Chapter 20 The Catcher in the Rye

On a late autumn afternoon, the sun barely lit up a lonely field in the countryside, the air thick with the scent of dying grass and damp earth.

I gripped the steering wheel tight, bouncing along the bumpy country road, and finally rolled into Elizabeth's hometown.

She used to live in this run-down two-story house, with big patches of gray-white paint peeling off, showing the old bricks underneath.

The chilly autumn wind swirled the fallen leaves in the yard, making a rustling sound, adding to the sense of emptiness.

Weeds grew thick, almost up to my ankles, and the dead leaves shook in the wind like a bunch of old folks waiting for their final days.

A wave of sadness washed over me, a visceral reminder of the young life cut tragically short.

An old woman with gray hair and a face full of wrinkles hobbled out of the house.

She was hunched over, her frail body looking like it could be blown over by a gust of wind, and her cloudy eyes showed the marks of time and life's hardships.

I recognized her right away; she was Elizabeth's mom, Aria Clark.

I quickly got out of the car and walked up to her, "Ma'am. Hello, I am..."

Before I could finish, Aria reached out with her rough hand, gripping my arm tightly, like she was holding on for dear life.

She asked weakly, "Are you... are you here to see Elizabeth?"

Looking at her weathered face, I felt a sharp pain in my heart.

I took a deep breath and tried to speak gently, "Ma'am, I'm a police officer, and I need to ask you some questions about Elizabeth."

The word "police" seemed to drain the last vestiges of color from her face. "She's gone, isn't she?" she whispered, tears welling in her eyes. "My little girl..."

I quickly tried to comfort her, "Ma'am, I'm so sorry for your loss. We'll find the killer and get justice for Elizabeth."

Aria nodded and shakily brought out a photo album from the house.

The cover of the album was worn, showing the cardboard underneath. Aria's rough fingers caressed the cover, like she was touching Elizabeth's face.

My heart tightened again, and a deep sadness and sympathy welled up inside me.

I took the album and gently opened it.

Inside, the yellowed photos showed Elizabeth's short life.

From a babbling baby to an innocent child, and then to a graceful young woman.

Each photo was a poignant reminder of the life stolen, the future forever out of reach.

My fingers lightly brushed over the photos of Elizabeth, like I could almost feel her past joy and energy.

A deep sense of sorrow and heaviness settled in my chest, making it hard to breathe.

A young life had been cut short, and I was powerless to stop it.

"Ma'am, do you know if Elizabeth had any enemies?" I asked carefully, not wanting to upset her.

"Elizabeth was a good girl. She never had any enemies."

Aria paused, like she was trying to remember something. "But she did have a relationship with a man once, and later, they broke up. That man's name was..."

I hoped Aria would remember, but after thinking for a long time, she finally said, "I forgot."

"Ma'am, thank you for your help." Feeling helpless, I got up to leave, my heart in turmoil.

I felt like I was getting closer to the truth, but also that I was stepping into danger.

Back at the police station, I immediately gathered Isabella and Harper to discuss it further.

"'The Catcher in the Rye,' 'Hecate' organization members..." These terms kept running through my mind.

Just as I was deep in thought, a sudden angry shout came from outside the door, "James." Michael's voice was icy. "You better give me an explanation!"

"Explanation?" I looked at him, puzzled. "Explanation for what?"

"Explain why you are investigating the 'Hecate' organization on your own!" Michael shouted angrily. "Do you know what you're doing? It could get you killed, and endanger all of us!"

"Michael, I..." I tried to explain, but Michael cut me off, "I warn you, James. Stop your investigation right now! Otherwise, I will report you!"

I was stunned, Michael's words left me shocked and confused.

Why was he stopping me from investigating the 'Hecate' organization? Could he be involved with them too?

Later that night, as I sat alone in my office, poring over my notes, Aria's words echoed in my mind: "There was a man..."

A long shot, maybe, but it was all I had. I had to go back, had to see if I could shake loose that memory, uncover the name that could blow this case wide open.

The farmhouse, shrouded in the gloom of twilight, seemed to loom larger than before, its silence heavy with secrets. The wind whispered through the trees, a mournful symphony that sent shivers down my spine.

I took a deep breath and stepped out of the car, the scent of decay and the promise of danger hanging heavy in the air.