It was a picture of the trash can from a private club Owen frequented, with some items pulled out.
The rookie sent a message:
[Captain, the guy hasn't been in contact with anyone special recently. Just been drinking and hitting on women at the club. But the cleaning staff found this in the trash in his private room. The packaging looks like it's for a prescription drug, so it felt off to me.]
It was the empty foil packaging from two blister packs of pills, with a string of English words and numbers printed on it.
Rhys was all too familiar with this medication.
It was a powerful prescription sedative.
The same kind Margot used to take.
Because of her severe neuropathic pain, she would sometimes be in agony all night. Plagued by nightmares, she often needed this medication to fall asleep.
The problem was, this drug was impossible to get at a regular pharmacy. It required a prescription from a specialized psychiatrist and had to be logged.
Owen, though he kept chaotic hours, was mentally sound. Why would the empty packaging for this drug be thrown away in his private room?
Connecting this to what Clara had said last night—about smelling the same medicinal scent on Owen as on Margot—a chill of fear ran down Rhys’s spine.
Owen and Margot were indeed in contact, and it was definitely more than a casual meeting.
He didn't dare to imagine what would have happened if Owen had actually done something to Clara then.
Rhys recalled Margot's past tactics.
Her specialty was hurting herself to gain sympathy or fabricating situations to morally blackmail others.
But this time, she had given her psychiatric medication to Owen.
A large dose of this drug could cause a person to fall into a coma or even go into shock.
So why did she give the drug to Owen?
Did she want Owen to take it himself? Or did she want Owen to give it to someone else?
If it was for someone else…
Rhys’s expression darkened. He made a quick call to the rookie and gave him another instruction.
-
It was evening by the time Clara got back to Riverside Court from the airport.
As she walked in, she saw a large figure and a small one lying on the sofa.
They must have tired themselves out playing with the puzzle. Felix was curled up on Rhys's chest like a little koala, fast asleep. Rhys also had his eyes closed, one hand resting protectively on his son's back to keep him from rolling off.
Clara tiptoed inside, intending to grab the nearby wool blanket to cover them.
But as she leaned over, she saw that Rhys's phone screen was still lit.
A casual glance was all it took to recognize the interface of a flight tracker app.
A green airplane icon was moving across the map, with the flight number, altitude, and estimated arrival time displayed next to it.
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