Los Angeles Legendary Sleuth

The white Volvo was registered in the name of Yovon Alte.

Yovon Alte originally had a significant potential motive.

Previously, there was no evidence to prove his involvement in the case, but now, the photo provided by Mrs. Smith was enough to demonstrate that he was implicated.

The police also had a reason to investigate him.

...

176 Porter community.

The Alte family home.

Today was Sunday, and the entire Yovon Alte family was at home, resting.

The family of three was busy with their own things on weekdays, only gathering together on Sundays.

They were all accustomed to sleeping in on Sunday mornings.

They didn't start having breakfast until after nine in the morning.

More accurately, it should be called a brunch, as by the time they finished eating and chatting, it would probably be ten o'clock.

They wouldn't have lunch today, as they had plans to attend a barbecue party with the neighbors in the afternoon.

Yovon Alte's son, Terry, was currently in the 9th grade, nearly 175cm tall, a bit taller than Shirley.

Looking at his mother, Terry asked, "What did the police want from you yesterday?"

Shirley bit into a waffle and put it back on her plate, "Adult matters are none of a child's concern."

Terry put down his glass of milk, "I am also a member of this family.

Plus, I'm in high school now. I have a sound mind and can clearly distinguish right from wrong. I'm not the little kid you speak of anymore."

"Is that so? Then have you finished your homework? If not, you'd better get to it after breakfast. Otherwise, you're going nowhere today."

Terry spread his hands and looked at his father, "Dad, don't you want to say something?"

"Dear, Terry has a point. We're a family, and we were worried when we saw you being taken away by the police.

We care about you," Yovon Alte said with a hint of complaint and concern.

Shirley sighed, "I signed a confidentiality agreement, and the police do not allow me to tell anyone else."

Yovon Alte countered, "Are your son and I just anyone to you?"

Upon hearing her husband and son's words, Shirley felt a little guilty, "No, you're my family, my dearest ones.

Uh, I didn't mean to hide it, I just wanted to find the right opportunity to tell you.

The night before last, I was taking a client to see a house, and a murder happened in that community.

It wasn't until yesterday morning that the police received the report. They couldn't catch the murderer and were searching for witnesses.

Since I drove to that community and I'm not a resident there... that's why I became a subject of investigation.

Yes, I know it's unlucky, but that's what happened."

Yovon Alte asked out of concern, "Did they consider you a witness or a suspect?"

Shirley frowned slightly and said helplessly, "I think both. They asked me a lot of questions, like where was I the night before, whether I knew the victim or not.

They had me describe everything I saw and heard, and then let me go."

A relieved expression appeared on Terry's face, "So that's what it was. Now I can relax."

Yovon Alte said, "Honey, try to take clients to see houses during the day from now on. Even though Los Angeles has some of the toughest law enforcement, it's still risky to go out at night."

Shirley let out a sigh, "I would like to make appointments with clients during the day, but some of them work then and are only available in the evening.

That's the service industry for you, sometimes there's just no choice."

Yesterday, after Shirley returned home from the police station, her husband and son kept asking about the situation, but she was still too panicked to figure out how to explain it.

After a night's sleep, she calmed down and thought of an explanation.

Yovon Alte took his wife's hand, "Dear, don't work too hard. My income is sufficient for our family's expenses."

"It is sufficient, but it doesn't leave us much savings.

Terry will be going to college in two years, and I hope he can go to a better one.

The situation is different between America and China.

In China, the better the university, the lower the cost.

In America, it's the exact opposite; the better the university, the higher the price.

Terry rolled his eyes, "Mom, don't put all the responsibility on me. I can apply for a loan for college."

Shirley looked at her son and shook her head, "I don't want you to be under too much pressure. College should be the best time of your life, meant to be enjoyed, not spent worrying about where to work part-time."

Yovon Alte smiled and looked at his son, "I envy you for having such a good mom.

My own mom didn't have that kind of awareness.

To pay off my student loans sooner, I worked at McDonald's for a year and washed dishes in a restaurant for another."

The atmosphere was relaxed and pleasant as the family of three conversed, looking to any outsider like the epitome of a warm and loving home.

"Ding-dong..." The doorbell rang.

All three of them froze.

The memories of the previous day came flooding back.

Shirley stood up, feigning ease, "Gentlemen, I'll leave the chore of clearing the tableware to you two.

I'll go and answer the door."

Yovon Alte looked worried, "Honey, do you want me to come with you?"

"No, it's probably just the neighbors inviting us to the party. Just relax."

"You're right, it's in the past. There are murders in Los Angeles almost every day; there's no need to worry."

Shirley went to the door, checked the video phone, and saw two familiar figures standing outside— the same two police officers who had taken her away the day before.

Fuck!

The thing she was worried about had happened.

Her feelings were complex: anger, helplessness, fear... The peace of her life that had just been restored was likely to be shattered by the police's return.