The sun hung low in the sky when the police arrived at Jackson's estate, casting long shadows across the manicured lawn. Two officers, their expressions grim and professional, approached the grand entrance.
They were met by a stone-faced butler who, after a brief exchange, led them into the main sitting room where Jackson awaited, lounging in a high-backed chair, his demeanor one of cold indifference.
"Mr. Jackson," one officer began, his tone polite but firm. "We're here to ask you a few questions regarding the recent disappearance of Lucy."
Jackson raised a brow, his lips curling into a faint, mocking smile. "Lucy? I'm afraid I don't recall anyone by that name."
The officer didn't flinch. "She was reported missing a few days ago. We have reason to believe you might have information, given your past relationship with her."
At this, Jackson let out a dry laugh, the sound echoing unnaturally in the room.