In the silence of the night, the storm gradually subsided, and the wooden door made a crisp sound again, as if to alarm the countless raindrops on the windows, and they fell and landed on the windowsill.

Tick... Tick...

Mir felt his heart beat steadily and tried to hold his breath, but it was too late, and the lights next to the house didn't know when to go out.

He looked at the doorway of the house across the bourbon street, where the white clothes were fluttering unscrupulously, and he didn't know what Paulina was doing in the doorway.

The window floated slightly, as if someone had deliberately created tension for himself, because he couldn't hear any wind.

After a while, Paulina closed the door and turned around, her piercing white eyes floating on top of her dress.

Paulina's complexion was almost the same as that of the dark night, and he could only see the opposite color, like the bleak moonlight.

Mir's vision was reflected by the white light, which was so dazzling that it caused Mir's eyes to be blinded for a short time.

"Damn! What kind of spell did she cast! Mir scolded.

Mir's mind was in a trance, so he closed his dry eyes and began to listen to Paulina's footsteps.

Her feet stepped on the soft fine sand, making an extremely faint sound, creaking... Squeak..., and then disappeared again.

After a few minutes, Mir slowly opened his eyes and was convinced that Paulina was gone, so he continued to pour the wine.

He drank all the rum in one gulp, and when Mill turned to leave the kitchen, he unconsciously hiccuped.

He immediately covered his mouth, which was very loud due to bone conduction, and although Paulina was not nearby, he was afraid that Paulina would detect it.

He knew that Yaheng had the power of a god, but he was not sure if Paulina also had the power of a god, or if Paulina's power was far more terrifying than Yaheng.

She was just hiding it, and she had told herself to leave it alone, or she would be in a very dangerous situation.

Thinking of this, Mir turned around and took another drink, he needed to give himself a boost at this point.

He didn't know what kind of accident would happen in the next tracking, and he was hoping to see Paulina later.

He could even imagine that the moment he opened the door, maybe Paulina would be standing at the door waiting for him.

Not to mention, Paulina had already discovered her own surveillance of her, and in such a dark house, with no light source in sight, she might also be watching her neighbors, especially Mir.

Mir hoped that Paulina would meet someone else somewhere, preferably someone connected to the case, even a ghost in the hallway.

Although alcohol can anesthetize the nerves and the brain, this does not affect Mir's reasoning in the slightest, on the contrary, it allows his brain to swim around and stimulate his imagination.

Mir thought it was a joy to have an unbridled imagination, and he felt that this abundance of imagination was one of the necessary conditions for the most detective.

He had drunk enough and mentally counted the time, and he could now be sure that Paulina must be far away from him.

He gently opened the door, removed the large-caliber flintlock pistol next to the door, and covered the door, he didn't want the iron door to make a loud closing sound.

Mill crept out of the stone path, standing under the oak tree as fast as he could, leaning sideways, then poking his head out to observe the vanishing white clothes in the distance.

He frowned and muttered, "That's the direction to the New Orleans inn, could she be the real murderer?" ”

Mill followed with questions and hurried after him, fearing that Paulina would actually walk into the New Orleans inn.

He couldn't care about dodging puddles anymore, and no matter what stumbling blocks lay ahead, he was enough to trample on.

Unexpectedly, on Bourbon Street, he passed by a huge puddle, and the sewage was already barefoot.

He sank deeper and deeper, standing in the middle of the puddle, the water completely up to his knees, and he did not understand how Paulina could walk so fast.

His pace became even slower, he lowered his head and cursed to his mother, and when he looked up, Paulina disappeared without a trace.

If there is a third murder at the New Orleans Hotel, then the title of detective really can't be kept.

Even if Amos Stoddard appeared in front of everyone and once again expressed his partiality towards himself, I am afraid that he will not be able to face the people of New Orleans from now on.

It reminded Mir of the arrogant face of Wald Rooux, and his men.

He thought that tomorrow he would definitely hear from Uncle Amos, and it would be more likely to be delayed for a few days.

Before the letter came, he needed to solve the case as soon as possible, no matter what, and at least there was a suspicious target, and he could make a deal to Uncle Amos, and he would feel a little better in his own heart.

Out of the puddle, he ran desperately, and began to look for Paulina, who hid around the corner, staring at the door of the hotel only in the light source, and finally saw Paulina.

However, there was another woman across from her, and they were talking to each other, and the other woman had an extremely serious expression, as if she was being scolded.

The woman spoke in a way that Mir couldn't understand, and judging by the woman's behavior, she danced against Paulina's questioning of herself.

As Mr. Thabit had mentioned earlier, Paulina spoke Creole, and Mir believed that the woman's language was also Creole.

After more than ten minutes, Paulina left the door of the New Orleans inn and walked in the direction of the residential area.

However, the woman's expression was extremely melancholy, and Mir thought that they must have had an unpleasant argument.

She stopped in place with her head down, her eyes glancing at Paolina's back, her mouth moving slightly.

She then turned around, and before entering the New Orleans inn, Mill saw her face clearly, and it turned out to be Laura.

Mir couldn't imagine that Laura could speak Creole, she had told herself that she was from the Ivory Coast, and it was clear that she had lied.

He now suspected that none of the people in the New Orleans inn were telling the truth, and that his idea of counter-reasoning was a wise choice.