"I had someone inquire, and Director Reagan will take a vacation in a couple of days, just like every year," Quentin Hale carefully chose his words. "Director Reagan and Director Lockwood are both leaving, and the company’s internal affairs will be handled by Deputy Director Jiang."
James Grant’s gaze flickered.
Come to think of it, this was also one of his reasons for suspecting that Evelyn Clayton was still alive.
Yara Reagan and Iris Lockwood would always take a long vacation for one or two months every year, with their whereabouts unknown and no one able to track them, not even him with any leads.
These two would leave every October or November and return by the latest mid-January. The latest_epɪ_sodes are on_the novel_fіre.net
And December’s Christmas was Evelyn Clayton’s birthday.
This made it hard for James Grant not to be suspicious.
"This year, let’s investigate thoroughly." James Grant’s gaze brightened, like a torch lit in the wilderness, illuminating a corner.
Hearing this, Quentin Hale sighed softly in his heart.
As an assistant, he couldn’t disobey his boss’s instructions, but in Quentin Hale’s mind, he always leaned towards the belief that Evelyn Clayton had passed away.
Although over the years, many signs indeed created the illusion that Evelyn Clayton was still alive, even if the Sinclair family were exceptionally resourceful, it was unlikely they could hide someone so thoroughly without leaking any information, right?
Quentin Hale always felt that everything now was futile work.
Yet this futile work was the pillar that supported James Grant to live well.
Thus, Quentin Hale suppressed the sigh in his words and replied, "Okay, I’ll get back to you as soon as possible."
James Grant said nothing more, only asked Quentin Hale to send him back to the villa.
By now, the sky was already lightening, and James Grant wasn’t feeling sleepy, so he simply went to the kitchen to make breakfast himself.
He had just taken off his coat and hadn’t reached the kitchen door when his phone rang.
Returning to check, he saw the call was from Tristan Hawthorne.
With nothing else to do, James Grant answered, "Tristan? Why call so early, what’s up?"
"James, I’ve received some news here. It might not be reliable, but I think I should tell you," Tristan Hawthorne spoke with some hesitation yet inexplicable excitement, "I have a French Chinese friend whose family runs an airport, and he sent me a screenshot early this morning."
As the words fell, James Grant’s phone vibrated.
Feeling somewhat inexplicable but with his heart inexplicably racing, James Grant opened the message Tristan Hawthorne had sent.
At the moment he saw the picture, James Grant froze in place.
Tristan Hawthorne had sent a screenshot of a passport.
The name on the passport was unfamiliar, but the photo was so familiar.
"Sinclair, Clayton..." James Grant’s lips trembled, his fingertips gently touching the passport screenshot on the phone screen.
The photo in the screenshot was unmistakably Evelyn Clayton’s face.
But unlike Evelyn Clayton five years ago, the Evelyn Clayton in the photo had a cool smile in her eyes. She looked more beautiful, more composed than before, with no trace of sadness or sorrow in her eyes, as if she had already forgotten everything.
With the view already blurred, James Grant tried hard to suppress the tears on the verge of falling, taking a silent deep breath, "Is it her?"
Though James Grant’s trembling voice was well concealed, Tristan Hawthorne still noticed.
He sighed audibly, "Honestly, it’s really hard to confirm. There are so many people in the world, it’s possible for lookalikes. Plus, my friend said this person’s nationality is Vesseria, the data shows she’s a Vesserian Chinese born and raised in Vesseria."
James Grant was frighteningly calm.
He clutched his phone tightly and said, "At this level, the Sinclair family can manage. Help me check her subsequent itinerary, I will expedite and head over."