Chapter 73

Before Jaxon could finish speaking, the call ended. He hadn't expected Aurora to be so bold as to hang up on him. Enraged, he smashed his phone to the ground, shattering it and scratching the wooden table legs with the broken screen. The servants in Crawford Manor, terrified, remained silent. One servant mused, "It seems Aurora has angered Mr. Crawford again. With Mrs. Crawford and Maura absent, no one can mediate. Our lives will be difficult."

Jaxon's face flushed with anger. He abandoned his plans to call Maura and stormed up to the third floor. He thought, Aurora is becoming increasingly defiant. I must act and seize the opportunity to obtain Victoria's belongings. Then, Aurora will be inconsequential.

He lay on the bed, fantasizing about how he would spend the vast sum of money. His excitement prevented him from sleeping.

Meanwhile, Aurora slept soundly in her hotel room. After washing, she resumed her research.

Morning arrived, the golden sunlight spreading across the land. As dusk approached, painting the sky crimson, the weekend drew to a close, heralding the return of the dreaded workday.

A knock sounded on the door of the quiet laboratory. Aurora opened it and handed two medicine bottles to Giles. "This is the medication I developed for hair loss. Take it to the testing institute tomorrow; request expedited processing. I need a report by Tuesday morning."

Treating hair loss? Giles touched his thinning hair, touched. "Ms. Whitaker, is this effective? How is it used?" His hair had thinned considerably since becoming general manager of Sunrise Pharmaceuticals, and he dreaded impending baldness. He was still young; he didn't want that.

"One is for oral use, the other for external application," Aurora explained, pointing to the bottles. "Take one pill three times daily; apply the external medication to a warm towel and wrap your—"

"Ms. Whitaker, do you have any left? I'd like to try it," Giles interrupted. A successful trial would make him a prime advertisement. Aurora, sensing his thoughts, smiled. "Aren't you waiting for the test results?" The medicine was newly made, and the batch number wasn't approved yet. It was, technically, illegal.

Giles smiled, shifting the conversation to a business perspective. "Ms. Whitaker, are you planning to use this as Sunrise Pharmaceuticals' flagship product?"

Aurora nodded. He continued, "This is your first product since joining the company. I don't believe you'd act without purpose."

The implication was clear: Aurora wouldn't introduce this medication unless it held significant promise.

Pleased, Aurora produced two more bottles. "I've only used it for two days, and haven't seen any effect yet. You can try it. Maybe—"

"Maybe it will work wonders," Giles finished, then smiled self-deprecatingly. "You have thick hair; it wouldn't show an obvious effect. But my hair is thinning considerably."

Aurora smiled and shook her head, a rare instance of levity. "You're the general manager of Sunrise Pharmaceuticals. Many consider you a promising young talent. Your hair won't diminish your appeal."

They chatted and laughed as they left the building, aware of the important business awaiting them.

In a Mereida hotel's presidential suite, a technician typed, the computer screen's cold light illuminating his serious face. A mobile phone lay on the table; data was being extracted via a connected cable. The phone belonged to Holt; Dexter, having concealed it from the police, had hired a hacker to analyze it.

"Got it," the hacker announced.

Dexter and John listened. "The last call was from a man named Frey at six in the morning; Holt contacted him most frequently."

The hacker checked Frey's information. "Frey Jones, owner of an underground casino. Holt owed him a considerable sum. They contacted each other almost every two days."

Dexter nodded; he knew this. Frey's pressure had made it easier to persuade Holt. But Holt was dead, and the murderer remained at large. Dexter thought, If Frey killed Holt, he must know my aunt's whereabouts.

"Besides Frey, did anyone else contact Holt?"

"Holt had gambling friends, loan sharks, and family members. The call history is here." The printer whirred. John surveyed the densely packed phone numbers. "Holt was busy," he sneered.

Dexter dismissed the hacker. "Check them one by one. I won't let the murderer escape."

John raised the printout. "Mr. Whitaker, why would the murderer leave Holt's phone?" He suspected a conspiracy.

Dexter paused, recalling Holt's body. "Holt likely died between 6:30 and 7:00 a.m. The phone might have fallen during a struggle. The murderer may not have had time to retrieve it." It was peak morning exercise time near Bradley Mountain; the murderer likely lacked the time to search for the phone.

John agreed. "Mr. Whitaker, rest. We have the Sunrise Pharmaceuticals negotiation tomorrow."

Dexter waved him off. "Terminating the contract is simple; it won't take long." The contract allowed for unconditional termination if Sunrise's leadership changed. Dexter's presence would suffice.

John hesitated. "But Mr. Harrison…" He worried that Jaxon, having given away his shares, might react angrily to the contract termination.