nodded, "Should we go to interview the manager of Club Lush." Her voice was low and

Arlen shook his head, "I was thinking the same thing. Pull up the location on the map, let’s go."

Lisa’s hands around the steering wheel clenched a bit and Arlen turned to look at her.

"Officer Johnson. Is anything wrong? Did you notice something off?" Most times, the instinct in cases like this was usually worth noting, it is just that officers were always hesitant to share what was going through their mind.

"It is about Club Lush. I know a little about them."

Arlen looked at her, listening, "They are fairly new. There was a bar where they were currently staying. More like a club and a bar, it was run by the Bonnie Gang. From what I heard, the current owner of Club Lush was in the Gang. This was before the Gang clearing happened seven years ago, I heard that he was the one who told the ABI officers and gave enough evidence to lock all the members of the gang. He then burned Bonnie Bar to the ground and built his own club. They say he is even worse than the previous owner of the Bonnie Bar, except he has the ABI on his side."

She took a deep breath, "They call him ’The Snake’."

"The Snake." Arlen repeated, "That sounds like the villain of a children’s cartoon, "What is his real name?"

"Victor LaGrin."

Arlen pulled the laptop that was sitting on the backseat and typed in the name. The man’s profile picture soon came out. He was a tall, lean man with slicked black hair and brown eyes that gleamed with a sinister intensity. He was the kind of person that once you see, you know you should avoid. 10 years in jail for

possession with intent to distribute large quantities of drugs, drug trafficking with a firearm, assault, prostitution-related money laundering. His record had been clean for the past seven years.

"He sounds like a peach. Turn around, and head back to the station, a full frontal confrontation would not yield any results with this person."