What If?

Chapter 15 - The Brown Envelope

Glenn walked at a brisk pace through the dimly lit interior of a cafe nestled in a corner of the city. His gaze locked straight onto his target, while Jerry loyally followed close behind with equally sharp steps.

"Where exactly are they?" Jerry whispered, slouching slightly as his eyes darted around warily; they had been circling the private section of the cafe for a while now.

"Over there," Glenn pointed in a low voice, barely a whisper. He gestured with his chin toward the farthest corner of the cafe, obscured by a thick partition of ornamental plants.

There, a sharp-eyed man wearing a flat cap and a dark jacket sat entirely alone, positioning himself with his back to the cafe’s security cameras. Jerry thought to himself that the whole vibe felt incredibly sketchy and tense, looking exactly like a secret agent rendezvous straight out of a spy thriller.

Without wasting a second, Glenn pulled out a wooden chair across from the man and sat straight down. Jerry quickly took his position beside Glenn, throwing on an equally alert expression.

"So, what’s the word? Did you get what I asked for?" Glenn asked, getting straight to the point without beating around the bush even for a fraction of a second. He despised wasting time.

The man in the flat cap didn't answer right away. His eyes flicked to Jerry for a brief second before he reached inside his dark jacket. He slowly slid a thick, manila folder across the marble table, bringing it to a stop right in front of Glenn’s fingers.

"I’ve gathered all the independent investigation results you asked for, Boss," the man said, his voice muffled. "But honestly... it’s weird. The official police report from yesterday is incredibly sketchy, and it looks like they rushed to close the case."

Glenn fell silent, his eyes locking onto the manila folder with an incredibly intense, dark stare. It hadn’t even been a month since that bleak day, the day his mother’s private yacht exploded in the middle of the ocean. It happened so suddenly, exactly two days before she was scheduled to attend a major gala to accept a prestigious award. Her sudden departure left behind a barrage of massive, nonsensical questions.

Beside him, Jerry held his breath, feeling the atmosphere in the corner of the cafe suddenly plummet to an icy chill.

"What do you mean, sketchy?" Glenn hissed, his jaw tightening.

The man leaned forward slightly, whispering tensely.

"The police simply ruled it a technical accident, but there were absolutely no details provided. Meanwhile, my team’s inspection of the remaining engine valve wreckage shows strong indications that the yacht was intentionally sabotaged before it sailed."

Glenn squeezed his eyes shut for a few seconds. Flash after flash of memories instantly spun into chaos inside his head. As far as Glenn could remember, ever since his mother's funeral, he had barely been able to catch a night of sound sleep. Every time he closed his eyes, the exact same dream would replay over and over again. A dream that felt so real, suffocating, and cold, where his mother’s face would appear with a sorrowful gaze, as if she were desperately trying to whisper a message that cut off before Glenn could ever hear it.

Those dreams were no ordinary tricks of the mind. Glenn knew it. Deep down, his soul revolted, screaming that his mother’s death was far from a simple accident.

"I only need confirmation on one thing," Glenn said, opening his eyes again, his gaze now razor-sharp and dangerous. "The yacht was definitely sabotaged, wasn't it? Someone intentionally blew my mom up?"

The man in the cap nodded slowly. "The evidence points strongly in that direction, Boss."

Glenn took a long, deep breath, suppressing the roaring fury burning inside his chest. His sharp mind immediately began piecing together the fragments of this puzzle, which had been intentionally left blurred.

There was still one thing that baffled him, a thought he couldn't seem to shake. What exactly was this award his mother was supposed to attend just two days after the incident? Just how massive and important was this award that someone would go to such ruthless lengths to stop her?

Glenn clenched his fists beneath the table, cursing himself. When the fatal incident occurred, he wasn't even in the country, tied down by an assignment in Italy. He hadn't had the chance to ask a single question or even have a proper chat with his mother back then. Out of nowhere, the devastating news simply landed on him.

Does it make sense for this to be the work of a business rival? Glenn thought suddenly, his mind starting to speculate wildly. Was there another company so envious of Mom’s massive achievements that they would resort to a crazy sabotage like this just to stop her from accepting that award?

Jerry, who had been listening intently the entire time, couldn't help but chime in. He leaned forward, whispering curiously, "But Boss, if this really is the work of an envious competitor... how would they even know your mom's personal schedule in such specific detail? Enough to target her private yacht?"

Glenn fell silent. Jerry’s question hit the mark, proving that this puzzle had a remarkably clean, calculated thread to it. But no matter what it took, Glenn swore he would unearth the real truth on his own terms.

Glenn tapped the surface of the manila folder with his finger, then gave his informant a cold stare. "Keep all these documents safe. Make sure not a single soul knows you're in contact with me."

Glenn then turned to Jerry, giving him a subtle look that his assistant understood instantly.

"Our business out here is done. Now it's time to head back to the office," Glenn said, a faint, icy smirk playing across his handsome face.

The man in the flat cap nodded in understanding, quickly adjusting his jacket as he stood up. "I'll take my leave first, Boss," he said, extending his hand.

Glenn took his hand, gripping it firmly. "Thanks. If any further info comes up, no matter how small, let me know right away like usual."

After the informant walked away and disappeared past the cafe doors, Glenn and Jerry didn't leave immediately. The two of them remained seated in that dimly lit corner. Glenn leaned his back against the chair, massaging his temples and heavy eyelids. His head felt like it was about to split open from trying to untangle this twisted knot.

"Jerry," Glenn called out suddenly, his voice sounding raspy. "When my mom went out on that yacht... who was she with? Was it you?"

Jerry blinked in utter confusion, staring at his boss in disbelief. Is this guy actually losing his mind from stress, or what?

"I went to Italy with you, Glenn! If I had been on that yacht with your mom... I’m pretty sure I wouldn't be standing in front of you looking this good. You'd be talking to a ghost right now," Jerry replied with a dry, sarcastic smirk.

Glenn clicked his tongue in annoyance, throwing him a deadpan look. "Tch."

Seeing the lines of grief and regret etched on his best friend’s face, Jerry let out a soft sigh. His tone softened. "Look, what I mean is... you know me. I would never let anything happen to your mom. If I had been there, I would've protected her until my very last breath."

Glenn fell silent. His gaze suddenly drifted far out through the cafe window, looking back on the grief that hadn’t even been a month old. The next second, Glenn turned and locked eyes with Jerry again, a sharp intensity suddenly returning to his stare, as if a vital piece of his brilliant mind had just clicked into place.

Jerry, catching the drastic shift in Glenn’s expression, immediately leaned forward as well. Having lived and worked alongside him for years, both as his assistant and his best friend, Jerry could practically read what was racing through Glenn’s mind.

There was one crucial detail from the evacuation team’s report that they had overheard in passing a while back.

​"Jer... when that accident report came out, the Coast Guard officially stated there were zero survivors, right?" Glenn hissed, his voice dropping into a low, intense whisper. "But you heard the rumor too, didn't you? Is it true that someone actually made it out alive that night?"

​Jerry froze, his eyes widening as the pieces began to shift in his mind. "Yeah, you're right. I caught wind of a rumor that a crew member was pulled from the water before the yacht completely went under. But the Coast Guard locked that information down instantly."

​"I don't care how tight their lock is," Glenn commanded, his eyes flashing with a cold, dangerous resolve. "Find out who we can pull into our circle for this. I need a name, Jer someone who can crack their internal data open and track down where that witness is hiding."

​Jerry gave a firm nod, already reaching into his pocket for his phone. "Understood. I'll find the right asset for the job."

*****