The Billionaire Ex-Wife's Return (Cynthia and Ethan) novel Chapter 284

Chapter 284

Cynthia's POV

I was still catching my breath, my heart pounding from the sprint, when Detective Susan appeared beside Kevin's car.

Her expression was a mixture of frustration and disapproval.

"Ms. Cynclair," she said, her tone sharp. "I specifically told you to stay back and let us handle this."

"I know," I said, not backing down. "But…"

"No buts," Detective Susan interrupted. "This is an active investigation. A potentially dangerous situation. You could have compromised the entire operation."

Kevin stepped forward, placing himself slightly between me and the detective.

"With all due respect, Detective," he said, "if Cynthia hadn't been here, you wouldn't have noticed that guy in the hoodie approaching. Her alertness is what alerted your team."

Detective Susan's jaw tightened.

"That may be true," she said. "But it doesn't change the fact that civilians have no business being at an active scene. You both need to leave. Now."

"No," I said firmly.

Detective Susan's eyebrows shot up. "Excuse me?"

"I said no," I repeated, meeting her gaze steadily. "I'm not leaving."

"Ms. Cynclair…"

"Detective Susan," I interrupted, my voice shaking but determined. "I understand that you have protocols. I understand that I'm making your job harder. But please… please…try to imagine being in my shoes for just one moment."

I took a breath, trying to steady myself.

"My husband has been missing for five months," I continued. "The father of my son. For months, I've had no answers. No leads. Nothing. And now, suddenly, there's a trail. There's a possibility that we might actually find him."

My voice cracked.

"Wouldn't you be anxious?" I asked. "Wouldn't you be desperate to be here, to see this through, to know the moment there's any information?"

Detective Susan's expression softened slightly.

"I understand your position, Ms. Cynclair," she said, her tone gentler now. "But my priority is the safety of everyone involved. Including you."

"I'll stay out of the way," I promised. "I won't interfere with your work. I won't do anything to obstruct the investigation. I just... I need to be here. Please."

Detective Susan studied me for a long moment.

Then she sighed.

"Fine," she said. "You can stay. Both of you. But you stay by this car. You don't approach the scene. You don't interact with any evidence or witnesses. And if I tell you to move, you move immediately. Understood?"

"Understood," I said quickly. "Thank you."

Detective Susan nodded curtly and turned back toward the bushouse, speaking into her radio.

Kevin let out a breath beside me.

"That was risky," he said quietly.

"I don't care," I replied, my eyes fixed on the building where officers were now moving in and out. "I'm not leaving until we know something."

…

The man in the black hoodie had gotten away.

Despite the chase, despite having multiple officers pursuing him, he'd somehow managed to slip through their perimeter and disappear into the industrial wasteland surrounding the area.

I'd watched from beside Kevin's car, my heart sinking with every minute that passed without the officers returning with him in custody.

Who was he?

The questions circled endlessly in my mind.

But while the chase had failed, the search of the bushouse was thorough and methodical.

I watched officers move in and out, carrying evidence bags, taking photographs, documenting everything.

The forensics team arrived about twenty minutes later, their white vans pulling up as close to the building as they could get.

And I waited.

Kevin stayed beside me the entire time, occasionally offering water or suggesting I sit down in the car.

But I couldn't sit. Could barely breathe.

…

Detective Susan met us in the conference room, spreading several files across the table.

"We compared the DNA samples from the bushouse to the samples collected from the warehouse five months ago," she said without preamble.

My heart was pounding so hard I could barely hear her.

"We identified four DNA profiles from the warehouse," Detective Susan continued. "Yours. Ethan Walker's. Anna's. And Grace Walker's."

She paused.

"But there was a fifth profile," she said. "One we couldn't identify at the time because it wasn't in any database. No criminal record. No government files. Nothing."

"Pascal," I whispered.

"Correct," Detective Susan confirmed. "We assumed it was Pascal Walker, but we had no way to verify since he has no official records anywhere."

She pulled out another file.

"The DNA from the bushouse matches that unidentified fifth profile," she said. "Which means Pascal Walker has been living in that bushouse. Recently."

Hope surged through me, so powerful it was almost painful.

"He's still in Missford," I said.

"It appears so," Detective Susan agreed. "And if Pascal is here, there's a strong possibility Grace is nearby as well."

"And Ethan," I said, my voice breaking. "If they're here, Ethan might be here too."

Detective Susan's expression was carefully neutral.

"It's possible," she said. "Which is why we're reopening the investigation with full resources. Every available officer is being reassigned to this case. We're going to find Pascal Walker. And when we do, we're going to find out what happened to your husband."

Kevin gripped my hand tightly.

And for the first time in five months, I felt something I'd almost forgotten, real hope.

Pascal was here in Missford.

Which meant we were close.

So close.

We're coming, Ethan.