My Husband, Warm The Bed

Chapter 1839



Chapter 1839

"My reputation..." Quill patted his cheek and yelled, "Has been ruined by all of you!"

Quill was typically well- mannered when he spoke to his subordinates. He had never been so furious before. But now, his anger was so terrifying that the majority in the room had their heads lowered in silence. There were, of course, some exceptions.

The representative of the mark inspection department, Olivia, was not satisfied with Quill's accusation. "What do you mean by we have ruined your reputation? Don't you have any responsibility at all?"

Quill felt like he had just been beaten with a stick, and he couldn't find the words to refute her. Property © of NôvelDrama.Org.

Under everyone else's surprised gazes, Olivia continued on, "Sergeant Scott, it's not that we aren't working hard, nor that we didn't try to find clues. It's just that the scene was utterly spick and span. There was nothing left for us to find."

Usually, Quill was pretty close with his subordinates, and he rarely put on the airs as captain. This time, however, they were outright defying him. His pride had been hurt. He argued, "Are you saying that we should stop investigating just because we can't find any clues? Should we just give up on solving the case because it's too hard? Just let the victims die in vain, huh? It's fine to let the murderer walk free, right?"

Olivia fiddled with a pen in her hand and replied lightly, "We want to find clues as well, but there's none. What else can we do? Fake the evidence?"

"Fake the evidence? Is that what a police officer should be saying when she can't find any leads?" Quill was extremely angry. If he had known that these b*stards would be so disrespectful toward him, he would not have treated them so nicely before. "Why don't you just go home? This position is not suitable for you."

Olivia kicked the chair back and stood up to refute, "Quill, you saw it with your own eyes. From the dismembered corpses to the bar homicide, we worked day and night for countless days. Do you honestly think we have just been f*cking around? You're telling me to go home, then let me ask you, what have you been up to? What have you accomplished?"

F*ck, he really hadn't gotten any results either. Even the bar homicide case was only solved because of Jefferson's huge tip.

At this moment, Quill felt extremely ashamed. Nevertheless, Olivia was a little too much. She knew how well Quill had been treating them day to day. He was simply speaking out of anger, yet she had purposefully berated him in front of everyone. But what could she do now? She had no choice but to carry on. "What do you mean?" Quill asked.

"Do you still not get what I mean?"

Quill's voice was almost hoarse. "No, I don't understand. Say it to me straight."

"Fine, if you say so. We are all doing our best, no one is excelling in particular, but no one is dragging the team down either. On the other hand, if you hadn't received Jefferson's help in your recent cases, are you confident that you would have been able to crack them?"

Olivia's words pierced right through his heart. Every word she uttered was like a bullet straight through his head.

It turned out he wasn't the only one who felt he was incompetent. Even his subordinates had thought so too, although they hadn't mentioned it. If he didn't reflect on himself, he would probably not be able to keep doing this job anymore.

Quill understood this, but he couldn't lose this fight of ego. If not, he would really have to go home as a loser.

Hence, he gritted his teeth and retorted, "If you think I've not been doing my job right, then feel free to take over. I'll hand this case over to you."

Quill threw the folder onto the table, turned around and walked out of the conference room.

Everyone in the room looked at each other in dismay. Danny suddenly spoke up, "Olivia, you went too far. We all know how hard Sergeant Scott has worked and how many cases he has closed in the past few years. We can't deny his capabilities and working attitude just based on the recent cases alone."

"I know, but you saw how he was behaving earlier. I only said a few words and he told me to go home. I couldn't resist throwing a few shots back." Olivia regretted her words too, but there was no use crying over spilled milk.

"It seems like you guys really need a new captain." Zelson, who had been silent the entire time, commented out of nowhere. After saying that, he got up and left.

Everyone exchanged glances with each other again. Dr. Jacob hardly ever talked about anything outside of work. What did he mean by that?

Back in the office, Quill lit a cigarette and took two puffs.

Olivia was not wrong. He had gotten so fired up precisely because she had struck his nerves.

Did they think that he didn't want to solve the case?

Did they think that he didn't want to find the murderer as soon as possible?

Of course, he wanted to. In fact, that was all he wanted. But he wasn't sure if his brain was becoming slow, or the criminals were becoming increasingly cunning. Although he had been

investigating the recent cases like he always had, he just couldn't seem to crack them. Not only that, but he also kept falling for the enemy's traps.

The purpose of the meeting just now was to discuss the case of dismembered corpses, but it had turned into a quarrel instead. They did not come to any conclusions. This wouldn't be good for the progress of the case.

Quill knew very well that things couldn't go on like this. He had to find a way to breakthrough. As long as they could get some progress, the friction between his colleagues would disappear as well.

After thinking long and hard, Quill inhaled another two puffs of smoke and then pressed the cigarette butt in the ashtray. He picked up the telephone on the desk and dialed a number. "Director Hammer, I'm going over to report something to you now."

He didn't ask whether the other party was free and simply stated his purpose. Quill was rarely this domineering. He hung up after finishing his sentence.

"Ring, ring, ring—"

Jefferson, who was on sick leave, was sleeping soundly when he was woken up by a phone call.

"Which son of a b*tch wants to die!" He grabbed the phone and wanted to smash it. However, he glanced at the words 'My Queen' on the screen from the corner of his eye and hurriedly answered the phone. Nonetheless, his tone was irritable from being rudely woken up. "My Queen, what do you want now?"

Britney's deliberate gentle voice sounded at the other end of the phone, "Jefferson, I have something to discuss with you."

"Please just say it directly. Don't beat around the bush, you're scaring me." Usually, Britney would call him a rascal. It was odd to hear her

call and speak to him in such a sweet tone. Jefferson could sense something was up.

Britney coughed softly and said, "It's no big deal. I just wanted you and Adrienne to come home for dinner."

Whenever she wanted them home for dinner, Britney would usually order him to come home. Since when did she treat him so nicely?

Jefferson did not believe that it was just a simple meal. But since she wanted to play pretend, he would go along with it. "My Queen, I told you last night that I needed some quality time with my little idiot. Did you forget already?"


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