Eros and Cats Labyrinth

It was a night like any other night. A night in a city full of criminals, petty thieves, a rapist or two yet to be caught, a murder waiting to happen. Any number of things that could’ve happened. It always did in a big city. It happened every minute, and sometimes it could be stopped and other times it couldn’t. You had to be prepared, cautious of it, because the darkness could swallow you whole while you waited to do that one thing.

For Special Agent Katrina Lancaster, tonight, that thing was simple. Get the Snickers bar, and go home. It had been a really long, very boring day full of paperwork, and all she wanted was a Coke and a snickers bar. She was exhausted, and pissed off already, so she wasn’t paying as much attention when she set foot into the little store on the corner of the block. It was a place she came often, and she knew most of the people who frequented here, and those who worked here. She had only been browsing for about five minutes when a masked man came in, waving a gun. The others were obviously scared, but not her. Katrina eyed the suspect as he demanded the cash from the register, and unwrapping the candy bar, bit off the first little bit while she watched the interaction of the man she had arrested and questioned more times than she could count, with a bored expression on her face.

“Give me the fucking money, fool!” The masked man nearly screamed, while Katrina could only laugh.

“Jesus, Steven. Fool? Really? This is sad.” The Agent spoke up, which had the man turning the gun on her. She didn’t look intimidated in the least. Sighing, she reached into the aisle, and pulled out the diapers. She then tossed them at him. “Don’t be stupid. Just take the diapers, and go. Your family is gonna need you out here a lot more than they’re gonna in you in jail, which you’re about three seconds from me deciding I’m just bored enough to do.”

Looking grateful, but not as confused as he should have been, he looked down at the diapers the Agent had just thrown at him, then looked a second too long at one of the employees, before backing out slowly, running as if he had just gotten away. He had, really, but the Agent knew he wasn’t really trying to hurt anyone. Once he left, Katrina sighed and looked at the owner. “You can press charges if you want, but before you do, I just have a question.” She asked as she casually walked over to the register, her hazel-green eyes looking towards the monitor. “Your security cameras have been out since yesterday afternoon. And I couldn’t help but hear when I was in here yesterday, that Kenny over here,” She said as she eyed a 22-year-old male, who looked increasingly more panicked by the second, “Just begging you to take today’s shift. He’s been eyeing the door every ten minutes since I was in here, which signals to me only two words. Inside. Job.”

As she said this, Kenny got spooked, and made to rush for the door. The building was much too small for him to really go anywhere, so it was easy for Katrina to step in and intervene. Kenny threw himself clumsily at Katrina, trying to get her out of the way, which would’ve worked on somebody who wasn’t trained. For Katrina, this only gave her the momentum to grab his teenage body, and flip him onto his back. He tried to struggle against her, but with Katrina holding a wrist that she was rather close to breaking, the teenager lost the fight. She secured his hands just as quickly, and did a full body pat, which uncovered the knife he was definitely planning on using, as she used the only thing she could find to secure him. Zip-ties, located within the store. After securing him, she stepped back and pulled out a twenty. She set it on the counter, and looked at the owner. “For the candy. And, call the cops.”

Walking outside, she actually discovered a unit not too far away. After identifying herself to them, and explaining what happened, Katrina made her way back to her shitty little one bedroom apartment, where the halls smelled of constant fish oil, and the noise never stopped. The apartment door held several locks, and she undid each one, and then did all of them up again once she stepped inside. Stepping inside made her realize that the store robber…had been the entire highlight of the last few months. The last months had been terrible for Katrina, but she wasn’t letting it affect her. Much.

The next day was starting to serve more of the same. Katrina went into work, received her assignment, and sat down at her cubicle to work. It was a slow process, a painstaking one sometimes, but she didn’t complain. She knew she had been assigned to this, and not to the field where she had been trained, for a very specific reason. She hated it, she couldn’t stand it. But she understood it, and so, despite the fact that she didn’t think it was doing any good for her, she did it without complaint.

Around lunch that day, six months after she had been taken out of the field, a call came in that would change everything. Katrina hadn’t been paying attention to it, as she wasn’t currently allowed to be involved with active cases, so she was surprised when her lunch hour was invaded. She looked up from the file she was studying to see her old partner standing there, looking down at her.

“Lancaster! Hope you’re not too rusty. Director wants you on this today.” An attractive man, by the name of Agent Christian Sands, said nothing else as he held out a file marked ‘Confidential’, which made her brow furrow in terrible confusion.

“You’re fucking with me. There’s no way the Director wants me near any—“ The sentence was stopped as Katrina’s eyes looked down at the open file. Her entire demeanour changed and her body went tense as her eyes rested upon the pictures included in the file. “Where is this, Christian?”

Christian watched her closely through sharp green eyes. He watched as her eyes hardened, and closed off any emotion, even boredom that she may have been feeling. She went stone-cold right infront of his eyes. “Louisiana. There’s a briefing in two minutes.”

Katrina managed to stay calm during the briefing, even though she was asked a thousand and one times over the course of it if she could handle this. Damn right she could handle this, she thought and told them so. They looked doubtful, but it could not be denied that there was no person better for this. That was how, less than two hours later, Katrina found herself on a plane to Louisiana. In that time, her team discussed theories, and possibilities, but what Katrina was really interested in was this bar they kept mentioning, and its mysterious owner.

From what she understood, that bar was the very last place that the victim had been seen, but as far as she could tell, nobody had been there yet. Or if they had, they didn’t do a thorough job of it. It was not the place her victim had been found, but it was the last place anyone had known her to be. Katrina pondered the significance of it as the plane began touching down. It was late in the afternoon when her team arrived, and the first few minutes in the police station told Katrina that this was not going to be an easy task. For one, the evidence they had collected was laughable. Nearly so laughable that Katrina wondered why they had been called. For two, the cops here were clearly cops that had grown up together, as they whispered to themselves as her team took over what they considered to be their ‘conference room.’ And finally, getting interview, or any other kind of information from them was like pulling teeth.

While her team set up, Katrina was itching to hit the streets, so the minute she could, she put herself on the street. She started with a survey of the area, what kind of town it was, what kind of people lived here. A general basis kind of knowledge that she could refer to later. After that, she started questioning, working her way through person after person that was willing to talk to her, which as she found out, was everyone. She got a massive influx on information, which she found incredibly suspicious. She kept those thought to herself, silently ruling them out as she made mental lists of who played a significance.

The general consensus she gathered was that, the woman was lovely. No enemies, plenty of friends, well known and well liked. Married, but the husband had been out of town. He was number one on Katrina’s list to talk too. Not because she suspected him in this case, but because she needed to understand pattern. She spoke to everyone who would speak to her, but what she found interesting was the fact that all of them mentioned that her victim would frequent one specific bar every couple of weeks with her friends. When Katrina asked what the bar was, her head snapped up as she heard the name of the bar that was on the top of her list. She thanked the woman, and then decided it was more than high-time to check out this bar.

After checking in with her partner, and securing the necessary search warrants, Katrina drove to the bar. She took a good look around the parking lot, at least the one she was in, trying to determine exit, and paint herself a picture of what may have happened that night. A little image played in her mind as she walked the lot, but it didn’t quite feel right. Straightening out her suit jacket, currently unbuttoned, she turned around to step inside the bar. To say it looked so much different inside would be an understatement. She was almost impressed, she thought as she took off her glasses, and looked around the darkened area. Not as dark as it would’ve been, naturally, but still.

“Excuse me, ma’am. We’re not open yet.” A voice distracted Katrina’s thoughts as her mind was running through its movie.

Katrina heard the voice, and turned towards it. She waited for the woman to speak, and then pulled out her badge. “I’m afraid this building is under federal investigation. I’m Special Agent Lancaster, head of the investigation.”

Shockingly, the woman didn’t seem all that surprised, which immediately made Katrina suspicious. “Ah, yes. I’m Pam, the bar manager. How can we help?”

“For starters, I’m going to want to interview everyone currently here, and was here the night of the disappearance. Is there an area I can set up to do that? Any cameras you may have, I will need the tapes. And I’d like to speak to your boss as well.” Katrina told her, looking around the room.

Pam nodded. “We can set you up in the back corner. We’re still setting up to open tonight, which I hope we’ll be allowed. But my boss won’t be here until sundown. He never is.”

Katrina thought that was weird, but then made the logical thought that if he owned and operated a nightclub, he likely slept during the day, and Katrina could see enough people in the bar that she didn’t feel the immediate need to wake him. “You’ll open. After I conduct my initial interviews.” She was stone cold when she said it, and followed Pam to the table to begin her interviews, and to wait for this mysterious owner she heard so much, yet so little about.

4:45pm – The bedroom

In a pitch-black room on the second floor of a glorious white antebellum plantation home slept the bar owner. He was lying face down, sprawled out like a starfish, on a bed a black silk sheets, that seemed to only cover the lower halve of his body. His back, outstretched arms, and white blonde hair was a radiant contrast to the deep black of the sheets. He didn’t stir. He didn’t breathe. Was he dead? Yes, but not in the way you think. He was a vampire. Relatively young in the blood, as was the saying among his kind. He was only 256 years old, about to be 257 years old in a few months. But he was more cunning than normal vampires and had discovered ways of making himself stronger, smarter, and more talented than any other vampire he had come across in this modern age. He could read minds, though he chose not to, he could fly, he could crush a diamond with the smallest effort between his thumb and forefinger. He was a social butterfly, which made him endlessly resourceful, and he was the most potent and lovable vampire ever created, a supernatural knockout, if you will. His newest kick, which had landed him in the biggest mess in New York was that he wants to save souls by the millions. He wants to do good far and wide. And he wants to fight evil. The problem is, he thrives on evil. He desires evil. He considers himself an irredeemable villain and this was his way to atone for his villainous ways.

What, you might ask, would bring a vampire like him to a backwater nowhere town in Northen Louisiana? Hiding, of course. Thirteen years ago, he had “appeared” – actually it was a reappearance but no one in living memory knew him – and burst onto the bar scene. He was a award winning master mixologist from Las Vegas, a celebrated master of ceremonies and just an all around fun guy that he was hired at every bar he applied to in the French Quarter on Bourbon Street in New Orleans. With so many job offers, he ended up working one night at each of the bars, making him work seven days a week. Did he mind? Hell No. A life where the fun never ended was his Nirvana. Within the first year of returning the New Orleans he had secured the title of the “bartending vampire of Bourbon Street”. I title he held in great esteem. Thanks to some very famous authors, New Orleans had become a literal mecca for all things supernatural, especially the vampire. So why wouldn’t the most famous bartender in the Big Easy not be a vampire? It made sense to the tourists, the locals, and the bar owners loved it. Whatever bar he was in that night, thanks to his natural magnetism, made more money than any other bar that night. You can only imagine that after twelve years; the city mourned his leaving. But leave he must. He wasn’t aging. His life and routine never changed. And, regardless of how much you loved your job, people suffered burn out and needed change.

One year ago, he said goodbye to his favorite city in the entire world and headed to New York City. He wanted to go to Las Vegas where he owned property and half the casinos. But Las Vegas was too close to his broken heart. He had been in only one committed relationship in his existence, and he had lost her in Las Vegas. She was still very much alive, but she had found her true mate. He didn’t resent her. He was happy for her. But his heart, even after twenty years, was still quite broken. With his era in New Orleans ending and Vegas not an option, he headed to New York. New York was not his town. He did nothing but bad there. He couldn’t even let his mind remember the damage he had done. He fled New York after only a year and landed in Monroe, Louisiana. The population is around 48,000. A small-ish hamlet where he, one again, thrived. He opened a bar and named it ‘The New Orleans Vampire’ , which he proudly was. But his reputation wouldn’t travel as far south as New Orleans for he wasn’t the featured bartender. In this story, he is merely the humble bar owner. He had trained his staff thoroughly with all his bartending know-how, which made his bar the most popular in three parishes.

5pm – The bedroom

His head lifted as his eyes slowly opened. He blinked a few times, letting his body wake up a little more before he tried to move. Even though he was conscious, it still took a few minutes for his body to fully reanimate. A few minutes later he had rolled over onto his back and stretched as a yawn escaped him. He rubbed his eyes with both his hands and then sat up. He threw the sheets off his naked form and scooched out of the bed. He stood and stretched again. He was a sight to behold, that was for sure. To call him arrogant regarding his appearance was an understatement. He had been hearing about his beauty on an hourly basis for over a hundred and fifty years, wouldn’t that go to anyone’s head? When he was asked, he would cheekily respond with, “Imagine the world famous statue of Michelangelo’s David, then make him even more perfect and you’ll have me.” Though arrogant regarding his appearance, he was not arrogant in nature. He was a generous soul and a perpetual philanthropist. He gave money away like it was nothing. He had an eye for talent and nurtured it when he found someone deserving. But as generous as he was, no one ever hung out with him for long. He was a lonely soul, which is what fueled the party life.

He is the perfect imitation of a blond, blue-eyed, six-foot Anglo-Saxon male. His eyes are a piercing blue. His mouth is well shaped and can look very mean or extremely generous. It always looks sensual. His emotions and attitudes are always reflected in his entire expression, while having a continuously animated face. His fangs are there but are too small to be noticed unless he wants them to be, they're very sharp, capable of ripping through flesh like it was nothing. Most people think his fangs are fake and that was perfectly suitable for him. He loved that he was a vampire, but he was good at playing it up in such a theatrical way that no one would suspect there was any truth to it.

Still naked, he shuffled out of his room, down the hall, and flopped into his leather office chair. He rolled it up to his desk and bumped his mouth, waking up his computer. He spent an hour or so checking how his investment portfolios were doing. Checking that the buying and selling by his brokers had been successful. He then spent another hour or so moving money around. One of the music artists he assisted had done extraordinarily well in her recent ticket sales and he gave her a significant advancement of funds, while tucking the remaining few million into a money market account to grow interest. Satisfied with the money, he switched over to emails. He spent another hour dealing with his many, many businesses. It was now 8pm and he was done with his online work.

He sauntered into the media room and turned on the TV. He wasn’t a fan of TV, but it was noise and something comforting. He didn’t know what he was watching or what was actually going on. He just knew that there were images on the screen, and they were voices to quiet the ghosts in his mind. He flopped on the couch and tried to pay attention for about thirty minutes, which was all he could take before he switched the nonsense off and went back to his room. He wasn’t a suit guy anymore. The Victorian era had him living in tight-necked, quaffed, dandy-looking attire, that he entertained when it was appropriate. However, in this modern age where fashion was anything but suits, he embraced the modern and enjoyed the more casual nature. Tonight, he was in a pair of designer black jeans with intended rips at strategic points on the knees and hips. You couldn’t see skin, but the distressed look was present. He was also wearing a stylish, very expensive, button-up silk black shirt. If anyone were to touch him, they would get a sense of what they would feel if he were to lay them down in his bed. He never took anyone home with him from the club, but he enjoyed the tease, and this shirt would be his tease of the night. He finished off his outfit with black leather shoes and a leather jacket. It wasn’t cold outside even though it was October, but the jacket just made the look.

He grabbed his keys and wallet, tucking them into their proper pockets. When he grabbed his phone there was a long text from Pam. He opened and read. His head cocked to the side and his brow furrowed. My the fuck was there an FBI agent in his bar? His interest was piqued and now tonight had gotten a lot more interesting. He chose one of his flashy cars for tonight. An Aston Martin Vanquish that had been completely blacked out, with the exception of the bucket seats, which were a deep blood red. He slid into his car and opened the garage door. He pulled out of the garage, closed it behind him, and pushed the button for the gate that separated his house from the street. He pulled out past the gate and into the street. He drove through the town and, about ten minutes later, pulled into the parking lot of his club.

10:30pm – The New Orleans Vampire

The club had been open for a little more than thirty minutes. He got out of his car and locked it, setting the alarm. Into the bar he went. He patted his head security officer on the back as he passed. It was clear Randell was ready to disclose the information about the FBI agent, but he gave his security office a crooked smile, “Pam gave me the heads up. Everything should be fine. Just keep your eyes open like every night.” As he got past security he made his way onto the dance floor one had to pass through to get to the main bar and was immediately approached by several patrons. He didn’t look like a bar owner arriving at work, but a popular customer ready to have fun. He shook hands, high-fived, hugged, and even got a few unintentional kisses. It took him several minutes to pry himself away from the gang that looked like they were there to hang out with him specifically. But he managed to escape and headed to the main bar where he leaned over the bar like he was ordering something and talked to the bartender. Pam was there, waiting for him, and all he had to do was nod in the direction of the back corner where the FBI agent had settled themselves. Ready to figure out what was going on, he smacked the bar playfully and headed to meet the agent.

He hadn’t been expecting a female agent. He stopped midway to where she was sitting and had to recover a bit. She was…well…she was fucking hot. Something about the black hair, the toned body – which was covered up by an atrocious power suit – but it was the stern look and her eyes. Oh, for the love of all that is unholy in this world, her eyes were beguiling. They were large and deep. Was he ever in trouble. He took a deep breath, pushed his attraction to the back of his mind, and continued forward. “Special agent, I presume?” His voice was silky, like melted honey, with an accent that screamed southern gentleman with his natural French giving his voice a bit more color. He gave her one of his most charming smiles. “Welcome to Monroe. And, welcome to my humble establishment. May I get you anything?”

Katrina had been set up at a little table in the back, which they did to kind of keep her out of the way, and while she could have made a bigger deal about it, it actually allowed her to watch the club from every angle, and allowed her minds-eye to paint a picture of the way the patrons might move. One by one, she conducted extensive interviews, and absorbed each of the answers as she was given them. She took extensive notes, challenged answers and took note of everybody’s alibis for the time of death. She had to check into everyone still, but she was making progress with the staff.

Once that was done, quite a few hours later, Katrina still sat at the table. She had called Christian, and the two updated each other on their progress. He was on with the body, and the marks discovered were absolutely disturbing, but to Katrina, relatively unsurprising. After her call, Katrina interviewed Pam with all the same questions, and then Katrina was asked if she wanted anything. Katrina did allow herself some coffee, if they had it, but nothing else as she carried on with the interviews.

At 10PM, she was done with the interviews of the staff, and after another phone call to Christian and her team, Katrina was curious how the bar opened, and ran. Plus she was still waiting for the owner. As the time ticked by, the agent watched every angle. She watched people enter, and who they spoke too. She watched the way the bartenders took care of the patrons. She listened to the conversations that took place around her.

She learned quite a lot about this bar and its patrons in a short time, her analyst mind painting a picture of an average night, and then what she knew so far of her victim. She could easily see how it had happened, except for the fact that the security was tight. Everywhere she looked, she saw the guards, and she could imagine where at least a few of the cameras might be. She still had pieces to put together, she knew, but the problem was she was almost sure that she knew the missing piece. She just wanted to be wrong, because it might be the only thing to stop the churning in her stomach.

At a little after 10:30, she saw someone else come in. He was young, pale, obviously charming by the way he was immediately friendly with literally everyone. She studied him as he moved through the crowd. He was eye-catching, no doubt, the kind that might know more than he thinks. Just as she was getting ready to walk over and talk to him, he surprised her by approaching first, though he paused first as if struck.

What she was really not expecting was his words. She had expected him to flirt, but she had not expected him to welcome her to his establishment. His establishment. She blinked those beguiling eyes once before she stood, and looked him up and down. At his first inquiry, she nodded. “Yes. Special Agent Katrina Lancaster.” At his second question, she spoke firmly and without a flirt. “Just your name and a few, potentially long, minutes of your time.” She realized how that might have sounded just as she said it, but her expression or tone did not shift from stone. Thankfully, she thought.

He loved that look on people’s faces. That How is that kid a bar owner look. It always made him smile inwardly. She stood to officially introduce herself to him and the first thing he noticed was just how short she was. Well, she wasn’t really short, she was an average height for a woman in this day and age, but her presence made it seem like she should be taller. He committed her name to memory Agent Katrina Lancaster. He searched through his memories and came to find out she would be the first Katrina he had ever met. She would be popping his ‘Katrina’ cherry then. He was toying with ideas in his mind when her words caught him off guard. He didn’t think she had meant them the way she said them. He, having the emotional maturity of a twenty-one-year-old, had to bite back the laugh. He didn’t laugh in her face, but he wasn’t able to keep the stone-cold seriousness either. It was something in between. With the laughter still in his voice he said with a minor flirt, “Oh, I have no doubt you already know my name, Agent Lancaster.” His eyes moved down her body in a not so innocent way. God that pant suit was wretched. “And any minutes you want with me would be very long and talented minutes.” He was being needlessly playful and, probably, exceedingly annoying. But such was his way. “Shall we away to my office where we can,” his licked his lower lip suggestively, “get down to business?” Though being teasing, he had ever intention of helping her with the investigation. The reputation of his bar rested on her findings. If his bar was deemed unsafe for women, bye bye business.

He waited for Katrina to gather her belongings before he showed her the way to his office. Along the way, he motioned to Pam who met him by the door of his office. He leaned into Pam and whispered softly so only she could hear, “Get the steak dinner. The really good one. With all the bells and whistles.” He winked at Pam and patted her shoulder. She was the closest thing he had to a real friend in this town. She protected him the best she could. She had never been his lover or even a flirtation for him. They just understood each other. And he gave her a great paying job that allowed her to take care of her two kids with little financial burden. Pam stepped away as she lifted her cell phone to her ear and started talking. Gandrell cocked his head to side, indicating that Katrina should continue to follow him as he led her to the door of his office. He opened the door and allowed her to enter first.

His office was impeccably organized and clean. He seemed to have a place for everything and everything was in its place. He wasn’t OCD or anal retentive when it came to cleanliness, he just had a system and the system worked. At the end of the night, once the bar was closed and everyone was wrapping up to leave, that was when he would go to work inputting all the data of the night into the computer system so, when Pam came in the next day, all she would have to do it print out the inventory sheets and she would know exactly what needed to be ordered and when. It was a flawless system, and it made their lives run smoothly. “Welcome to my lair,” he said in a mock Dracula voice as he moved past her into the room. He stopped and stood right next to her, “Do you get my big boy chair or will you allow me to have the honors?”

After the first two words from his mouth, Katrina realized what he was doing. He thought he was so cute, but it didn’t serve to shift her expression an inch. She scanned him too, but unlike him, she was watching for tells, cues, anything that gave away his personality. Her eyes met his again when he spoke. He was right, of course, that she already had his name. She had found it while digging into the building, but she just didn’t think that a name like his would be attached to an Angel-face. She would have to be better prepared in the future. Her eyes were hard as she watched him scan her, though very suggestively. She had been looked at like that before, and she didn’t usually give it any thought. It was part of being a woman, and unfortunately for her, it was part of the job too. For right now, that’s all it was.

Instead of reacting in any way, she only watched and almost with a hint of sass said; “Well then, I hope your talent is talking, because I have a whole lot of questions.” He was being cheeky, and excessively annoying, but at the same time, after months of being away from suspects, she almost appreciated it from him. Those sharp eyes watched the way his tongue moved across his lower lip, and she found herself committing the movement to memory, in ways she wasn’t yet convinced were completely professional. ”Lead the way.”

Katrina gathered her things, and then moved swiftly to follow him. While they walked, her eyes never stopped moving around the building, scanning every angle, every person, every movement. All of it was committed to her sharp memory, and would be stored for potential future use. Katrina also watched Gandrell, the way he moved, the way he spoke secretly to Pam. She was curious, but she would wait to find out. For now, she only let her mind formulate as she followed him into a meticulously clean office. From the moment she stepped in, she saw impeccable cleanliness, organization, but what she didn’t see was the obvious signs of extreme OCD. That was the first thing that made her curious, because that didn’t match so far, but she also knew this was only the first clue.

Her eyes tracked slowly around the room, taking note of any pictures, wall art, anything on the shelves. It was curious to her that there wasn’t any of the signs that she had been expecting to see, but she did not let herself get caught up in the assumptions. In the middle of her looking around his office, she heard his voice again, and that gaze turned to him. She felt the corner of her mouth start to twitch at his words, but her eyes for a moment softened as she rested one of her hands on her hip, and in her most official tone asked; “Well, that depends.Does the big boy chair come with a sippy cup too?”

She played back! He loved it! Above all things he appreciated wit and a sharp tongue. Anyone who could keep up with him was well worth his time. Without missing a beat he cocked his head towards her, "I graduated from sippy cups a few months ago. Now we use the cups with the built-in straws." He laughed as he moved around to his desk chair. He waved his hand respectfully at either of the two chairs before his desk. Once she sat, he sat. Instinctually, his hand rested on the mouse and shook it a little. His computer fired up as the dual screens came to life. Before he realized what he was doing his phone began ringing. He glanced over at the agent, "One sec," he said as he answered the phone.

In a semi-pleasant voice he said, "New Orleans Vampire." He nodded his head as he listened. The voice was a male's and it seemed to be making excuses. "Listen," Gandrell interrupted the male. "My order got left off the truck. That's what you're saying, right?" The male's muffled voice. "Can you guarantee me that my order will be on tomorrow's truck and it will be delivered by 3pm?" The male's voice again, sounding almost relieved. "Then we have no problem, my friend. We'll see you tomorrow." The male's voice talking fast as Gandrell nodded, just waiting for the call to be over. "All good, my friend. Yeah... Yeah... Okay... Tomorrow." Finally, Gandrell hung up and said softly, "That guy is neurotic." He tossed the phone onto his desk and looked at Agent Lancaster.

"I apologize about that," he said as he leaned back in the chair. "Where would you like to begin?" He thought about throwing in an inappropriate suggestion on where they could begin: Her stripteasing from the chair something smart ass like that. He thought better of it though. He studied her face and waited for the questioning to begin.

Katrina just watched him after her question, trying to gauge out what type of personality he may be. She saw a lot of tells he may not even be aware he had, but what surprised her the most was her own reaction to him. At the end of his response, despite herself, she laughed. The sound was rich but genuine, and although short, it served to lift the Agent’s spirit just a little bit. Feeling a little playful, which wasn’t always a bad thing when questioning a potential suspect, she continued the banter. “It better have those cool swirly straws, or no deal.”

Katrina chose to sit in the other chair, mostly so she could watch what he did. Her eyes went immediately to the screens, but rested back on his quickly. Before she even got a chance to open her mouth, his phone was ringing. She could have said ‘no’, or stopped it in some other way, but since she was going to go through that phone later tonight, she decided to let him answer it. Plus, she thought, this was still a business.

She would wait patiently while he was on the phone, noting the extreme calm when dealing with a potential huge mess, and being rather intrigued by it. She mentally made a note of it, but said nothing at that very minute. It wasn’t a long phone call, granted, but it still gave Katrina a little insight into him. At the end of it, she shook her head. “No bother.” She replied, as she reached in her coat and pulled out the warrant. “First, I’d like to formally inform you that your business is under federal investigation, in connection with two dead women, and a third still missing. This is a search warrant, and although I’m sure you’ve been informed, all video and audio has been requested from your cameras.”

As he had not yet been arrested, she did not yet read him his rights, but instead pulled out the photos of the three women, laying them side by side infront of him, and asked her first question. “Now, do you know any of these women?”

Or at least, she attempted to ask, only to be interrupted once more.

Gandrell took the offered search warrant and examined it. He carried it across his small office and made a copy of the warrant for his records. He took the original off the copy machine and moved back to the desk to hand the paper back to Agent Lancaster. He then opened a drawer and pulled out a folder and placed the warrant in the folder. He then placed the folder to the right of his computer for a more thorough review. As he placed the folder to the side he said calmly, "My head of security, Randell, will be able to assist you with the footage. He is the gentleman by the entrance."

He was about to lean back when out came the photographs. Gandrell leaned forward and gave each of the pictures a scan. "I know all three of them." Gandrell leaned back in the chair. "Socially, mind you, not privately." He watched the agent knowing she was drawing conclusions. "This is a small town, Agent Lancaster, and I am very active in this small town. So, naturally, I am going to meet people who live in this town." His phone started ringing then. He picked it up and looked at the number. As he answered the call he added, "It does not mean we were anything more than passing acquaintances." Talking into the phone, "Hey Liz. Thank you so much for getting those contracts over to me." He listened, nodding his head. "I have not signed the contract just yet. I was reviewing the set up fee... It's twice the cost of last year's. Were there any problems last year?" He listened to her explanation. The sound of a no nonsense southern woman could be heard. "Would you be open to a counter proposal?" Gandrell laughed gently, "A dinner can always be arranged, Liz, but it's not ethical to take money away from your employees for a dinner." It was clear she didn't like his response. Knowing he had upset her he said calmly but professionally, "With rising inflation and gas prices I completely understand why the set up fee is higher. I will sign those contracts and have them to you tomorrow."

He hung up and set his phone down. "I apologize. She is impossible to get a hold of. If didn't take her call she would have ignored me for a week on principle." He typed in a password on his computer and opened his email, "Where were we?" He asked half distracted as he Docu Signed the contract and sent it back to Liz.

Katrina was well aware of who the head of security was, but she nodded in acknowledgment of the words nonetheless. She’d had them start that before, so she could take it with her when she left, but she did have a legal obligation to inform him of what was happening. The organized part of her could appreciate that he made a copy of it, but the twinge started when she realized she was likely going to have to deal with a pain-in-the-ass lawyer before this was over. That was fine, she reasoned, as about 85% of her suspects wound up with one. She just fucking hated them.

She watched his reaction as much as listened to his words when he answered her question. He made sure to inform her that he didn’t know them personally…seconds before taking what seemed to be an incredibly personal phone call. Her eyebrows rose in that near amusement as she listened to a dinner be offered, but it was mostly still covered by what would appear to be something near anger. In reality, she listened and noted every word she heard in these phone calls, and started making mental notes to check out every one of the people making the calls.

That aside though, she did have a job to do, so although she could logically her way by ways of telling herself that this was a business, so of course the phone would ring, she still was slightly irked at the phone constantly ringing. When he put the phone down, and turned to his computer, which would signal to her that he wasn’t paying full attention to her, that irked her and put him more on her radar all in the same breath. When he asked where they were, her eyes travelled away from the screens she found herself looking at out of curiosity. “You were telling me about these women, and that you have no personal relationships with the women in these photos. And then getting a dinner date.”