After a long while, his palm slowly eased, fingertips stained with blood, he exhaled, tainted with a chilling dread that seeped into his bones.
Evelyn Clayton fled from the company, the terrifying image of James Grant still vivid in her mind.
Her whole body felt cold, and her hands trembled uncontrollably as she took out her phone.
She dialed Yara Reagan’s number, and in the instant she spoke, her voice trembled lightly.
"Yara, do you have a moment? Can you help me look into my father’s car accident from back then?"
Yara heard the unease in her voice: "What happened? Didn’t your father die in a car accident?"
She tightened her grip on the phone, unable to shake off James Grant’s cold gaze from her mind.
"Yes, but I found the officer in charge of the case back then. He told me that my father’s death might have been intentional."
Yara was shocked: "Could it have been someone framing him on purpose?"
"I’m not sure, just suspicious, so we need to investigate."
Evelyn Clayton’s thoughts were a jumbled mess, and Yara’s question was merely a guess. Tʜe source of this ᴄontent ɪs Novᴇl_Fire(.)net
To uncover the truth, the only option was to bring the old case up again and continue the investigation.
Yara deeply understood how important her father’s death was to Evelyn Clayton, and after careful consideration, she agreed.
"Alright, I’ll help you look into it."
Yara gave her a few pieces of advice, and Evelyn Clayton hung up the phone.
In the instant she hung up, she felt an overwhelming sense of fatigue and numbness about to overflow.
She looked up at the sky, which was hazy, as if a prelude to rain.
The phone buzzed with a message from the person in charge of the Jacobs Family project.
The project needed her signature, asking her to return to the company.
Evelyn Clayton lowered her eyes, exhaled lightly, her shoulders relaxed slightly.
She collected her emotions, and headed towards the Jacobs Family’s office location.
Upon arriving, she heard the sound of a dispute coming from the site.
She paused and looked towards the source, seeing Matthew Sullivan arguing fiercely with the staff present.
"I, Matthew Sullivan, have always handled matters properly. The problem with the goods came from your end, and now you want to pin the blame on me? No way!"
It sounded like there was an issue with the transportation of goods.
The staff directly replayed the surveillance video for Matthew Sullivan, speaking righteously.
"Mr. Sullivan, there’s video evidence. From receiving to unloading, our staff was meticulous, and no issues arose, except for the batch of goods you delivered having problems."
Matthew Sullivan didn’t believe it, called over his transport staff, and also checked the driving records and surveillance.
"Did you see clearly? My goods were fine from the warehouse to here! The problem arose only after unloading; whose responsibility is it really!"
There was a stalemate as evidence from both sides made conflicting statements.
The staff, trying to shirk responsibility, spoke directly.
"Mr. Sullivan, transportation is your responsibility. We have no obligation to clean up your mess."
Matthew Sullivan shouted in frustration, knowing transportation was indeed his responsibility.
With a problem arising, he would be the first they’d seek out, who else would they trouble but him!
Some distance away, Evelyn Clayton watched the entire scene, aware that Matthew Sullivan was foolishly shouldering the blame pushed onto him by the staff.
She narrowed her eyes, changed course, and pretended to pass by.
In the instant Matthew Sullivan turned around, she slightly lifted her shoulder, and just happened to bump into him.
"Evelyn? Why are you here?"
Matthew Sullivan was bumped, his head throbbing slightly.
He frowned, and upon seeing it was her, his initial anger turned into a bit of surprise.