John
Now that I've finished changing my appearance, it's time to get to work. I need to find a connection between Monique Bell and the Trent White Corporation. That is, other than her helping me break it apart.
A security measure keeps me from being able to log into the SIA system thanks to my suspension. HOWEVER, I bent the rules earlier and copied the entire file onto a flash drive. I knew I was going to get in trouble with my involvement and that it might come to this.
I feel a slight twinge of conscience as I pull up the illegal copy of the file onto a computer I brought with me. I would never have done this if it hadn't have involved Elena.
Apparently, the Bridgeport agents had been tracking this guy and his cronies for years, but were unable to pin anything directly on him. He was much too good at cleaning up after himself. He was a suspect for a large number of cases, but no proof was ever successfully linked to him.
That is, until I caught him with my fiancée.
Other than that night when I killed him, I can find no evidence that Bell was anything but following the rules to the letter. I'm not surprised. Why should I find anything here in the file? Still, it was a good place to start.
I sit back in the chair and recall everything about that night. Everything I saw. I'm still amazed I actually took the elevator to the top without interruption. I wonder how I got so lucky.
Then I remember what I found when I got to the top. There was a redhead crying over the dead body of her friend. At least, I assume it was a friend. No one had been up there but the party guests and me by that time. None of the other officers or agents had made it to that level. Who shot the blonde girl? What happened to the redhead? I never saw her again after that.
I continue to wonder about the redhead and why it never occurred to me until now to wonder what happened with her. I guess I've had other problems. I wish I could call and ask Hugh his opinion on this matter, but I don't want to involve him. He'd just tell me to cool it and I could be getting in hotter water than I am even now. Of course, he should know better than to think I'm going to listen to that.
I decide to head down to a bar I saw mentioned a couple of times in the file, planning on just keeping my eyes and ears open.
Imagine my surprise when a familiar redhead walks in and sits a little ways down the bar from me. I watch her out of the corner of my eye for a few minutes before making a quick visit to the restroom.
Upon my return, I casually take the stool next to hers and feel her gaze sizing me up immediately.
"You look familiar." I say to her, hating the line. "I just can't figure out from where."
The corners of her mouth twitch up for a second. "I could say the same thing about you." she says as her eyes scan me from head to toe. Then she turns her head and orders herself some coffee. The bartender lets her know she'll need to wait for the pot to brew. She doesn't appear to mind. I order a beer.
"So, next you're going to ask me if I come here often?" she says with one eyebrow cocked.
I can't help but lean back as I laugh. I'm suddenly glad I no longer have to go through the dating scene anymore. She smiles back at my laugh as the lady sitting next to her jumps in surprise.
"No, seriously. I think it was at some party." I say with a smile.
"Hmmm. I go to alot of parties. Could be." Now her eyes really consider me and I see a flash of real curiosity.
"As do I." I rejoin just as cryptically as her statement.
"Then why haven't we met before now?" she asks.
I shrug, "It's a big city."
"Mmm." she says non-noncommittally.
Our drinks get set before us, and I let out a sad sigh as I say, "Of course, it couldn't have been real recently. I just got back from a friend's funeral."
"It's terrible when a friend dies. Sorry for your loss." she says with sadness in her voice.
"You say that like you know first hand." I say.
"I do." she says as I watch her face for signs of remorse. There are none.
"What happened?" I ask.
She sighs sadly. "She was shot."
"Small world. So was my friend. Wrong place at the wrong time kind of thing." I say sadly.
"Sad how that happens alot." she says and I nod.
"Indeed." I say. "Saddest part is he was shot by someone I thought was a friend. Then the guy just up and disappeared. They can't find him. I wish I could. I'd wring his neck."
I sigh sadly like the whole situation is hopeless.
"Hm. It's sometimes TOO easy to disappear." she says and I'm instantly on alert. She turns her head towards me and speaks quietly, "Perhaps I could help."
"Hah." I say in mock disbelief. "What could a cute little thing like you do to help?" I glance over at her to see the corners of her mouth raise in a devious smirk.
"It's all in who you know." she says cryptically. "What's your name, stranger?"
"Link Miller." I say and hold out my hand for a handshake.
"Link?" she asks as she shakes my hand.
"Yes. I don't know what my mother was thinking." I grin.
She laughs merrily. I ask her what her name is and she answers, "Dianna Goodwin."
She used her real name. I've seen it before.
I turn back to my drink and sigh wistfully. "I don't know what you or the people you know could do that the cops can't."
"Maybe they just don't know the right people. You sure you know who killed him?" she says and asks.
"Considering he skipped town just after, yeah." I say and she nods like she understands. I turn to her, "So. You can really help me?"
She tries to stifle a laugh at my goofy expression. I act like I still don't believe her.
"Perhaps we can talk about this at a later date, and not here." she says quietly.
"Ah, I gotcha." I say and make a show of moving my eyes side-to-side like a rookie. She smiles condescendingly.
"Finish your beer and let's dance." she commands.
"Yes ma'am!" I say and mock salute her.
She's not a bad dancer. Bit like Elena without the clumsiness. I miss the clumsiness. Focus, John.
I feel her continually size me up, and I wonder what she's thinking.
"So," I say quietly, "how would I repay you for your help, should I ask for it?"
She's quiet for a few more minutes.
She leans in and quietly speaks back to me, "Repay a favor with a favor. I too know who killed my friend."
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