"Thank you for your cooperation."

Roger smiles and says goodbye to Travis' mother.

"You are Betty's friend, and you are also my friend."

The attitude of the middle-aged woman eased a lot, and even sent Roger to the door.

Opening the door, the afterglow of the setting sun sprinkled on the edge of the house, casting a faint red light.

In the distance, a group of people were huddling towards the depths of the swamp. In a trance, Roger felt that a figure walking in front looked somewhat similar to Betty.

"Are you going to the swamp at this late hour?"

Roger asked casually.

"This is our custom here. Only at midnight can we hear the call of our ancestors and get in touch with the gods."

Roger nodded his head and left without saying anything.

He drove the car out of the gathering place, the sun in the sky gradually disappeared, and the surroundings became dark.

Driving the car to a bush on the side of the road, Roger broke some branches and covered it.

After doing this, he packed his things and quietly returned to the gathering place.

It was not convenient for him to ask about many things just now, so he planned to sneak in and investigate.

When it was completely dark, Roger made a big circle and slowly approached Travis' house.

Taking advantage of the cover of the night, he used the tools provided by Henrik to pry open a window on the second floor and slipped in quietly.

He was like a civet cat, making no sound at all.

A woman's prayer came from downstairs.

Roger listened carefully, and found that it was a language he had never heard before, and the voice was short and dull.

There are a total of 4 rooms on the second floor. Roger opened one of them. The furniture in the room looked old, but it was well taken care of. It looked like it should be the master bedroom.

Roger walked forward, and gently pushed open a door on the opposite side.

The lights were not turned on, and the room was dark, but this did not affect Roger's sight, single bed, desk computer.

Obviously this is Travis's room, and the room should be cleaned regularly, so it has been a while since Travis died, but the room doesn't look messy.

Roger closed the door and quickly rummaged through the room.

Travis is black, and Danielle is white. With the exclusiveness of this small town, it is absolutely impossible for Travis' mother to allow her son to find a white girl as his girlfriend.

Roger carefully rummaged through the pages of the books, the corners of the room, the bottom of the bed, and the drawers, but unfortunately found nothing.

"Aren't there any traces left?"

At this moment, there was a sound of footsteps on the other side of the stairs, and Roger was shocked. Travis's room was facing the corridor, and it was too late for him to rush out now.

With a quick glance, Roger moved behind the door.

Behind the door is a simple hanger, which should be full of Travis's clothes, but now it is empty, and there is no way to hide a person.

The footsteps stopped at the door.

Roger took a deep breath. If Travis' mother really found him, then he could only run away.

This happened, the middle-aged woman was already having a hard time, and Roger didn't want to get into a confrontation with her.

"Squeak!"

The door was opened.

The woman's shadow instantly filled the room.

Roger is always ready.

But at this moment, the middle-aged woman stepped forward and closed the door.

Then there was the sound of a key being flipped, and then another door next to it was opened.

"Boom!"

The door was closed.

"Locking a room in your own home?"

Roger was slightly taken aback, he pricked up his ears, but heard a faint voice coming from the crack of the door.

"Don't be afraid, my dear darling..."

"You've... don't worry..."

Then there was a faint cry.

Roger breathed a sigh of relief.

The middle-aged woman's expression at this time is like the emotions that a mother who lost her son should have.

Click.

Just as Roger was about to come out of the corner, he unconsciously kicked his toe to the corner of the cabinet next to him.

There was a soft sound.

The whole piece of wood at the corner of the cabinet popped out, revealing a gap the size of a palm.

Roger was overjoyed. He bent down and took out an iron box from the gap. Open the tin box, and there are a few photos on it.

Roger recognized the girl in the photo at a glance.

Danielle.

There are not too many indescribable pictures in the photo, but Danielle's clothes are extremely revealing, and her eyes seem to be dripping water, looking straight at the person outside the photo.

"This woman..."

It was already clear that Danielle was either the mastermind or an accomplice, and that Travis and Judd's deaths had absolutely nothing to do with her.

After taking out a few photos, Roger was slightly taken aback by the things below.

That's a strand of black...hair?

Thinking of what Travis had done with the lock of hair and the photo gave Roger a chill.

Shaking his head slightly, Roger found a strange smell in the air.

His heartbeat accelerated inexplicably, and his face suddenly changed.

"Is there a psychedelic ingredient in this?"

Put the photos back and cover the iron box, and the breath in the air gradually dissipated.

"What the hell is this woman doing?"

After putting away the iron box and quietly pushing open the door, there was silence in the corridor. Just when Roger was about to push the door to leave, there was a piercing ringing of the phone downstairs.

Travis' mother pushed the door and walked downstairs, and Roger glanced at the ajar door not far away.

Something is missing from Travis's room, which seems to have been taken by his mother, and there may be more clues there.

Roger hesitated for a moment, but he gave up the idea. The other party might come up at any time.

But at this moment, the middle-aged woman who answered the phone did not go back upstairs, but put on her clothes, opened the door and left.

Roger's face brightened. This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. He quickly came out of the room and pushed open the door opposite.

The room opposite was much larger than Travis's, and the air was heavily scented with vanilla.

There was a ring of white candles in the room.

The flickering light of the fire illuminated the room in a trance.

In order to prevent his own shadow from being spotted by the light on the window, Roger bent down quietly.

The moment he bent down, the corner of his eye swept away, and he saw a person lying on a rocking chair in the back of the room!

A chill rushed over his head, and Roger subconsciously clenched the short knife. In such a narrow space, the short knife is more effective than the long sword.

Although the candle was dim, Roger could still see the other person's face clearly.

The black skin has become pale due to death, and although the face is distorted, it is still possible to distinguish the appearance before birth.

That's Travis.

Travis who has been dead for at least a month!