Chapter 8

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The news about the shootout that took place at the Derrand mansion last night spread like wildfire the next morning. It even made the front page of the local newspaper and people couldn't help but wonder. Some who were invited to the party had their own story to tell, but they couldn't figure out why the shootout had taken place. With that, everyone started to make their own assumptions. Were the gunmen trying to rob the mansion or was there something else? No one who had attended the party sustained any injuries except the two security guards who were found dead within the mansion grounds. Nothing seemed to be adding up.

There was more to it than the situation at hand and people thought it might be about the Derrand family. Had they made enemies who were willing to kill them? Maybe so. As the morning wore on, some locals got to work and forgot about the incident hoping that the police will turn up with something but some still couldn't stop talking about it. And as usual rumours started to spread about the Derrands. No one knew what was really going on, except from a few individuals.

And apparently, one of those individuals was sitting on the couch in their own living room reading the front page of the newspaper with a cup of coffee in hand. In the article, the police hadn't found any clues and were still investigating. That was a relief. If anyone had any clue about what was really going on, all hell would break loose.

"You've a phone call," came Miss Griselda's voice, "it's Malcom."

Rhénee dropped the newspaper on her lap and took the phone from Miss Griselda who was standing right beside her. Before Rhénee could place the phone to her ear, she took a sip of coffee.

"Hey, Malcom," said Rhénee, "are the police still at your house?"

"Ya, it's crazy here," replied Malcom, "didn't sleep the whole night. The police even had to search all the rooms in the mansion fearing that the gunmen might have broken in."

"If only they knew."

"Ya. But it has to stay quiet. No one should know what is really going on."

"And what about your mother? Didn't she get suspicious about my disappearance last night?"

"She did. I had to make up a story that you and Greta rushed up to the rooms upstairs and went out the moment the police came and told everyone to leave."

"I doubt if she believed that."

"Haha, looks like you know my mum already. She just had to believe what Greta and I told her. No one could've left with gunshots all over the place."

"True. But we did. I just hope my mum doesn't get to find out about this. She would freak and she might come here to stay with me or force me to come home with her."

"The news will obviously get to her in one way or another. You just stay safe, okay?"

Rhénee couldn't help but smile. "I'll. Say hi to Greta for me, would you?"

"I sure will," Malcom chuckles, "I'll see you when all this dies down."

"Okay, bye."

"Bye."

Rhénee cuts the call and realises that Miss Griselda was still standing beside her. With the look on her face, Rhénee could tell that Miss Griselda had not slept a wink last night.

"Miss Griselda, you look awfully tired," said Rhénee, standing up from the couch. "I think you should sleep for a few hours."

"I wasn't going to forgive myself if anything ever happened to you, my dear," Miss Griselda said, "I have always known that Mrs Derrand was up to no good at all."

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