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Chapter 297 Where Did You Hide Her?!
“100%, Mr. Brighthall. Going down there in this weather was no piece of cake, sir. We wouldn’t resurface. without any results unless there was no result to begin with,” the diver answered. “Honestly, this is my first time seeing something like this. Not a single body inside a car skidded into the sea-that’s just creepy!”
“Maybe the body got moved elsewhere by the current?” someone else asked.
The man shook his head. “Hell no. The windows were shut, man. No one could have pushed the car open against water pressure after the entire vehicle plunged into the sea. The only plausible explanation is that
no one was in the car when it went down.”
“No one was inside.’
It felt like an explosion in Brendan’s chest. He could not even tell if most of it was joy or sorrow-all he knew was that it soared straight into his skull and caused the world to spin before his eyes. He felt ready to black out altogether.
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Deirdre was not dead.
He reeled in realization. Instinctively, he concluded that it had been a setup-Deirdre’s fake-out to kill his attachment to her. He remembered her getting into this exact vehicle as soon as she had left the station and became convinced that none of this was a coincidence.
He hugged the fabric on his chest tightly to keep himself from fainting. Eyes red, he ordered Sam, “I want you to find out who else Deirdre had talked to other than you and me at the police station!”
Sam did as he was told while Brendan returned to the car. Being exposed to the elements had dealt a blow to his body, so he felt cold, then hot, then cold again. His fingertips were trembling uncontrollably. And yet, in an almost twisted way, Brendan felt as though he had just been resurrected from the edge of death and despair.
Because Deirdre was still alive. She had faked her death and fooled everyone.
God, the cruelty! Had she had no idea just how much pain and grief she would cause him? Or was that the exact reason she had done it? Because she had wanted him dead.
His body was boiling at fever point, and his head was ringing from pain.
He did not even know when he collapsed. All he knew was that, after battling his fever to a standstill for days, the fever finally garnered enough force to break out of him now.
The next time Brendan opened his eyes, he was already lying down on the living room couch. Dr. Ginger was by his side, and his phone kept ringing nearby.
He forced himself up, endured the discomfort, and picked up the call. Sam took a deep breath and said, Mr. Brighthall? I found him. A man came to see Miss McKinnon before she disappeared. That man…. had contacted Madame Brighthall before.”
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It was all it took for Brendan to barge into the old family residence.
Madame Brighthall hardly looked perturbed. Even as her near-hysterical son stood some distance away, eyes beet-red, she continued praying, her fingers laced around the rosary beads. The housekeeper, who had failed to stop Brendan from breaking in, stood awkwardly aside and glanced at Madame Brighthall helplessly,
The older woman frowned, looking unimpressed. “Where is the grace and composure one expects from the Brighthall scion and CEO of Brighthall Group? This is an embarrassment.”
Charlene was standing by Madame Brighthall’s side too. As soon as the older woman rose, she quickly helped her up, even as she trained a mortified glance in Brendan’s direction.
Brendan’s face was eerily pale. Despite the signs of his sickness on full display, he leveled a steady gaze at his mother’s face and stepped forward, demanding, “Where is Deirdre? Where did you hide her?!”
Madame Brighthall said nothing, but Charlene’s expression darkened. Was Deirdre not dead already? She turned, catching a glimpse of the older woman’s mien, and felt her heart sink.
Madame Brighthall patted her dress and smoothened it. “I’m afraid I don’t understand your question. What does Deirdre have to do with me? She’s dead, isn’t she? For your own sake, please control your
hysterics.”
Brendan seemed to have already expected his mother to handwave his accusation. He closed his eyes, willing his head to stop spinning, before opening them again. He stared at her frigidly. “Does the name’ Jay Long’ ring any bells? ‘Course it does. You sent him to talk to Deirdre and fake her death. You’re. welcome to deny your involvement, Mom, but there’s literally nothing to stop me from abducting Jay to question him right now. I’m feeling very, very pissed too, so if he leaves with his arms broken or anything, that’s not really on me.”
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