CHAPTER 98: CHAPTER 98: ACCOUNTANT PENELOPE PIERCE

The morning sunlight streamed through the large floor-to-ceiling windows of Sovera, casting bright patches on the floor.

The apartment was exceptionally quiet for a weekend, with only faint sounds coming from the kitchen.

Justin Holden was already up, dressed in simple gray loungewear, preparing breakfast at the kitchen counter.

Sunny-side-up eggs and bacon sizzled in the frying pan, while the toaster beside it pinged as perfectly browned toast popped up.

He smoothly plated the food and poured two glasses of milk.

Jesse, rubbing his eyes and dressed in cute rabbit pajamas, wobbled out of the children’s room, softly saying, "Uncle Holden, good morning."

"Good morning." Justin Holden placed her children’s plate on the dining table. "Go brush your teeth and wash your face, then come for breakfast."

"Where’s mom?" Jesse climbed onto the chair, peering around.

At this moment, Jean Ellison also emerged from the bedroom.

She had changed into a standard business suit, a white silk blouse, a black knee-length skirt, her hair was neatly tied back, and light makeup adorned her face, making her look efficient and cool, completely different from her usually gentle at-home appearance.

"Mom, are you going out?" Jesse asked.

Jean walked to the dining table and patted her daughter’s head. "Yes, there’s an urgent matter at the company today, and I need to work overtime."

She paused, her gaze shifting to Justin Holden, who was pouring coffee, her tone polite yet distant.

"Could you please watch Jesse at home today, is that okay?"

Justin Holden continued pouring coffee without any pause, not even looking up at her, and responded with a very faint "Mm," as a sign of agreement.

The sunlight outlined his cold and rigid profile, revealing no emotion.

Jean seemed accustomed to his demeanor and didn’t mind.

She quickly took a few bites of her breakfast, then picked up her briefcase and car keys from the sofa.

"I’m done eating, I’ll leave first. Jesse, listen to Uncle."

"Bye mom!" Jesse waved her little hand.

Jean hurriedly left, gently closing the door behind her.

The apartment was left with just the father and daughter.

Justin Holden placed the coffee cup on the table, sat down at his spot, and began eating in silence.

Jesse, on the other hand, diligently tackled the fried egg on her plate with her little spoon.

"Uncle Holden," Jesse suddenly looked up, egg crumbs still on the corner of her mouth, "Mom seems very busy lately? She even works on weekends."

Justin Holden’s hand holding the knife and fork paused almost imperceptibly. He looked up at his daughter, his voice calm, "Mm."

"Are you busy, Uncle?" Jesse asked again.

"Not really." Justin Holden replied, his tone flat.

"Oh," Jesse nodded, seemingly understanding, then lowered her head to eat again, murmuring quietly, "I wish Uncle and Mom could always play with me..."

Justin Holden slowed down his chewing, watching Jesse’s little head lowered, a complex emotion flashed deep in his eyes.

But he said nothing, only reached out with a tissue to gently wipe the egg crumbs from the corner of her mouth.

Jean did indeed go to the company.

By noon, Jean was surrounded by a few overtime workers on her floor in the otherwise empty office building.

After handling urgent documents, she rubbed her slightly sore neck and glanced at the time at the bottom right corner of her computer.

She picked up her phone, hesitated for a moment, and dialed a number.

The phone rang a few times before it was answered, and a steady male voice came through.

"Claire?"

"Captain Paxton," Jean lowered her voice, walking to the window, "is it convenient to talk now?"

"Yes, go ahead."

It sounded like Philip Paxton was outside, with wind noise and footsteps of passersby in the background.

"About the accountant who handled my dad’s company accounts that year, Aunt Lewis... are there any new leads?"

Jean asked with some urgency.

The other end of the call was silent for a few seconds before Philip Paxton’s voice came through, even lower.

"We’ve got a lead. We found a recent large sum of money wired to Penelope Pierce’s brother’s account, from an unknown source. Though it was transferred through several intermediaries and well-hidden, tracking it back points to an offshore shell company. But the trail goes cold there; they’re very cautious."

Jean felt her heart sink, "There’s still no way to prove she gave false testimony at the time, that she was bribed..."

"Don’t rush, Claire," Philip

Paxton comforted her, "since there’s money movement, there will be traces. I’ve already asked a friend at Interpol to keep an eye on that shell company’s activities. If they make another move, we’ll catch them."

Jean took a deep breath, "Thank you, Captain Paxton. I’m always troubling you."

"Why be so polite with me?" Philip Paxton chuckled, his tone becoming more relaxed, "Your concerns are my concerns. By the way, how have you been lately? Justin Holden... hasn’t noticed anything, has he? I doubt he’d be easy to deal with."

Jean instinctively glanced at her empty office. "It’s fine, he... hasn’t shown any sign of it."

"That’s good, but be extremely careful yourself. Contact me anytime if there’s anything."

"Mm. I will."

After hanging up, Jean looked at the bustling street outside the window, feeling no relief at all.

It’s been five years since her father’s wrongful death, the Caldwell family’s bankruptcy, her imprisonment, release, and the struggle to survive with her daughter.

Yet the true mastermind remains at large, perhaps even watching from the shadows.

She packed her things, picked up her briefcase, and decided to clock out.

Staying at the company would only add to her anxiety.

Meanwhile, at the children’s park near Sovera.

Justin Holden sat on a bench, watching Jesse engrossed in building sandcastles in the sandbox.

He held his phone in his hand, the screen showing an encrypted email interface, the latest email from his hired private detective.

The email contained a deep background check into the identity of "Jean Ellison," which remained spotless, with unimpeachable academic, work, and social security records, perfectly aligned timelines.

The more perfect it was, the more it confirmed his insane suspicion from last night.

This was a meticulously crafted identity.

He closed the email and made another call.

"It’s me." His deep voice spoke, "Investigate someone for me, Philip Paxton, the captain of the municipal detective unit. I want all his call records and activity reports for the past six months, as detailed as possible."

The person on the other end sounded hesitant, "Lawyer Holden, investigating a police officer... that’s quite risky."

"Double the pay." Justin Holden’s voice remained emotionless, "Get it to me as fast as possible."

He hung up, lifted his head, watching his daughter play without a care, his gaze becoming deep and unreadable.

Philip Paxton... he remembered this name.

A few years ago, the Caldwell family’s case, he seemed to be indirectly involved in some of the follow-up investigations.

How was Jean connected to him?

And it seemed their relationship was quite close.

When Jean left the company, it was already evening.

The sunset coated the high-rise glass facades of the city with a layer of warm gold.

She stopped at a red light, massaging her temples, feeling a wave of fatigue.

At that moment, a car drove past her, stopped, and the door opened.

Startled, she turned to look, and it was Philip Paxton, dressed in casual clothes.

Jean quickly asked, "Officer Paxton, what are you doing here?"