Chapter 28: Return

With a splash, Harvey Copley fell headlong into the water, his face submerged, floating as blood bloomed beneath him, spreading swiftly through the pool.

“Don’t kill me, I’m with the FBI, here’s my badge!” the middle-aged man said to Qiu Fengyu, his tone unruffled.

“I hate liars more than anything.”

“I’m not lying, I really—” The rest of his words caught in his throat, and he collapsed at the edge of the pool. Blood trickled from his mouth, a bullet wound in his chest like a hammer’s brutal blow. His body sprawled by the water’s edge, and blood rapidly seeped out.

Qiu Fengyu shrugged at the corpses, tossed his pistol aside, and strode toward the door.

Moonlight veiled the night in hazy silver. Coffin and two officers kept vigil, waiting nearly an hour. Coffin glanced at her watch—it was past one in the morning. Anxiety gnawed at her.

A crisp ringtone sliced through the silence.

Instinctively, Coffin drew her phone from her pocket, glanced at the caller, stepped away from the officers, and hissed, “Damn it, where are you? Don’t tell me you went to Mexico.”

“You guessed it, but there’s no prize. I’m on my way back, and I need your help. Did you find the iron bridge?”

“Yes, I’m waiting here, along with two cops!” Coffin gritted her teeth.

“Send them away, you stay alone. I don’t want to be nabbed the moment I return.” Qiu Fengyu’s voice was light, almost laughing.

“How am I supposed to explain that?” Coffin snapped.

“You know what to say. You’re a smart Texas deputy. Ten minutes, that’s all I need. I’ll be flying back, knowing you’re waiting makes me impatient!”

“Bastard—” Coffin tried to curse him further, but the call abruptly ended. “Damn it, bastard…” She muttered, then steadied her breath. Of course, he’d gone to Mexico.

Composed at last, Coffin approached the two officers. “There’s nothing here. You should head back, I’ll stay.”

“No, Deputy Coffin, we—” One tried to be gallant.

Coffin swore. “Damn it, when I tell you to leave, just leave! Stop wasting time, go home and sleep. We’ve been at this all night. Come morning, someone else will take over. I’ll get a good day’s rest. Go now—don’t keep your families worried!”

The officers exchanged glances, saw Coffin’s impatience, assumed it was from the night’s events, and quickly nodded, drove off, and left.

Coffin finally relaxed, but time was running out. If Qiu Fengyu didn’t return soon, the gunfight and the deaths of so many Mexicans would draw more police, and soon enough someone would discover this place.

Once the officers had gone, Coffin kept vigil, tense and watchful.

Time crawled. She kept checking her watch. At last, two points of light flickered in the distance—a car, stopping on the far side of the bridge. The headlights went dark. Coffin’s heart tightened.

But the lights soon flared again, accompanied by the distant rumble of an engine.

Her phone rang—urgent, insistent. She answered, ready to vent, but Qiu Fengyu’s voice came through.

“If I were you, I’d stay well away from the bridge. Or hide to the side.”

He hung up bluntly.

“Hell!” Coffin cursed, drove her car away, and parked at a safe distance. Still, she watched the bridge intently, whispering—God help that bastard.

No sooner had she finished than the roar of an engine erupted. The sound grew closer—deep, aggressive, the promise of a car soon leaping across the gap.

Headlights approached, the engine’s growl intensifying. She imagined the wind, though she couldn’t really hear it. She hoped the car would soar.

The bridge on the far side was raised, higher than her bank.

Suddenly, the headlights lifted into the air, engines spinning, wheels screeching. It was as if it had waited forever; the car slammed down with a thud, skidding forward on momentum, then spun in a tight arc, sliding to a stop before Coffin’s vehicle.

“Hey, damn foreigner, do you always drive like a maniac?” Coffin got out, slammed her door with a heavy thud, and strode over to Qiu Fengyu as he exited his car, shouting at him.

“Foreigner? No, surely there’s no one more cowboy than me in Texas?” Qiu Fengyu chuckled, looking at her. “Don’t look at me like that. I just did what needed to be done. No loose ends. I promise—the Mexicans will never find us.”

“But… what about the bridge? Eventually, the police will investigate—American police,” Coffin said, exasperated by his shamelessness.

“I told you—no loose ends.” Qiu Fengyu grinned. “Come on, let’s go home. I need a real sleep.” He ducked into his car.

Listening to the engine, Coffin felt strangely empty. She’d feared for him, never expecting him to return in such a reckless way, only to part so abruptly.

Qiu Fengyu rolled down the window, winked at her. “Hey, officer, I like you. Thanks—” With that, he sped away.

Coffin stood for a moment, feeling oddly irritated by his teasing. She glanced around, then hurriedly drove away.

As her car pulled away, a massive explosion thundered from across the river. A giant fireball blossomed, and the half-extended iron bridge collapsed into the water with a roar. Flames lit the far riverbank.

Coffin stared, then floored the accelerator, vanishing into the night.

The blast drew a swarm of police cars, but the place was deserted. The officers could only stand helpless before the inferno. The case belonged to Mexico; it had nothing to do with them.

Qiu Fengyu returned home, parking in the garage at Circe’s house. He walked inside, washed his hands in the kitchen, scrubbing thoroughly. He hadn’t gone on a killing spree like this in ages—thirty-two people, including those who’d crossed the border to ambush the police.

It was his habit, as if the water could wash away the scent of blood.

After cleaning up, Qiu Fengyu went to bed. He never suffered insomnia—once his hands were clean, it was as if everything had been washed away, leaving nothing behind.

He slept soundly until morning. Then he heard someone knocking below. In pajamas and slippers, he descended and opened the door—Coffin stood at the threshold.

“Come in. I knew you’d come, though I didn’t expect you actually would.” Qiu Fengyu lounged in his chair.

Coffin’s face was pale. She sat across from him, took a deep breath, and said, “We’ve received intel. On the Mexican side… more than twenty people died last night. Harvey Copley is dead. Including those who tried to ambush us, thirty-two in all.”

“What does that have to do with me?” Qiu Fengyu shrugged.

“You won’t admit it, even to me? You know what you did last night, don’t you?” Coffin suddenly stood, leaning in, her chest heaving, “Do you know anyone else who could pull this off?”

“It wasn’t me. You saw me last night—I showed off my driving skills. You know I’m good. That’s all. Of course… I did cross the border—that was exhilarating. But thirty-two deaths… does that really have anything to do with me?” Qiu Fengyu spread his hands.

Coffin’s face went blank. She slowly sat back, muttering, “Thirty-two people… How can you be so calm? Fine, I know you’ll never admit anything. The scene was chaos, no witnesses, nothing… They used their own weapons against themselves.”

“Now you’re thinking straight!” Qiu Fengyu applauded lightly.

Coffin thought for a moment, then said nothing more. She rose, went to the door, pushed it open, and glanced back at Qiu Fengyu. “Thank you. No matter what, we came out unharmed last night.”

She walked a few steps, then turned back, opened the door again. “Don’t cause trouble—in my town.” She laughed at herself as she left.