Encore of the Avenging Muse (Sylvia and Rupert)

Chapter 101

"Ms. Lloyd, we're in trouble. The private dining room is empty, and the staff said the party left two hours ago."

"Who organized this meet-up?" Sylvia asked in a panic.

"It was... Mrs. Simpson, Bridget Simpson's mother. She said it was to introduce a big client as a way of making amends to you."

"Making amends to me without me there? How does that even make sense!" Sylvia barely registered the throbbing pain in her foot, standing up immediately. "Go find the manager now. Ask them to secure the CCTV footage. And do we still have a good connection with the chauffeur from the Garcia family?"

"Yes, we do."

"Please have him drive me over."

"No problem, Ms. Lloyd."

After hanging up, Sylvia wrapped herself in her coat, limping quickly out to the manor's driveway.

The chauffeur was already waiting. As soon as she got into the car, they sped off towards the restaurant.

Orson, who was just leaving the Garcia Manor, saw Sylvia's figure getting into the car and quickly called Rupert.

Rupert was in the middle of changing, his shirt unbuttoned as he answered the call.

"What's up?"

"Ms. Lloyd just rushed off in a car."

"I'm on my way."

...

At the restaurant.

help, Sylvia approached the manager. The manager glanced at her briefly

restaurant policy prohibits us from sharing surveillance footage. I must

implying. She was too insignificant for

out that door, I'll call the police and notify the Garcia family. You better pray there's nothing off in the footage. Otherwise, your days as a manager are numbered." The manager's lips tightened as

however, turned to

manager called out, "Follow

surveillance room, the manager reluctantly pointed

you, but the camera outside that particular room is broken. We haven't had a chance to

indifference reflected in his eyes. Clearly, he knew

move the mouse. "No worries, I'll just

explaining, "Ms. Lloyd, I understand you're anxious to find someone, but our guests are very private individuals. Our restaurant has promised not to disclose their comings and goings. You're putting me in a difficult position. The staff mentioned Edwin and

that, he shoved the mouse into his

tug-of-war, Sylvia pressed down her anger and asked politely, "Just one last question then." "Go

Mrs.

"Around nine."

you sure?" Sylvia fixed him with

corrected himself, "My mistake,

"Certain?"

"Absolutely," the manager nodded.

and left the surveillance