Bruce looked up at him, frowning. "The investigation into the Riverbend case has stalledpletely. We''ve looked into the Walker family and Eden, and on the surface, there are no major issues. Without concrete evidence, mere suspicion only allows us to bring them in for questioning, and then we have to politely send them on their way."


    "For a crime this wless, it had to be an inside job. Since we''re not getting anywhere, why not change our approach? Keep a close watch on the Riverbendnd," Bet said, taking a drag from his cigarette.


    "What do you mean?" Bruce asked.


    "The wholemotion with the Riverbend case was just to clear the area for smuggling operations, wasn''t it? If you stake out thend and crack down on smuggling, the culprit will eventually reveal themselves."


    Bet spoke in a calm, unhurried tone.


    "I''m only in charge of this homicide case for now. I''ll need the customs enforcement unit to cooperate on any smuggling investigation," Bruce stated.


    Bet finished his cigarette, stubbing it out in the ashtray. "Mr. Jones, you''ve been interrogating me for a while now. Can I go downstairs?"


    "What for? It''s not like Monica needs yourpany," Bruce said, puzzled.


    "Monica might not, but Yvonne does," Bet replied with a faint smile.


    "Yvonne''s here?" Bruce craned his neck to look out the window and saw the extra car in the yard. He waved his hand dismissively. "Ah, Yvonne''s here. Go on, then, go on."


    Bet nodded and strode out of the study.


    He descended the staircase and, as he reached the ground floor, he could hear the sound of Yvonne and Monica''sughtering from the kitchen.


    Bet didn''t disturb them. He sat down alone in the living room, picked up the remote, and turned on the TV, idly watching the news.


    The news had recently stopped covering the Riverbend case, shifting its focus to the Thompson family''s projects.


    Because of the case, the Riverbend project had been put on hold. The funds of the transportpany Eden managed were all tied up in thatnd. With the property unable to be liquidated, operations were likely struggling.


    Thepany


    Bet wasn''t interested. He changed the channel.


    Yvonne was helping Monica bake a cake in the kitchen.


    In the past, Monica had always baked her a birthday cake by hand.


    The cake was simple: a baked sponge topped with white frosting, with "Happy Birthday, Yvonne" written in chocte sauce.


    Once the cake was ready, Yvonne carried it to the dining table. Turning around, she saw Bet sitting in


    the wing room his back straight, his gaze deep and serene.


    "Finished your chat with Mr. Jones?" Yvonne asked with a smile as she approached him.


    "Yeah," Bet nodded, standing up and moving to her side. "It''s been a while since I''ve had Mrs. Jones'' cake."


    "Then you''re in for a treat today, thanks to me," Yvonne said yfully, dabbing a bit


    of frosting from the cake onto Bet''s cheek.


    "Don''t mess around," Bet said, his gaze a mixture of helplessness and affection. He wiped the frosting off his cheek.


    Monica came out of the kitchen


    after finishing the cooking and saw


    them standing by the table "What


    are you two doing, just staring at


    each other? Come and help me with the dishes."


    "Coming!" Yvonne called back, then nudged Bet. "Go help Mrs. Jones with the food."


    "You''re good at bossing people around, aren''t you?" Bet chuckled, following Monica into the kitchen.


    Yvonne went upstairs to call Bruce for dinner.