Chapter 130 Unconditionally Compensate You
Grace pressed her lips together, her gaze growing distant as she gave a quiet "Mm."
"I won't ask anymore." What kind of temporary insanity had possessed her to ask such a question?
She turned away and sat down on the edge of the bed. "Please leave."
Those words seemed to drain all her remaining strength.
Grace's eyes stung as she instinctively looked up at the ceiling. A tear rolled back and forth along her lower lashes, making her voice catch, "Get out. Close the door."
She'd always been stubborn, never liking anyone to see her tears or witness her vulnerable moments.
Alexander stood behind her, watching her shoulders tremble intermittently. His feet remained planted, his throat dry and scratchy.
He lowered his gaze, his Adam's apple moving slightly. Then suddenly, he turned and walked out of the room, closing the door behind him.
Grace bit her lip and raised her hand to wipe away the tear at the corner of her eye, but another immediately took its place. She frantically tried to stop them, but the tears only came faster, completely beyond her control.
Why was she crying? Why cry over something like this...
Wasn't his answer exactly what she'd expected?
What was there to be disappointed about?
But why...
Why couldn't she stop the tears?
Outside the door.
Alexander stood in the hallway, separated by the door, listening to Grace's muffled sobs. His heart felt like an invisible hand was hollowing it out.
Was it heartache?
Or guilt?
Or perhaps... because some of what he'd said wasn't entirely truthful?
Covering up that incident for Emily—it was because he owed Emily his life. Now he'd repaid that debt. It wouldn't happen again.
Those answers had come instinctively, but the moment they left his lips, he regretted them.
But words once spoken couldn't be taken back.
He didn't know how to explain, how to retract them. The truth was, if Emily had been the one pushed off that ledge, and Grace had been the one who pushed her, he might have protected Grace too.
By any means necessary.
Alexander reached for the door handle several times, gripping it and turning it slightly. The sound of the spring mechanism felt like something cutting through his heart.
He suddenly released it and spoke softly through the door, "Grace, that incident is in the past. From now on, I won't let anyone hurt you again. Including myself."
No sound came from inside the room.
Alexander continued, "This is my debt to you. I'll make it up to you unconditionally. Whatever you need me to do, as long as it's within my power, I'll do it."
He wouldn't make this woman cry anymore.
His phone rang at the worst possible moment.
Alexander answered the call—it was Jeremy.
"Yes?"
Jeremy said, "Mr. Hayes, I've brought in several former caretakers from the cemetery."
Alexander's expression grew serious. "Where are they?"
Jeremy replied, "At the office."
Half an hour later.
Alexander drove to the company, parked, and took the elevator to the appropriate floor.
Conference room.
He pushed open the door to find four elderly men sitting on the sofa. Some wore flannel shirts and looked quite aged, while others wore janitor uniforms with unkempt beards.
Jeremy stood nearby. When Alexander arrived, he stepped forward. "Mr. Hayes, these four men are former caretakers from West Hollow Cemetery. There were originally five, but one passed away from illness three years ago."
Alexander walked over.
The four elderly men grew visibly nervous, perhaps intimidated by Alexander's commanding presence, shifting uncomfortably in their seats.
One man in a janitor's uniform spoke up, "I retired two years ago and work as a custodian at a shopping mall now. Why did you bring me here?"
Alexander sat across from them, crossing his legs casually. "I'd like to ask about the management system at West Hollow Cemetery."
The four men exchanged confused glances. "West Hollow Cemetery has always been essentially unmanaged. Look, they called me a 'caretaker,' but honestly, I was just a watchman. I kept an eye on things—6 AM to 5:30 PM shifts."
Alexander said, "The ashes of a family member were interred at West Hollow Cemetery. Now those ashes have been stolen and replaced. I want to understand what happened, which is why I've brought you here."
An older man in a flannel shirt looked surprised, "How is that possible? Sir, you look like a wealthy businessman! If you have money, you could buy a plot anywhere. West Hollow Cemetery is so remote and desolate—only people in dire financial straits would bury their loved ones in a place like that."
Alexander paused, taken aback.
Jeremy interjected, "Sir, you don't need to question so much. I already asked on the way here—how does the management system work at West Hollow Cemetery? Surely there wasn't just one watchman for such a large cemetery?"
The man in the janitor uniform replied, "Ten or fifteen years ago, the cemetery had an administration office. There was a management office where people could handle paperwork, pay fees, arrange burials. But later, due to restructuring—some kind of incident happened—the office was eliminated. The original office building was converted into sleeping quarters. Usually just two or three watchmen, sometimes just one."
"Yeah, that cemetery is too desolate. The transportation is terrible—no subway, no buses. There used to be a shuttle service, but even that was cancelled."
"We really don't know anything about stolen ashes. We only worked days, and people usually came during daylight hours. But in such a huge cemetery, you get all kinds—people visiting graves, folks stealing offerings. We'd heard about ashes being stolen before, but these days, what kind of people steal ashes? Desperate criminals, mostly. And they usually come at night. What's an old guy like me supposed to do against people like that?"
"Eighteen hundred dollars a month to watch over such a massive cemetery—if we didn't live nearby, none of us would have taken that job."
"Right, after the village was demolished for development, I quit too."
The elderly men all talked over each other.
Jeremy glanced carefully at Alexander, reading his expression.
Alexander rubbed his temples, his face darkening.
"So you were just watchmen, and you know nothing about anything else?"
"That's right. The cemetery only had one security camera at the entrance, and it was always broken. In such a huge area up in the hills, if someone wanted to steal ashes, nobody would notice."
Alexander said, "Jeremy, have someone drive them home."
Jeremy nodded.
After escorting the elderly men out, he returned to find Alexander still sitting on the sofa, deep in thought.
Jeremy asked, "Mr. Hayes, how should we proceed with this matter? Should we continue investigating?"