Shirley twisted her feet into the entrance.

Since all the windows were broken, the air in the house should be relatively fresh, but in fact, there was still a strange smell of fishy smell here, and the nature was very clear, probably because it was inseparable from blood. Shirley knew what she was doing, so she did not rush into the living room rashly. Just a porch was enough to make her stay like a mess.

Shirley's back was against the wall, and she thoughtfully observed that the shoe cabinet opposite was messy. It was obvious that nearly two weeks had passed, but Martha Walker still asked the deceased husband's shoes to be placed there, and there was no sign of careful care. This situation is not something that can be interpreted by reluctant words.

She looked into the living room and made gestures outside the house simultaneously, indicating that Solan could step into the threshold.

Solan was still standing by the road outside the lawn, guarding the newspaper box filled with debris. He smiled silently when he heard this, and in just one second he crossed twenty feet and appeared at the door. Unfortunately, Shirley was still staring at the living room and had no time to pay attention to this amazing scene, which disappointed Solan a little.

“There is no one in the living room.”

Shirley talked to herself, then walked a few more steps carefully, her steps really like a cat. Solan looked so funny, glanced at the stairs and said softly: "The zombie's hearing is very sensitive, but unless you don't walk well and throw yourself into a dog's mud, no one will pay attention to you."

"Shut up!"

Shirley turned her head suddenly, and a breath was squeezed out from her teeth: "Slight sound!"

Solan surrendered with both hands, and the next moment, the two of them put their energy into the living room together.

I really don’t know how Martha Walker has lived in the past few days, unless she has really become a walking zombie.

The living room was left unattended for two weeks and would not end up in a mess. However, if all the windows were smashed by neighbors and some children deliberately made trouble, the result would be completely different. The most conspicuous broken glass slag was actually the most direct reason why Shirley walked carefully. Every step she stepped on the leather shoes she wore was quite harsh noise.

Fortunately, Seattle is a rainy city surrounded by water on three sides. Recently, as usual, there will be light rain every now and then, so there is not much dust blowing into the house. However, even if it is light rain, if combined with the power of the wind, its destructive power will only be stronger than floating dust and dust. Since the windows of the house have been smashed, it is easy to imagine what kind of virtue this entire floor will be fermented by rain.

“It’s really hard…”

Shirley pursed her lips in disgust: "She won't stop living here anymore, right? If I were to live in this environment, I would go crazy in a day!"

"She is not here, at least now." Solan looked to the second floor and sniffed his nose and said, "It didn't rain last night, so there was no possibility that the smell would be dissipated. Shirley, I'll be sure to you that I didn't smell the smell of living things at all...including the living zombies."

Hearing this, Shirley was obviously a little uncomfortable. She looked at Solan, her face was red and white, and her lips squirmed, as if she wanted to say something but couldn't say it.

But in just a moment, she even sucked her mouth.

"Living zombies, what's your metaphor?"

"Oh, the living dead are the ones who have not been shot by the protagonists yet, and the dead are transformed into bodies."

Living, dead, dead, alive, a total of two words were used by Solan in a mess, almost dazed Shirley. She finally snorted fiercely, but seeing that a layer of danger had been eliminated, she immediately walked quickly to the stairs.

Even though he was tantrums, Solan knew that Shirley had confidence in him, so he let her go to the building. He was very confident in his sense of smell. Unless Martha Walker wrapped himself in a space suit and lurked in the building, Shirley would not be in danger.

Staying on the first floor, he first looked at the mess all over the ground.

The glass fragments and the floor fermented by rain, the chairs kicked to the ground and the TV with broken screens, the chandeliers had not hit the dining table, otherwise the scene would have been classic.

Martha Walker must be alive, but he certainly didn't continue to live here. Although Solan was not at the scene at the time, since she was able to deal with the police's interrogation, it means that her IQ was not affected. Only fools would let the family be so chaotic, although it was not clear what was going on on the second floor.

"Soran!"

Just as she thought of this, Shirley's voice sounded on the second floor. Solan responded and ran away quickly. The second floor of Walker's house is no different from any American-style house. The same layout is the only way the floor is finally not like it has been rinsed. Solan just came and saw Shirley standing in front of the master bedroom door, looking stunned.

"What happened!?"

Of course Shirley was fine. Seeing Solan turning over the second floor, she looked speechless and pointed her hand into the master bedroom.

Solan looked around and the next word that rushed to his throat was choked.

The same miserable bedroom.

The windows in the second floor room were also broken, but although the floor escaped the consequences of being eroded by water, the walls ushered in the deepest malice of the neighbors. It should have been left by the mother's people. The walls were painted with the words "bitcher", the huge letters and even capitalized, and they were all in red!

Shirley murmured, "Why do you want to be so exaggerated? This is no longer something that can be explained by simple public anger, right?"

Solan nodded deeply. The walls were like this, and the words with that letter were written down in the closet, and the bed was ruined. The bed sheets were scraped by a knife, and the head of the bed and the fabric were splashed in a mess by red and green paints. It must be impossible to use them again.

"It seems that Martha Walker is not as honest as we think." He whispered: "These insults are obviously directed at her individuality, and they are by no means men's style. I didn't see any movement from men, and women rushed into the house to scold her for bitches, and chose a bedroom. Why? Has she been catching men outside frequently these days?"

Shirley was still shocked, but she couldn't help but laugh when she heard this: "Graduate this conclusion seriously, Officer Adams, was it so unreliable when you handled a case in Gotham City?"

Solan didn't talk to him, so he quickly searched in the bedroom. Seeing this, Shirley put away her laughter and followed her to the next room to check. Solan first opened the wardrobe, and the clothes inside were neatly arranged, but they were also stained with paint. The bathroom was also empty, but the mirror of the tooth cabinet could not be left by the neighbors. They were painted with big letters and red oil paint was very dazzling.

"No one!"

In the next room, Shirley shouted loudly: "Soran, she must have not lived at home for a long time. Let's look for traces of where she might be. Do you have any clues there?"

"No!" Solan shouted, "And I don't think she's traveling far away, the closet is full, so she can't keep buying new clothes everywhere."

After checking their respective rooms, the two quickly met in advance in the building. The Walker family was just that big. Shirley was not afraid at all until now. No matter whether Martha Walker was a lurking Michael Miles or a chainsaw Jason, as long as she was not at home, it would be no different from an ordinary house.

"Maybe..." Solan thought, put his hand on the railing of the building, and looked down at the first floor: "Will there be a head in the refrigerator?"

There is no doubt that although the living room was ruined, the intruders did not have the habit of smashing the refrigerator. The kitchen was intact, the men were not interested in it, and the woman's goal was also on the second floor. If the intruders were indeed the neighbor of Walker's family.

"Uh...head..."

Shirley's expression was obviously unnatural, and her eyes looked at Solan were even more weird: "Dear... Mr. Adams, I take the liberty to ask, does your conclusion come from life practice?"

The moonlight broke into the corridor on the second floor and sprinkled into the room, reflecting Shirley's panicked face. She stood face to face, while Solan smiled slightly. His face was dark, but his eyes were obviously too shiny, and a slender shadow fell on the floor, extending to the end of the corridor.

"Dear Police Officer Haber." He smiled and put his hands on Shirley's shoulder: "Don't worry, this kind of waste of space is just that the film and television dramas want visual effects. You are living in the real world."

After saying that, he jumped gently and then fell lightly along the building to the first floor.

“Real world…”

Shirley curled her lips fiercely: "Tell Superman these words, why don't he beat you into two small meat pies!"
Chapter completed!