32: Chapter 32 Come Home With Me?

Shaun felt like he was falling apart.

After leaving the underground casino, he and Ballard had spent the entire day running all over New Orleans.

They pulled data from the technical team, collected reports from the forensic center, met with informants, reviewed surveillance footage, cross-referenced bank transactions, and canvassed three different neighborhoods...

He couldn't remember how many cups of coffee he'd had or how long he'd sat in the car; he only knew the sun had risen in the east and set in the west, and by the time they finally left the archives, it was pitch black outside.

Shaun leaned against the passenger seat of the police car, feeling his eyelids fighting to stay open.

Ballard climbed into the driver's seat and started the engine.

"I'll take you home."

Shaun nodded and gave her the address of his apartment.

The car drove into the night in New Orleans.

The neon lights on both sides of the street were dazzling, faint music drifted from the bars, and drunk college students stumbled along the sidewalk in twos and threes.

Everything was so normal, so ordinary, which made Shaun feel a little more at ease.

Soon, the car stopped downstairs at his apartment building.

Shaun pushed open the car door, ready to get out.

"Shaun."

Behind him, Ballard suddenly spoke.

Shaun turned back.

Ballard was looking ahead, not at him.

"I'm coming home with you tonight."

Shaun was stunned for a moment, then realized what she meant: "...What?"

Ballard then turned her head to look at him.

Her gaze was calm, but Shaun saw something in it...

Not ambiguity, not anything else, just pure... concern.

Then he heard Ballard say: "The Colombians. You spent the whole day investigating them with me. If they find out..."

Ballard didn't finish her sentence, but Shaun naturally knew what she meant.

That Mexican man at the underground casino must have already reported that the police had been there.

If the Colombians had eyes in New Orleans, then going back to his own crappy apartment tonight... might just be walking right into a trap.

Was Ballard trying to protect him?

Sure enough, Ballard said: "I'll sleep on the sofa; I won't disturb you."

Shaun opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but he glanced at Ballard's eyes.

The decision was clearly made in those eyes.

So he sighed: "Fine."

Ballard nodded, turned off the engine, and pushed open the car door.

The two of them stood under the dim streetlights, looking at the old apartment building.

Shaun suddenly felt a bit awkward.

Bringing a female colleague home to spend the night... although it was for safety reasons, the whole situation felt strange no matter how he thought about it.

Ballard, however, looked completely calm and was already walking into the building.

"Which floor?"

"Third floor, 302."

Shaun followed behind, feeling as if he were the one being brought home.

They reached the third floor.

Shaun took out his keys and opened the door.

As soon as the door opened, he realized a problem.

His apartment... was as messy as a pigsty.

Clothes that hadn't been washed in three days were thrown on the sofa, and leftover takeout boxes were sitting on the coffee table.

Ballard stood at the doorway, looking at all of this, and was silent for a full three seconds.

Then she asked: "Has your place been robbed?"

Shaun: "...No."

Ballard nodded, didn't say anything more, walked in, pushed the clothes on the sofa to one side, and sat down.

Shaun was also a bit embarrassed, but he quickly realized a problem...

If they were really being targeted, then Ballard returning to the apartment with him was actually bringing the danger to her as well.

She would sleep on the sofa, he would sleep in the bedroom, and they would both be there.

If the Colombians came for revenge, they'd be wiped out together.

Besides, since Ballard was so vigilant, it was possible the Colombians had already made a move!

If they stayed here, there was no way they'd have a peaceful night!

So Shaun didn't enter the room, but instead said: "Ballard, let's go somewhere else."

Ballard was stunned: "What?"

Shaun walked into the room, picked up his car keys, and said: "I have a place that's safer than here."

Ballard looked at him, a flash of doubt in her eyes, but she didn't ask any further questions.

She stood up and followed him out.

The two of them went back downstairs and got back into the car.

Ballard got into the driver's seat and started the engine: "Where to?"

Shaun replied calmly: "Hill Manor."

Ballard's hand paused for a moment.

She turned her head, looked at Shaun, her eyes complex, and asked uncertainly: "That haunted manor?"

Shaun nodded: "It's not haunted anymore."

Now it was Ballard's turn to open her mouth, but looking at Shaun's firm gaze, she didn't ask any more questions.

Although the two of them hadn't been partners for very long, they seemed to have a fair amount of trust in each other.

The car drove all the way to Hill Manor.

The car bounced along the overgrown driveway.

The headlights illuminated the pitch-black three-story building ahead; Hill Manor stood silently in the moonlight, its windows dark and hollow, and the vines on the walls swaying gently in the night breeze.

Ballard stepped on the brake and stared at the house for three seconds.

"This is it?"

Shaun nodded.

Ballard didn't speak.

But the expression on her face said it all.

The expression meant: Are you kidding me?

Shaun pushed open the car door and got out.

The night breeze rushed in, carrying the damp scent unique to the swamp.

Moonlight spilled over the overgrown front yard, casting shadowy figures over the withered bushes.

But Shaun had a familiar feeling, as if this place was his natural "home."

Ballard got out of the car, stood beside him, and examined the house.

"This place..." she said, weighing her words, "looks pretty creepy."

Shaun didn't speak.

He walked forward.

When he reached the entrance of the main house, he stopped.

The door was closed.

But as Shaun looked at the door, he suddenly had a strange feeling in his heart...

It was as if the house was watching him, waiting for him, and welcoming him back.

He reached out his hand, wanting to push the door open, but it had already opened on its own.

The moment his hand touched the doorknob, the door slid open on its own, silently, as if someone had opened it from the inside.

Shaun walked in, took two steps, and realized something was wrong.

He turned back; Ballard was still standing at the entrance, not moving.

Moonlight shone on her face, and for the first time, Shaun saw an expression of surprise on it.

Ballard spoke, her voice half a beat slower than usual: "This door... did it open by itself?"

Shaun didn't answer, afraid of scaring Ballard.

He stood inside the door, looking at the unflappable female detective outside, and suddenly felt like laughing.

He hadn't expected that this detective, who wasn't even afraid of witches, would be so cautious about a haunted house.

"Come in."

Ballard hesitated for a second.

Just a second, and then she walked in.

The door closed gently behind her, moving on its own again.

But the door clearly had no motor connection; it was impossible for it to be an automatic door.

Ballard looked back at the door, then turned to look at Shaun, her expression of amazement even more pronounced.