"Did Mr. Roan say anything about where he was headed this ti?" Simon inquired, casually now that everyone was settled in.
Julian remained silent, his gaze drifting around the house, piecing together the puzzle.
"No," Mrs. Roan replied curtly. Earlier, she'd been tense, but now she carefully picked her words. If she didn't, who knows what might unfold?
Even the gods couldn't predict the outco.
"Does he usually ntion these trips before he leaves for work? Or did he just forget this ti?"
"He rarely updates about his work, let alone where he goes for it."
"Hmm… how much do you know about his job?"
"Not much, just the surface level."
Simon caught onto her hesitance with ease.
"How has he been lately? Notice any strange or suspicious behavior? Anything out of character?" Simon slowly tightened his grip on the situation.
"He was… I'll say it this way: it wasn't suspicious, just coming ho late and a bit tipsy. You get what I an, right? It's been like that only for the last three weeks. He was fine three days ago when he left for a trip."
Simon and Julian shared a knowing glance, nodding subtly. Everything was falling into place.
"We also saw that you've been married for five years, but still no kids. What's up with that?"
"Well, there have been so issues, but we've been trying. I an, who doesn't want the 'love fruit'? But I'd prefer not to delve into sensitive topics, if you don't mind."
"Yeah… I apologize for that." Simon nodded, sowhat embarrassed.
"Mrs. Roan," Julian interjected, shifting in his seat, "sorry, but could you point to the washroom?" He looked sheepish. "Why is my stomach acting up today?"
"Yeah, go to the hall, take a right down the hallway, it's the second-to-last door."
"Thanks!" Julian stood up quickly, excusing himself. Mrs. Roan's eyes trailed after him until he disappeared from the parlor.
Now, only the two of them remained.
Stealing a glance from the yard, Simon leaned in and asked again, "So, how's everything going between you and Mr. Roan?"
Mrs. Roan arched an eyebrow, her voice laced with suspicion. "Why on earth are you asking that? It's so obvious! We're married, aren't we?"
"Yes… you are," Simon's voice deepened. "But there's more to it, isn't there? Mr. Roan is in his late forties, while you're still quite young. I'm not emphasizing the age gap—after all, love is blind, right? But the questions you just answered indicate sothing's off. You're either hiding sothing from us or even from your hus—"
"Think before you speak," Mrs. Roan interjected sharply, cutting him off. "Even if this is part of your assignnt, don't you think you're overstepping?"
Simon remained unfazed, replying coolly, "This is part of our job." He saw through the layers of deception that Mrs. Roan was trying to project.
"But it's alright. If you don't want to answer, it'll all be docunted regardless."
"Are you trying to blackmail ?" Her voice trembled, her eyes fierce as they locked onto Simon's.
"No need for that; our job doesn't provide that kind of service. We simply record what we hear, only the truth."
He didn't even flinch.
Mrs. Roan fell silent for a mont, contemplating if she had been naive at that mont. What had she truly thought of the person across from her, and what he really was?
In this world, there's no place for the foolish. A small mistake can escalate into a monuntal problem, especially in the presence of the wrong person.
Julian casually pushed the door open and stepped into the washroom. Just as he had anticipated, it was neat and tidy. Standing there, he took a mont to cool off while letting his gaze wander about.
A trash bin held a few receipts and used tissues; towels hung in place, and bottles of handwash and soap lined the counter. What else was there to see? Shh…
If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from . Please report it.
He shook off that pointless thought and zipped up.
Silently, he exited the washroom, ensuring the door clicked shut behind him. In the hallway, to his right, two more doors were calling to him.
The piece was here.
He approached the first door and gently pushed it open. No lock this ti. Inside, the room was modest, but the clock was ticking. He had to be quick.
His eyes first landed on the wardrobe, the most obvious place of soone's buried past. After rummaging for a minute, he found nothing of value, just won's clothing.
Turning to the table, he noticed neatly lined-up books. He opened each drawer one by one, but to no avail.
He picked one up. "Twilight by Stephanie yer." Flipping through a few pages, he realized it was just more romance, nothing captivating. So dialogues were underlined, but he didn't have the ti to delve deeper, so he returned it to its spot.
Scanning a few others, he found the sa old Roo and Juliet clichés alongside dusty history tos.
But sothing was still clicking him.
He glanced around, and his eyes landed on the makeup dressing table. Not expecting much, he opened a couple of drawers, discovering nail polish and typical won's items.
Wait, what's this?
He picked up a small bottle, contemplating.
"Sleeping pills? Looks like Mrs. Roan's been having a rough ti," he murmured to himself, opening the next drawer only to find another bottle marked for stress relief.
"She really is."
Realizing he was wasting precious ti he didn't have, he returned everything to its rightful place and quietly exited the room, leaving the door softly closed behind him.
He glanced down the hallway once more, his hand reaching for the doorknob of what was supposed to be Mr. Roan's room. Just then, the doorbell rang.
"Ti's up," Mrs. Roan announced, a wave of relief washing over her. "I'm done with this."
Simon gave a slight nod, agreeing, hoping Julian had found sothing while he was buying them ti.
Mrs. Roan slowly rose, the tension leaving her body now that their conversation was over, and headed towards the door, towards the waiting person.
As they both exited the parlor, Mrs. Roan comnted, "Your junior is sure taking his sweet ti."
"...yeah," Simon replied faintly from behind.
Reaching the hall, they saw Julian approaching, his eyes scanning the walls. When Julian t them, he offered a sheepish smile, and without a word, the three moved towards the exit.
At the door, Mrs. Roan swung it wide, revealing a woman in a chic dress, a bit over thirty.
"Wha—" the woman started to speak, but the words caught in her throat as she noticed the two figures behind her friend.
Simon and Julian quickly made their exit. Their job here was done, and it was best if as few people knew about it as possible.
Mrs. Roan glanced at her friend, silently thanking her for arriving so quickly, while providing a way out for Julian and Simon.
Simon and Julian stepped outside the house, both eager to leave this place as soon as possible, but Julian's legs hesitated.
Simon halted, puzzled by the sudden pause. Turning his head, Julian said politely, "Thank you for your ti, Mrs. Roan. I hope we et again."
"...Yeah..." Mrs. Roan replied, her smile a bit awkward.
As they finally walked away, Mrs. Roan's friend, trying hard to make sense of the whole thing, asked, "Who were those guys?"
She didn't answer right away, watching the two of them until they disappeared through the tal gate.
"Get inside first," Mrs. Roan said, turning around towards the door, her last glance at Simon icy.
"What happened?" Julian asked casually. "Did she catch onto you or sothing? Well, she was mighty fine—"
"No, it's nothing like that," Simon replied calmly, as if stating a simple fact, without a hint of emotion.
Then Julian rembered again. He was with Simon, but he couldn't help but wonder, then what was that all about, my friend?
"Anyway, did you find anything?" Simon asked, brushing aside the pointless thoughts.
"Nah. The whole place was clean. Though I did pick up a vibe of a strained relationship in Mrs. Roan's room, but that's not for us to worry about, I guess. The Mister's room wasn't any better. Just docunts and stuff. His laptop was there, but it was locked down tight."
"Maybe if Alex were here, he could've cracked it open or sothing."
"No trace of any tablets or powder." Julian opened the car door, his face showing his frustration. "Was all of this just hitting a wall?"
After both adjusted themselves, Simon pressed the accelerator and drove towards their next destination, but where?
Both had thought before entering that house that they'd find sothing—anything which would help them open the next door of mystery. But now they don't even know the location of the door, much less the key itself.
"Should I try calling his office?" Julian asked, though both knew they'd get nothing, but they had to, just for internal satisfaction.
Simon didn't seem to care too much, only answering with a small, "Yeah."
Julian took out his phone from his pocket and searched for the na he had saved earlier.
After two rings, a reply ca back, "Hello, this is V-Two Brothers Finance, what can I help you with?"
"Yeah, can I talk with Steven Roan?" Julian replied with a steady tone, getting straight to the point.
"Okay, but before that, can I ask what business you have with Mr. Roan?"
"This is a personal matter; you don't need to know. Just connect with Steven." Julian knew that this would leave bad feedback on him, but who cares? Still better than wasting his breath and ti."
"Okay, wait for a minute."
Julian waited.
With nothing else to occupy his mind, he observed the streets. Sa as ever, he thought.
Cars, motorbikes, school buses. What was he even doing?
Honestly, Julian had thought before getting into this matter.
Even if this was a personal matter with Paul mainly, one way or another, everything later connects with the High Table.
Upon seeing Steven purchase tablets, he decided he would attempt to crack so layers first. When word later got out, his share of the effort would be evident, but fate was not on his side this ti.
"Hello, sir? Are you still there?"
"Yeah," Julian responded quickly, setting aside his thoughts for the mont.
"I'm sorry to inform you, sir, that Mr. Roan has taken a week's leave. However, if this is truly urgent, you can speak with another—"
"No, leave it. Do you know where he went, or anything about where he might go?" Julian inquired one last ti.
"I'm sorry, sir, but Mr. Roan didn't ntion anything about that, but—"
"Yeah, thanks." Julian ended the call, as the car stopped at a green light.
"Nothing," Julian said, his tone dejected.
As they waited for the green light, Julian's gaze was again drawn to the vehicles. He looked up and saw the numbers in red. Above was—
"How about we—"
Reviews
All reviews (0)