Femme Fetale

Nine

"So, tell me how it's been so far," Hank says, sitting across from Grant and me. A camera sits on the corner of the table, pointed towards the two of us. It reminds me a little of the police interviews I see in the television shows.

"Well, we've both managed to break through into their circle of friends. Grant as my boyfriend, and me as Zane's future partner," I inform Hank, glancing warily at the camera. Grant fidgets slightly beside me.

"This is just standard procedure. Please, pretend it's not even here," the older man says, scribbling a few notes down. He nods slowly as he continues to write something. "This sounds promising. Anything else?"

"We've been invited to Florida for vacation," Grant tells, crossing his arms over his chest. I nod, glancing at the man beside me.

"Yes, where I'll meet Zane's other partner and finalize the paperwork," I tell Hank, looking back at him. He seems impressed by this.

"Well, things seem to be moving smoothly. You should know that we recently received some intel that Zane seems to be moving up from just sending money." Hank shuffles through a few pages in the folder in front of him. "It seems he's lending a helping hand to the neighborhood drug lord. I'd like some more intel on that, if it should come up. Keep your ears open, Adrianna. And Grant, what do you have for me?" He turns to Grant, not even waiting for me to respond to him.

Grant raises his eyebrows while shooting me a look. I shrug. "Well, I've tried hacking into the company computer, but it just can't be done remotely. And I'm not sure even doing it through a company data base or computer would change anything, it's way too secure. Someone must be helping him with all that security. He's definitely hiding something in there. I'll get to the bottom of it, I just need some time," He tells Hanks, leaning back in his chair and drumming his fingers on the table.

Hank takes a few notes and we sit there in a tense silence as I look around me. It's a small room, with security cameras in two of the corners. Glass door with blinds on it. No windows, so no two way mirrors. It reminds me a little of police interrogation rooms. From the corner of my eye, I watch Grant fiddle with the rip in his black jeans. I wonder how long he'll refrain from talking to me. I quickly chide myself. Why should I care how long he doesn't speak to me? He'll have to eventually, considering communication is a huge part of this partnership.

"Okay, you two are good to go. I have enough for the first written report. The next meeting will be in two week's time, and the rest at a similar time period. That is unless my boss decides you two can have a little more autonomy," He says, not really looking at either of us. Though now I'm a little more curious about who this mysterious 'boss' is.

I get out of my seat slowly, glancing over at Grant as he gets up. He looks at me, grins cheekily, then continues on out the door. I hurry to catch up, not particularly liking the whole atmosphere of the place. I was more than eager to get my gun back too.

"This place gives me the creeps. And that's saying something," Grant mutters, watching a chocolate skinned woman walk past us, tablet in hand and speaking rapidly through an earpiece. Another man goes the same way as her, his dark eyes seeming to pierce through me. I nod, and step up my pace.

"I know right? That's coming from two people completely used to weird," I whisper back. We backtrack through the building, going through the large area filled with computers, all facing the same way towards a large screen that had multiple faces, all recording data at a live pace. I quickly look away as a man with a tablet narrows his eyes at me.

"Let's just get out of here," Grant says. I don't object and we hurry back down the hallways, and back to the checkpoint. The grey walls are a welcome relief, and so is the feel of the weight of my gun at the small of my back. Grant raises an eyebrow at me. "I had no idea you were carrying."