Jonathan closed the door behind him and started making his way upstairs.
He was exhausted.
He had spent the entire evening with Michael and honestly, all he wanted right now was to crawl into bed and sleep.
"Not before I find out why I'm here."
"Master Rodney."
Jonathan stopped at the last step and turned around.
"Dinner is ready. Would you care for some?"
Jonathan smiled at his butler.
"Thanks, but I'm stuffed. Tell the cook I appreciate it, but I'm fine tonight."
James nodded and turned to leave.
"Uh, James."
The butler stopped.
"Yes, sir?"
"Is the home office locked?"
"No, sir. It's always open."
"Okay. Thank you, James."
James nodded once and walked away.
Jonathan continued upstairs and entered his room.
The first thing he did was head for the massive walk-in closet.
He looked around for something comfortable to wear, but most of Rodney's clothes looked expensive, boring, or both.
"Well, it seems Rodney was a boring person."
He sighed and continued searching.
Eventually, he found a grey sweatshirt and a pair of joggers.
Much better.
After changing, he left the room and started searching for the home office.
A few doors later, he found it.
The room was surprisingly neat.
Too neat.
The first thing that caught his attention was a framed photograph hanging on the wall.
Three men stood side by side with their arms crossed, all wearing confident expressions.
"Rodney's brothers or something?"
Jonathan pulled out his phone and snapped a picture.
He would look into that later.
Then he headed straight for the desk.
The surface was spotless.
No papers.
No sticky notes.
Nothing.
He frowned.
"No one keeps a desk this clean."
Jonathan began opening the drawers one by one and pulling out their contents.
Most of it was company paperwork.
Receipts.
Financial reports.
Meeting notes.
Boring stuff.
Then something caught his eye.
A folded map.
He pulled it out and spread it across the desk.
It was a map of Europe.
Sticky notes were scattered across different countries.
Jonathan frowned.
"What were you doing, Rodney?"
His eyes drifted toward a note attached to Croatia.
He peeled it off and read it.
Croatia.
Shipment #17.
Arrived with 42 registered containers.
Departed with 44.
Investigate discrepancy.
Jonathan blinked.
"Wait..."
He looked back at the map.
Then at the note.
Then back at the map.
Two extra containers?
That wasn't a typo.
That was a problem.
His attention shifted to a green file sitting nearby.
A small note had been attached to it.
Shipment Records.
Jonathan grabbed the file and dumped the contents onto the table.
Pages scattered everywhere.
Shipping logs.
Container numbers.
Customer information.
Delivery records.
His eyes moved across the pages.
The more he looked, the less sense it made.
Something wasn't adding up.
And somebody had clearly known it.
Jonathan pulled out his phone and took pictures of everything.
Just in case.
Then he noticed another pile tucked away in the corner of the desk.
Newspaper clippings.
He picked up the first one.
NORTH STAR BRANDING FACES THIRD BANKRUPTCY THREAT.
The next article showed Rodney standing behind a podium, speaking to reporters.
RODNEY VANGUARD PULLS NORTH STAR BRANDING BACK FROM THE BRINK.
Jonathan frowned.
That didn't sound like a criminal.
It sounded like a man trying to save a company.
He reached for another article.
Then another.
Several names had been circled in red ink.
Some had question marks beside them.
Others had angry scribbles written next to them.
One photograph had a single word written across it.
LIAR.
Jonathan felt a chill crawl up his spine.
Rodney wasn't hiding something.
Rodney was investigating something.
Suddenly, he felt dizzy.
He paused.
The room tilted slightly.
Jonathan rubbed his eyes.
Maybe he was just tired.
He hadn't exactly been sleeping well since waking up in someone else's body.
He reached for another file.
His vision blurred.
The words on the page started swimming.
"What the..."
Jonathan grabbed the edge of the desk.
The room spun.
Papers slipped from his hands.
The map of Europe slid from the table and scattered across the floor.
He tried taking a step forward.
Bad idea.
His knees gave out.
The last thing he saw was the red X marked over Croatia.
Then everything went black.