You are my precious obsession

Chapter 8

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It's an headache that the victim count increased from seventeen to nineteen so quickly. I waited patiently for the victim's close friends in my office to question them. No unnecessary questions, I only wanted to know who he was interested in before he died.

And Hannah who sat back in the other end of my office, was lost in the novel she's reading. I sighed, aside this whole murder case thing, there was another thing that was bothering me. Her.

She wouldn't just ask to stay with me if there wasn't something very wrong bothering her. But this idiot wouldn't tell me what it is!

But something in the back of my mind told me it has got to do something with that bastard of a boyfriend she has. She just said she won't disturb me and sat in the opposite corner of my office, but, all my mind is occupied with is what the hell is bothering her?

I literally can't think of anything else!

"Excuse me, sir?" A voice shook me off my never ending thoughts of what the hell was bothering her.

My gaze fell upon a group of men standing nervously by my office's doorway. I beckoned to them for them to come in, they must be the friend group I'm expecting.

"Take a seat." I offered them. The five of them sat down opposite to me, certainly anxious.

This time, skipping all the other questions, I went straight for the important one. "Was your friend interested in some girl these past few weeks?"

They stared at eachother then finally turned back to me. "You're not going to ask if we did it or something?" One of the guys questioned.

I shook my head, being patient. "No, just answer my question, please." I requested. If my speculation was right, then they would know someone their friend was interested in.

"I guess," One of them shrugged, and the other one continued. "He wasn't shutting up about a girl he met in a cafe."

I'm right. So this girl is the killer.

"Do you know how she looks like?" I asked, a little too desperately.

"We were there when he was swooning over how cute she looked." They answered. Finally, some hope that I could solve this impossible looking case filled me. "So, we do remember how she looks like."

"Yes!" I cheered, more to myself then turned back to the group. "Can you describe her to my sketch artist?"

They looked at eachother again and then around the office. "But," one of them frowned, pointing his finger accross the room. "You already have her here."

My gaze followed his finger and landed on none other than Hannah. I blinked. What the hell?

"She looked like her?" I asked in an attempt to make sense of what they were saying.

"No," he resented, lowering his finger. "That's her."

My mouth opened and closed a several times, my brain short-circuiting. "A-Are you sure? This isn't the time to joke." I warned them.

They unfortunately weren't backing down. "We are serious, sir. She is the girl. I don't know why you are asking these question, but we know what we saw."

I closed my jaw which was dropped a few moments ago and rubbed my neck. "Okay, thank you for giving me your time and information." I waved them off. They exited my office.

Now my eyes fell onto the only other person in the room, my mind filling with so many questions. Is my bestfriend of fifteen years, a psychopathic murderer I have been searching for all this time?

While a literal storm of chaos was going on in my mind, she was just chilling with her book, not knowing what she was now tangled in. I got up from my seat and paced to her, trying not to freak out.

"Hannah, please tell me you have a twin."

She looked up from her book. "What nonsense are you talking about? You know I'm a single child." She frowned and went back to reading her book. "What's with this weird question out of the blue?"

"Nothing." I said too quickly, my voice anything but steady.

"Henry, is something wrong?" She shut her book and kept it aside. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

"I-I uhh, I'm fine. Everything's fine." I stuttered with a stupid smile. Everything was far from being 'fine'. I told her to stay here and read that damn book and rushed out of my office.

Leaning over a wall, I calmed myself down to think more rationally. Can she actually murder a person? No, nineteen people?

Thinking of it that way, the probability of her actually murdering someone is nearly zero. This girl is just as she looks like, innocent and too kind for her own good.

I once witnessed her tearing up for a fly she accidentally swatted for god's sake! If she can't even hurt a fly without feeling guilty, then how in the world can she hurt, no, kill those people that brutally?

It's simply not possible.

Yes, maybe I am not convinced she is the murderer cause she's my bestfriend. I have known her for fifteen damn years. I know her. R-Right?

Shaking my head lightly, I massaged my temples. I couldn't think rationally at all, I was getting emotional for no reason. So, I walked to the room beside me, which was Penelope's office.

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