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🕑 Added 2025-04-27 05:38:13 +0000 UTCAnatomy of a Killer
Chapter 65 - The Roadside Mystery 6
Larry thought through all the possibilities, reaching a fairly accurate conclusion. But before speaking up, he wanted to know what the others thought: "What could there be in a house like this that's worth digging around for?"
Ángel didn't find Larry's question out of place. Instead, he focused on profiling the criminals, as he had been learning to do, and pointed at the ground: "The land we're standing on."
"That's right. The most valuable thing now is this old house!"
Masuka thought this made a lot of sense.
All the communities and tourist areas around the city were expropriating land for construction. In other words, this land was being bought up and was now worth a lot of money.
"According to the news, they're planning to modernize this area to attract more tourists and people who want to live here. This is considered an economic driver for the surrounding regions."
"If they're planning to develop this land, the properties will cost a fortune."
Larry knew the best option for these people was to sell and buy a better home in more developed communities.
This method always happens in the most developed areas when companies run out of land to build on.
For a long time, this way of developing the country had caused many towns that had existed for thousands of years to vanish overnight.
What was even more heartbreaking for many — particularly people living outside the cities — was that now owning a house was much harder than getting an apartment in a residential building.
Adapting to the new social classes was painful for people who had lived off the sea, the land, and the sky. No matter how much the local government tried to educate and inform these older people, they often turned a deaf ear, always hoping to exploit government loopholes.
But that wasn't the case with the younger generation, who urgently needed money to support their new families. Many were simply waiting for their parents to die to inherit the land and finally sell it.
At least in Miami, this rural area was the closest one to the city that still remained untouched. However, that was about to change.
"Start looking from that angle. I want to know if there have already been land sale deals happening."
Larry didn't have much experience in these matters. Still, he knew that Masuka and Ángel's theories could be correct — after all, this case seemed simpler than he had initially thought.
"I'll check if this house is still owned by its original owner. If it's been sold recently, we'll know who to contact."
"Let's start there," Larry said, not offering any further suggestions, as this course of action seemed right.
During their conversation, they hadn’t avoided the crowd of elderly villagers nearby. One of the village committee members quickly approached them.
"Our community is against selling! We've banded together to defend our homes!"
"Well, it seems someone got ahead of you and accepted an offer."
"That's absurd..."
Larry left the house and, seeing Debra talking to some police officers, asked:
"Anything new?"
"No, nothing yet."
"Then come with me. We're going to the victim’s uncle’s house."
Debra, excited about how the investigation was progressing, asked: "Did you find something?"
"Just the basics. We believe whoever broke into the victim’s house to steal her belongings might be connected to the murder," Ángel quickly answered Debra’s questions.
Meanwhile, Jimmy was still a bit bitter about missing the chance to catch the Ice Truck Killer.
A few minutes later, a group of police officers stood in front of a beautiful wooden house.
The large iron gate, painted red, was closed, creating a stark contrast between this house and the victim's.
"I'll handle it," Debra said. As soon as she knocked, a dog started barking and a very tired voice called out:
"Who is it?"
"Sandra, is that you? It's Ryan, Josh’s friend. Open the door." A community member offered to help with the investigation.
After a while, the dog stopped barking, as if it had been locked up.
Through the gate under the iron archway, two legs could be seen — a woman’s. She quickly came out, dressed sloppily.
A slightly stocky woman named Sandra peeked her head out and looked outside with clear impatience.
"What now? Nothing good ever happens when you show up at my door, you damn busybody! Tell me, what is it this time? My husband owes you money, doesn't he? God forgive me, but I swear I'll beat him like a punching bag when he gets home."
The old man helping the detectives looked visibly embarrassed.
Debra, standing at the front, seemed surprised.
"No, these are police officers. They have some questions about your husband’s brother."
Only then did Sandra notice the group of people in suits standing next to the old man she hated.
When she opened the door, they all entered.
At a glance, the yard was spacious, the ground paved and very clean. Under the south-side shed, there were four or five crates of beer and several bags full of grain, stacked more than a dozen high. They seemed to live quite well.
Following Sandra into the house, the room looked recently renovated, with a strong smell of paint. There was a circle of wooden sofas and a huge television mounted on the west wall.
Larry and Ángel, as if it were routine, sat on a sofa.
"Do I have the entire police department in my house? I should bring more chairs..." Sandra said, clearly annoyed, seemingly unaware of the trouble she was in.
"No need, just sit down. We have a few questions for you," Larry said, then glanced at Ángel and asked:
"Don’t you need to use the bathroom? Now's the perfect time."
"Oh, sure..." Ángel stood up and casually walked toward the second floor without asking anything.
Debra, meanwhile, was looking around.
"Do you have a warrant?" Sandra asked.
"He just needs to empty his stomach, trust me, we've been working all day without rest..."
Larry pulled out a recorder, hit record, and asked:"Where’s your husband?"
The woman lowered her head and became much more submissive, glancing warily at Larry and the officers.
"He drives a milk truck. He's been on the road all week, and if there are no delays, he should be back soon."
Taking advantage of the moment when the woman lowered her gaze, Larry studied her and continued the interrogation: "What's your name?"
"Sandra Morales."
"When was the last time you saw Sandra Morales?"
"Ah, mid-last month! She said she was going to attend a training course to become a hairdresser and asked me to help look after her father — just to take care of his meals."
"Did you introduce Dina to her boyfriend?"
"Huh? What happened?" Sandra’s face turned pale.
"Answer the question!" Larry’s tone grew harsh and cold.
"I introduced her to her boyfriend."
"Tell me about him."
"Dina’s boyfriend is Brian, a quality inspector at Lincoln Steel Structures Company, east of here. He's handsome and comes from a good family. They’ve been together for a while."
"How long?"
"They met at the end of 2005, right before Christmas, and got back together shortly afterward."
Larry wanted to wrap up this case as soon as possible to focus on investigating Dexter and finding his brother — the only way to settle their unfinished business.
That’s why he was unusually aggressive with his questions.
Debra, who had only seen Larry work once before, was amazed at the criminal profiler’s skills. He could predict most of the answers in just a few minutes, and every answer turned out to be spot-on.
"Has Brian come to see Dina recently?"
"How should I know?"
"I think you know exactly what I mean."
"What happened?"
Crack!
Larry slammed the glass table and shouted: "Answer the damn question or you’ll get into trouble you won’t be able to get out of!"
Sandra, who had seemed like a fierce woman, quickly nodded under Larry’s aggressive stance.
"He’s never been here!"
"Where’s Dina’s father?"
"My brother-in-law? He wanders around. He leaves after breakfast and usually returns around dinner time."
Larry frowned and asked: "Why do I get the feeling you haven’t seen Dina’s father these past few days?"
"That’s not true..."
"The truth is, you don’t care what happens to that poor man. So let's be honest from now on: Why did you enter Dina’s house, and what do you know about her death?"
"She died?" Sandra went pale.
"What were you looking for in her closet?"
Sandra was so frightened that she trembled all over, waving her hands quickly.
"I didn’t do it! It must have been that crazy man..."
Larry stood up, pulled out some handcuffs, and said: "Did you know that by touching anything, you leave traces like fingerprints, hair, or sweat? These are irrefutable pieces of evidence. Since you’ve already expressed your intention, let me inform you: you have the right to remain silent. Anything you say from now on can and will be used against you. You also have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford one, the State will provide one for you."
Handing the handcuffs to a nearby officer, Larry said: "Take the suspect to the station. Have Masuka run a DNA test and have the sergeant handle the interrogation."
