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9. The Key

I finally met Mr. Emerson, who had been waiting at L'Restaurante for quite some time. I plopped down on a chair and glanced around, making sure no one had followed me here.

"What brings you here, dear? Have you found out anything about your parents' deaths? I thought it was just an accident." Mr. Emerson sipped the coffee in his cup, then leaned in; maybe no one could overhear our conversation. "I couldn't believe it when I heard they had an accident. Didn't your parent come here on a private jet? Why would they return to Westmont on a commercial airplane?"

Mr. Emerson's words made me realize something that had escaped my mind. He was right. Mom and Dad were very concerned about time efficiency, and if they were rushing back, they had important things to do. If that's the case, shouldn't they ride a private jet instead of a public airplane?

I shook my head half-consciously after hearing the suspicions of the middle-aged man before me. I cast a glance around. There were a few diners
Kennie Re

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