Discovering

They continued their investigation, Andy meticulously sifted through stacks of papers and tapped away at keyboards.

"During my investigation, Davies interjected, leaning forward over the table, his mother's name never came up. Why is she suddenly looking for him?".

Andy furrowing his brows in concentration, clarified "According to her, they have a strained relationship. So she just wanted to keep tabs on him."

Davies, wetting his lips, added, "Another thing I noticed, the wife never allowed the lawyer to read the will until just a few weeks ago."

"Oh really?" Andy raised an eyebrow.

"Hmm," Davies nodded," so the possibility of her involvement in the case is seamlessly

ruled out,".

"Yeah," Andy agreed, with a thoughtful expression, mused,

"Do you have a copy of his will?"

"Yes," Davies nodded, his fingers flying across the keyboards. " I had to obtain it somehow for reference purposes,". "Found it," he said finally.

"Send me a copy," Andy requested.

"Done already," Davies confirmed.

Meticulously scrutinizing the contents of the will, his brows furrowed in deep concentration, Andy remarked, "So, he made sure his wife and daughter had nothing to worry about."

"Hmmm" Davies remarked, "you know, I observed her for almost a week after the will was read. Nothing about her changed. Still running her bakery."

Andy nodded, intrigued. "Oh, speaking of the bakery, I got some cinnamon rolls and croissants there," Andy mentioned casually.

Davies quickly interjected, "Where are they, man? Those pastries are to die for, heavenly!" He stood up, eagerly retrieved a brown bag Andy had brought, unrolled it to reveal the tantalizing treats within. With each bite, he savored them with evident joy, gesturing emphatically with the rolls in hand. "Each time I have these, I always want more. Let my little paycheck not go down into her pastries," he quipped, eliciting laughter from both of them..

Andy, intrigued by Davies' enthusiasm, couldn't resist asking, "Are they really that good?"

"Oh, absolutely. Once you've tasted them, you'll understand. There's something about her pastries that keeps you coming back for more, saying with a glint of satisfaction in his eyes, while nodding emphatically.

Handing some to him, Davies watched intently as Andy took a bite, his expression morphed into one of delight, a smile gracing his face.

"Hmm, this is good. I can't quite describe it, but it's delicious," Andy remarked between bites.

Davies grinned, nodding in agreement, "She's renowned as the best dessert maker in Silvervale, and what's more her prices are incredibly reasonable. It's no wonder everyone in town loves her pastries."

Andy savored the pastry, its sweet aroma mingling with the air as he chewed thoughtfully. "It is good," he finally remarked, a sense of admiration evident in his tone. "She's a strong woman; I admire her for that.

"Let me call Mrs. Cody to inform her of everything so far. She may want to come around to pay her last respects to her son. At least we know now nobody killed her son."

"I'd like to visit the site where the accident took place," Andy stated, his voice tinged with a mix of curiosity and resolve.

"We can go there tomorrow," Davies assured him, his tone steady and reassuring.

Andy dialed Mrs. Cody's number, anticipation hung in the air, mingled with a hint of apprehension. Yet after just two rings, silence greeted them. He furrowed his brow, concern flickering across his features, she might be sleeping, he thought, before he rose from his seat and made his way to the balcony, with Davies trailing behind.

The two friends stood side by side, their silhouettes cast against the backdrop of the setting sun. Davies,is a man in his thirties with a rugged charm, he observed Andy with a mixture of understanding and concern. They had been through so much together, their bond forged in the crucible of shared experiences.

Andy, his demeanor reflective, gazed out into the distance, his thoughts drifting like wisps of smoke carried on the evening breeze.

Davies broke the silence, emerging onto the balcony with two glasses of red wine in hand. He offered one to Andy, the gesture a silent invitation to share in a moment of camaraderie amidst the uncertainty that lay ahead. "Are you planning on staying here permanently?" he ventured, his voice tinged with a hint of curiosity.

Andy's response was measured, his gaze fixed on the horizon as he took a slow sip of wine. "I don't know," he admitted, his tone tinged with a note of introspection. "But I feel really drawn to this place. It feels like home."

Their conversation ebbed and flowed like the tide, punctuated by moments of shared laughter and quiet contemplation. And as the evening wore on, they found solace in each other's company, united by the unspoken bond that bound them together—a bond forged not only by friendship, but by the trials and tribulations they had faced side by side.

In Willow Spring, when Mrs. Cody awoke from her exhaustion, it was late into the night. Holding her head, she felt as though her head was splitting in two, unable to recall the last time she felt this weak and tired. Sitting down on the bed, she surveyed her surroundings, her gaze falling upon the phone beside her. Several missed calls from both Andy and Anderson, among others, greeted her, the time displayed indicating it was past 3 am. "I'll return the calls in the morning," she muttered to herself, her voice barely above a whisper.

With a sense of unease settling in, Mrs. Cody searched for water but found none. Switching on the light, she slipped on her shoes and decided to venture downstairs in search of a drink. Opening the door, the silence enveloped her, prompting her to forgo turning on the lights and instead cautiously descended the stairs, her hand firmly gripping the railing. As she reached the final steps, she detected faint movements emanating from the kitchen. Fear creeping in, she reached for a nearby baton, her steps deliberate and silent as she approached the source of the sound.

Entering the kitchen without a sound, Mrs. Cody's eyes widened in surprise as she spotted her butler and Anderson.

What are you doing here?" Mrs. Cody's voice rang out, a mixture of confusion and lacing her words

Startled by her sudden voice, both men fumbled with the glass and container in their hands, the clattering noise echoing in the quietness of the night.

They froze, their expressions betraying a sense of guilt as they exchanged uneasy glances. Caught off guard, they struggled to formulate a coherent response, their movements tense and hesitant in the dimly lit kitchen.