“By the way, there should be another maid in this mansion, right?” Feng Bujue asked, focusing intently on dripping oil into a bowl of sauce. Although his hands were busy preparing the meal, his mind never stopped. Multitasking was no burden for Brother Jue; on the contrary... it was a kind of release.

He had previously surmised that the Lovecraft family had more than just Oliver as a maid. After all, the villa had so many rooms, plus hallways, foyers, stairways, and so on... even just the surface cleaning would take one person half a day. What's more, there were chores like cooking and laundry to do. Even if Henderson and Barton helped out, the manpower would still be insufficient.

"Yes, there's another maid, Mrs. Martha. She went back to her hometown for Thanksgiving this year and won't be back until after the holiday," Mrs. Odette replied.

"So even you have to come to the kitchen to help?" Feng Bujue said with a smile.

Odette naturally understood the implication of his words, and she replied somewhat awkwardly, "I'm sorry... I really... am not very good at these things."

Feng Bujue could tell in just one minute that the lady's cooking skills were limited to assisting. Presumably, she rarely came to the kitchen to do anything on weekdays.

"No, no... you're doing a great job. I think Ms. Oliver is very grateful to have you here," Feng Bujue said.

"That's right, Mr. Feng, the madam has really been a great help these past few days," Oliver added. "The previous two madams wouldn't even bother to pour themselves a glass of water..."

"Oliver!" Odette interrupted the old woman, gave her a look, and shook her head slightly. Obviously, she didn't want Oliver to continue. Presumably, the maid had a lot of complaints about the master's previous two wives, and often grumbled, and these things were not suitable for an outsider to hear.

Oliver was also very sensible. Seeing the madam speak, she quickly shut up and buried herself in her work.

"Hmph..." Feng Bujue chuckled, picked up the bowl in front of him, and changed the subject, "Look, carefully dripping the oil in like this, then stretching it out and stirring it like a thread, can prevent the oil and water from separating." He put the bowl aside. "Later, we'll pour this sauce over the oysters, and my special spinach and cheese baked oysters will be complete."

"You always give people surprises, Mr. Feng." Odette was also grateful that he didn't pursue the matter, and took the opportunity to flatter him. "Who would have thought that a detective would have such skills in cooking?"

"Hehe... this dish is only of medium difficulty." Brother Jue replied smugly, "I'm also preparing to make two dishes of similar difficulty: chicken liver mousse and seared Japanese filet mignon." He pointed to a pile of vegetables in the corner. "Pick out a few old potatoes. Using a double-frying method, you can also make a unique pomme_souffle. The French stuff is quite good..."

"Oh! I say, Detective, how many dishes are you planning to make? And I've never even heard of many of the dishes you're making," Oliver said from the side.

"Don't worry... I can manage this little bit of cooking by myself." Feng Bujue's expression was indeed relaxed and casual, but his movements could be described as fast, accurate, and ruthless, at least twice as fast as the movements in those cooking shows on TV...

At this time, Brother Jue's thoughts were not complicated. He had two main purposes for coming to the kitchen: first, he wanted to take advantage of the time before dinner to question the last two suspects; and second, he just wanted to have a good meal...

In this script, players need to ingest food and water. Since he had to eat anyway, why not eat something good...

The game Thriller Paradise has very accurate simulations of the taste of food. Players who have bought food props in the mall know that from potato chips to steak, from candy to lobster, the game can fully simulate the most realistic taste.

Right now, he could use the resources in the script to enjoy a free, expensive meal that would cost a fortune in real life, and he could show off his cooking skills. Feng Bujue would never miss such a good thing.

"By the way, madam, there's a question that I don't think Officer Mark asked you..." Feng Bujue suddenly asked without warning, "Who do you think is the most suspicious in this case?"

Odette's hand trembled slightly. She stared at Feng Bujue with wide almond-shaped eyes. The anxiety that was originally suppressed in her eyes instantly flowed out along with a look of surprise.

Oliver also looked over, with a worried expression on her face.

After an awkward silence, Mrs. Odette seemed to have made up her mind, and her expression became firm. "It's me."

Feng Bujue was still busy with the work at hand, and replied calmly, "The reason?"

"Because... Dennis and I have never gotten along very well." What Odette said coincided with what Barton had told Brother Jue earlier. "When I married into the Lovecraft family seven years ago, Dennis strongly opposed it. Although I later tried to ease the relationship with him, his attitude towards me has always been cold. You saw it in the foyer today..."

"What I want to hear is..." Feng Bujue interrupted, "...what I didn't see."

Odette's heart skipped a beat. Then, she seemed to understand something, and sighed, "Alas, it seems that nothing can be hidden from you..."

Feng Bujue said to himself, *I'm just bluffing... you really have something going on!*

Odette continued, "Okay... I... I went to see Dennis before the body was discovered." Before the other party could respond, she immediately said, "But I swear! I didn't kill Dennis! I didn't even enter that room!"

"Mm, I believe you." Feng Bujue picked up a large handful of washed vegetables and spread them out in front of him, cutting them at high speed. He cut and said, "In my opinion... this is what happened...

This afternoon, your husband and Dennis had an argument for some reason, and they even fired a gun. As the mistress of this house, it's only natural that you would be worried about this.

At the time, you must have speculated that the reason for the argument was because of you. So... after a while, you went to Dennis's guest room, wanting to talk to him." His words were as rhythmic as the sound of the knife cutting on the cutting board, and his speed was extremely fast.

"As a result, you knocked on the door for a long time, but no one answered in the room, so you left. Unexpectedly, not long after... Dennis was found dead in the room.

Since Dennis has always been at odds with you, and you happened to be in front of the guest room during the time of the incident, your suspicion is undoubtedly great. You were afraid of being implicated, so you temporarily concealed this matter."