Chapter 555 Tracking Charlotte
The fury hidden in the depths of her crimson eyes was oceanic and unstoppable.
Feeling her unabashed hatred, Patricia's breath hitched, and she instinctively stepped back.
"Don't be afraid, I'm here," James said, reaching out to pull her behind him.
Charlotte's gaze followed the voice, and when she saw James, the hatred in her eyes seemed to crack like ice on a frozen lake, fear beginning to seep through the growing fissures. She clutched her head tightly, swaying as she inched backward.
"Don't come looking for me," she murmured, and tears started flowing down her cheeks. "Please, I'm sorry. I should never have done you harm... Please, leave me be, don't haunt me anymore."
James and Patricia exchanged a look, sensing something was off.
Patricia stepped around James and closed in on Charlotte and said sharply, "What do you mean by that?"
Charlotte continued as if she hadn't heard, crying and pleading. "I'm sorry! I'm your sister. Please, for our family's sake, forgive me. I know I shouldn't have caused your death. I realize my mistake. Please, I'm begging you."
Her speech was disjointed, yet Patricia caught a crucial piece of information. She grabbed Charlotte's arm, squeezing tightly.
"Are you saying you killed Martin?" Patricia said, her gaze cold and unrelenting.
Charlotte winced in pain. "Ow, that hurts!"
"Tell me, did you kill Martin?" Patricia said, raising her voice.
If Charlotte had indeed been responsible for Martin's death, had Patricia wrongly sought revenge? Further, Hunter claimed he had killed Charlotte, so what was she doing here?
An absurd thought struck Patricia. How could Martin and Hunter, both intelligent, have utterly fallen victim to this woman's scheme? The mere thought sent shivers down her spine, and her flesh crawled.
With a sudden burst of strength, Charlotte shoved Patricia, sending her stumbling backward. She nearly fell, but a pair of strong hands quickly steadied her.
"Are you okay?" a caring voice floated down to her.
"I'm fine," Patricia said.
By the time she regained her balance, Charlotte had already fled. Patricia grabbed James and took off after her. James, however, was not in the best of health and started to cough violently after just a few steps. Meanwhile, Charlotte recklessly plowed ahead, quickly leaving them in the dust.
James was coughing so severely that Patricia feared for his well-being and dared not continue the chase. She stood on the sidewalk, leaning forward with her hands on her thighs to catch her breath and rest.
James covered his mouth, his face turning red and tears welling up in his eyes from the intensity of his coughing.
Patricia, feeling somewhat guilty, gently patted his back to help ease his breathing.
James gestured with his hand to indicate he was okay.
"I'm sorry!" she said, embarrassed. "I was so anxious that I forgot about your condition. Are you alright? Maybe we should get you to a hospital?"
James looked down, hiding the gleam in his eyes. After catching his breath, he asked, "Who is she? Why were you chasing her? What happened between you two?"
At Charlotte's mention, Patricia stopped patting his back and gritted her teeth with frustration. "She's my husband's sister."
"If she's your sister-in-law, why do you hate her so much? You asked her if she was responsible for Martin's death. Could it be that she killed her brother?"
"I don't know!" Patricia's eyes moistened, and she clenched her fists. "She kidnapped me and told me it was Hunter who killed my husband. I believed that to be true, but something about what she said earlier makes me doubt it. I have to find out the truth."
If Charlotte did indeed murder Martin, she would show no mercy. She vowed to avenge Martin.
Patricia's eyes dropped. "Too bad she got away. In such a vast country like this, finding her again will be incredibly difficult."
"You could go to the police," James said. "Crazy women like her can't be that common. The police here could probably find her by asking around."
Patricia laughed sheepishly. "I forgot I could turn to the police."
James managed to keep a straight face, suppressing the urge to roll his eyes,
The two quickly made their way to the police station.
Before leaving, Patricia made sure to have Nathan give the police chief a heads-up.
Nathan was the branch manager where Carter worked, a man with a robust network, status, and reputation. Seeking his assistance practically guaranteed a boosted efficiency in getting things done.
With just a glance and a nod from Nathan, the chief of police was quick to jump to their assistance.
After Patricia explained the purpose of their visit, the chief barely investigated before saying, "Are you talking about a woman in her twenties? Pretty and dressed in torn yellow clothing and black pants?"
Patricia's eyes widened. "You know her?"
The chief nodded. "Of course. She's been around these parts for quite some time. At first, she wasn't this disturbed, just a little off in her behavior. Then, she suddenly got worse. We tried to find her family, but she has none. Are you related to her? If so, I can take you to her right away."
Patricia's mind went blank for a moment. "So, she's really gone mad?"
"Yes," the chief affirmed, "she has lost her sanity. It's been a while now."
"Do you know where she is?" Patricia asked.
"I have a rough idea. She's in the area where the homeless and undocumented people live. We'll be able to find her there."
"Could you please take us to her?"
"Certainly."
Given the particular nature of the place, the chief didn't feel comfortable going without backup.
The area was secluded, dark, and narrow, with damp grounds. Those in better circumstances had a small shack, while the less fortunate lay on tattered mats, living their entire lives in that very spot.
As they approached the place, a pungent smell hit them. Patricia covered her mouth, watching her step, and carefully followed the few officers inside.
After some inquiring, they quickly found out where Charlotte was. Her characteristics made her stand out—the only deranged woman with features common in Country Z. Thus, everyone knew who it was.
Based on directions from passersby, the group made their way to a dark and dilapidated shack. As they reached for the door to knock, discomforting sounds of intimacy leaked from behind the slightly ajar door, causing them a mix of embarrassment and discomfort.
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