Dear Wife, Please Don't CryChapter 1
When I was tortured to death by criminals, my wife, Stacey Tucker, was watching a movie with her lover.
When she received my call for help, she scolded me impatiently.
"Go to hell. Don't disturb my date with Jacky."
I breathed a sigh of relief. Luckily Stacey didn't come over.
Three days later, Stacey investigated a shocking murder case.
She speculated that this was a typical vendetta, the murderer was an old hand, and the victim had suffered horrific mental and physical abuse before his death.
Her analysis was completely correct.
The only thing she didn't figure out was that the deceased was her most hated husband.
Three days later, the police received a report from a stranger.
Stacey quickly ended her annual leave to accompany her lover, and rushed to the crime scene with the team.
The smell of blood from the abandoned factory was unbearable.
Stacey looked at the corpses scattered all over the crime scene. Her delicate face was gloomy.
"It's too cruel. This must be a revenge killing."
Her leader, Peter, was serious. He knew the meaning of the word.
"Are you sure?"
Stacey nodded and frowned.
"Based on the amount of blood on the ground and the festering skin of the deceased, the deceased should have been whipped to death."
I was floating in the air and couldn't help but want to applaud.
Stacey was awesome.
That was how the murderer tortured me!
Peter's face was cold.
"What about the information of the deceased?"
Stacey lowered her head and began to piece together the broken bones on the ground. After a while, she whispered.
"From the broken bones and the severed palm, it can be inferred that the deceased was a male... Unfortunately, the skull is missing. But the deceased should be around 30 years old, six feet tall. And there is a mole on his left arm."
Having said this, Stacey hesitated for a moment.
I was floating in the air, worried.
I thought, "Stacey, please find out that it's me!
"They acted as a gang.
"The murderer's next target is you!"
Finally, Stacey's assistant pointed to the two broken palms on the ground.
"Miss Tucker, the red nail polish on these two severed palms looks like it was just painted. The murderer must be a man. His skills are so poor."
Stacey said, "Let me see."
Stacey picked up the broken palm and began to look at it. Suddenly a hint of doubt flashed in her eyes.
I held my breath nervously.