My Beauty Collection: Starting from Banshee Town

Chapter 365 Soul Painter
"Thank you."

Dalia is now in charge of the house, and she is also full of energy.

Although she was sweating profusely, she still looked energetic. She took the coffee and sat on the sofa.

Rivera picked up the coffee and took a big sip, then patted her flushed face:

"Break time, I'll go take a shower."

After living at Ethan's house for a few days, she moved here.

It is more convenient to work upstairs and downstairs.

There are two rooms above the second floor, where Dahlia rests now and then occasionally.

Seeing Rivera's writhing waist disappear behind the small door, Dahlia put down her cup, smiled and winked at Ethan.

Ethan understood instantly, stood up quickly, and closed the front door glass.

Turning around, Dahlia had already gone upstairs.

He drank his coffee patiently and waited for 5 minutes before getting up and going upstairs.

When I came to the living room on the second floor, the door of the house near the balcony was ajar, and the sound of the water inside fluctuated, accompanied by melodious singing.

Pushing open the door, Rivera was pressing her hands on the transparent bathroom glass.

Water splashed in all directions, and bursts of water mist rose.

Seeing Ethan coming in, she shyly tried to break free, but was pushed forward by Dahlia, pressing her chest against the glass.

Dahlia was crouching behind her, toiling away.

Ethan raised an eyebrow and grinned.

"Boom."

The door was shut heavily.

After a busy day, the two of them fell asleep after being tormented.

Ethan was full of energy, turning the key ring and walking out of the flower shop.

It's getting dark now, and Siobhan is off work. Ethan just sent her a message, asking her to take the relevant case file home and study it by herself.

After all, it can be inferred from the current situation that the murderer is not simple.

He didn't bother to deal with ordinary crimes, but in this case, the murderer targeted civilians and even picked young and beautiful girls, which made Ethan a little annoyed.

Packed some food and drove to Siobhan's house.

A police car had already parked outside, and lights were on inside.

Knock on the door, and after a while, Siobhan opened the door wrapped in a towel.

"Hi."

Ethan handed out the lunch box in his hand: "I brought fried steak, dessert, and bread. I hope you like it."

"Great."

Siobhan took the lunch box and walked inside: "I'm so busy today, I haven't eaten much."

In the living room, Siobhan put the lunch box on the table and opened it, sat directly on the carpet, and handed him several folders:

"Let's see later, I just want to have a good meal."

"Ok."

Ethan put the blue folder aside, and the two of them took out the packed food together.

Two large portions of eye-in-the-bone, aka tomahawk steak, slathered in a savory sauce, along with several desserts and a green and fruit salad.

Siobhan didn't touch the steak at all, she put the desserts, bread and vegetable and fruit salad all in front of her.

"No way."

Ethan cut up some ruddy beef, put it in his mouth, and asked while eating, "You've been a policeman for so long, aren't you used to it?"

"Let you stare at those photos every day and try."

Siobhan's face turned pale: "Not to mention there are corpses, I'll talk after I finish eating, now you shut up."

"Ok."

Ethan had no choice but to pull the fruit plate on the table and put it between himself and Siobhan to block the meat.

"correct."

Siobhan picked up the remote control and turned on the TV: "Now the situation has escalated, and Brock is forced to hold a press conference."

She double-clicked the remote control to tune to the local news channel.

"Banshee Town, is in sorrow and danger."

Brock stood in front of the police station, holding several microphones in his hands. Under the incandescent light, his expression was heavy: "Three young women were brutally murdered."

"The one who killed them was a coward with a twisted heart who specialized in mutilating the weak."

Brock stared at the camera and said seriously:
"All members of the Banshee Township Police Department, as well as those from the FBI, are doing everything they can to track down the killer."

"However, the murderer has not been arrested yet. Here I appeal to the residents of the town not to travel alone in the near future to avoid unfortunate incidents."

"I assure everyone that the perpetrators of this series of cases will be traced to the end and the victims will be given the justice they deserve."

"The following words are for the murderer."

Brock took a step forward, his eyes became angry: "You are a complete coward."

"I don't understand who you think you are, but you'll always be a sad monster, something worse than a slug."

"We will definitely find you, I will put you down, and make sure that you will not have the opportunity to hurt others in the future."

After speaking, Brock nodded and returned the microphone.

The screen moved, and the on-site host introduced the general situation of the case.

Siobhan turned off the TV and crunched a cucumber.

"He looks like a sheriff, but it's not a smart choice." Ethan put the last piece of beef in his mouth:
"The murderer will take this as a personal provocation."

"There is no good way." Siobhan took a sip of red wine: "It's okay if the murderer is coming at us, at least we have a chance to capture him directly."

"That's not how people are arrested."

Seeing her finish eating, Ethan reached out and opened the file beside him: "That's too dangerous."

Inside the folder, there are also materials from the previous two cases.

Ethan picked up the photos of the details of the wound and looked at them carefully, and found that it was almost the same as what he observed today. The case files were all about the analysis of the victim's own situation.

According to forensic identification, it can be clearly confirmed in the first two cases that the victim was not sexually assaulted.

The body has also been processed, and there is no evidence left on it.

"The hands were very clean, and they were all done by the same person."

Ethan looked through the stack of photos in his hand and came to a conclusion.

He looked at Siobhan: "Didn't you judge that this was a cult's sacrificial ceremony before? What did you gain?"

"Do you know how many cults there are on this continent?"

Siobhan gritted his teeth and said, "There are countless sacrifice ceremonies like this."

"The special agent Phillips you know, he said that he has sent the photos and information back to the database for comparison, hoping to find common ground as soon as possible."

"That's right." Siobhan thought of something, stood up, walked aside and took the coat over.

She took out a piece of paper from her pocket and handed it to Ethan:

"Today we went to see a witness. He was a four or five-year-old child. He was frightened and couldn't communicate. The guardian didn't allow us to ask too much."

"But he was always drawing, and that's what he painted."

Ethan took the folded paper and opened it.

In the middle of the white paper, a very scribbled circle was drawn with a red paint pen. In order to make it more round, I had to circle it a few more times.

There is a lot of white space inside, and there are two red triangles.

Outside the red circle, two more pieces protruded.

Soul painter, very abstract.

(End of this chapter)