Suddenly, she heard the sound of a car engine again!
Startled, she quickly put on her coat and went out with an umbrella.
She thought it was Spencer Childe’s people returning.
But instead——
A black Rolls-Royce stopped at the entrance of the cetery, and Sylvan Cheney, wearing a black trench coat, jumped out with an umbrella.
The man in the dark was tall and stern-looking, but his face was unusually pale, haggard, even flustered. His fingers holding the umbrella were white, with deep shadows under his eyes.
The sound of Sylvan Cheney’s leather shoes fell on the ground as he strode toward Tor.
Soon after, Charles Mcintosh also got out from the passenger seat.
Tor felt a tug in his heart, and he shivered.
She already knew Sylvan Cheney’s intention.
"Mr. Cheney..." Tor wasn’t sure if he was cold or scared, and trembled as he spoke, "Why co back to the cetery so late?"
"Did anyone co here?" Sylvan Cheney’s deep eyes stared intently at Tor.
In the wee hours, an eerie chill filled the silence.
Charles Mcintosh walked to Sylvan Cheney’s side.
They had searched many places, and at 12:00 AM found Jasmine Yale’s dropped phone on a road.
Following that road, they split up to search but found nothing.
Most of the roads had surveillance, and after urgently pulling all the footage, they discovered Jasmine Yale might have been taken to the cetery.
When Sylvan Cheney suggested searching the cetery, Charles Mcintosh slapped his head—that was it.
If Spencer Childe took Jasmine Yale and discovered the truth, he would surely take her to the cetery.
The car drove up to the cetery this way.
Tor’s hands trembled, she hesitated for a few seconds, pretending to be calm, and said, "Mr. Cheney, who would co to the cetery this late?"
"Tor, you’ve never really been on my side." Sylvan Cheney sneered.
Upon stepping into the cetery, he slled the tallic scent of blood and gunpowder in the air, as if it had only recently faded away.
Without listening to another word from Tor, Sylvan Cheney strode toward the graves.
Tor’s complexion changed dramatically, turning deathly pale in an instant!
Charles Mcintosh shot a cold glance at Tor and followed Sylvan Cheney closely.
As Sylvan Cheney walked with an umbrella to the tombstone and saw a large pool of blood, his heart nearly stopped.
His pupils contracted, and his deep eyes instantly filled with crimson and murderous intent.
The blood was fresh.
Washed by the rain, it flowed down the gaps, staining the tombstone and grass red.
Sylvan Cheney clenched his fist, unable to breathe for a mont, as if his heart was being wrenched out.
His thin lips pressed tightly, he almost crushed the umbrella handle in his hand.
Fury and fear at their peak.
This ti, he might have lost Jasmine Yale forever...
Charles Mcintosh’s eyes also turned red, yes, he didn’t see it wrong, it was blood!
He strode toward Tor, grabbing her by the collar: "Tell , who ca?"
The umbrella slipped from Tor’s hand as Charles Mcintosh choked her until she couldn’t breathe, uttering only two gasps.
"Tell Mr. Cheney, who ca? Where did they go?"
Tor’s eyes widened, struggling, "Elder... Elder Childe..."
She dared not hide it from Sylvan Cheney anymore.
"It really was Spencer Childe." Charles Mcintosh cursed under his breath, calling the full na directly.
Spencer Childe hadn’t returned to Landon for years, who knew he’d co back this year.
"What did they do? Is the blood Miss Yale’s?" Charles Mcintosh continued to press.
Tor dared not hide it: "Miss... Miss Yale did... indeed co, and the blood... is hers."
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