|
 |
A sleek black car draws up outside Alias Investigations. It's not the kind of car one usually sees in this neighborhood — at least not for long, because it'll be stripped for parts in minutes if left unattended. The driver opens the back passenger door to let the occupant out, then returns to his place. Something about him suggests ex-military, so the vultures are not in a hurry to sweep in.
The passenger finds his way upstairs, knocks on the door of Alias Investigations. This is, apparently, where he is supposed to be. He is unimpressed.
The man, a lawyer, is very tall and cadaverous, with sleek silver hair and brooding grey eyes. He wears a long black cashmere coat and black leather gloves. Everything about him suggests that he should be somewhere else — most people would like him to be somewhere else. He is inherently discomforting.
*
The knock has Jessica standing from behind the desk and trailing to the door. She didn't have a drink yet this morning, thanks to Remy's urging. The notion that she's spiralling out of control was enough to push her back to some semblance of sobriety. At least for the time being.
The door is unlocked, but the black-clad woman opens it to spy her newfound company anyways. Her eyes narrow as she inspects the man, and her arms cross over her chest. "Hello." There's nothing hesitant about the greeting.
Her head cants to the side and she openly stares at him. Her eyebrows lift and her arms cross over her chest, "Are you lost?"
*
"Miss Jones?" The man's voice is lovely, made for a courtroom. It fills the little office with its warmth. Nothing like the speaker at all. "I have been instructed to secure your services for my clients. May I come in?"
*
Jessica looks down the hall and then opens the door and steps back into the living room/office. She trails to her seat at her desk and motions to the single chair opposite her own. "We can chat, and I can let you know if I'm available. To be honest," she looks towards the window, "it's been incredibly busy lately. Apparently a lot of cheating spouses take opportunities like the Hellmouth to engage in their affairs." She can feel a smirk pull at her lips. "But, if the case is interesting, maybe." She shrugs.
*
"I am John Richards, Miss Jones." He does not sit. "I represent the Deans, Frank and Leslie, of Los Angeles, California. The Deans are searching for their missing daughter, Karolina, and have reason to believe that she is in New York City at the moment. They would like you to help find her." He removes a yellow envelope from inside his coat. It is not thin. "Your retainer," he says. "Should you agree."
*
Jessica's gaze flits up to the man as she slides the envelope towards her. She lifts the flap and peeks inside, and her expression turns stern as she returns her gaze to the lawyer. Her jaw tightens. "When did she go missing?" her eyebrows lift. "And how on the hell," evidently even clients get exposed to her colourful side, "did they hear about me?"
*
"This summer. August," Richards says evenly. "They did not hear about you. I did. It is my job to be aware of all resources that may be useful to my clients. It is thought that Karolina was spotted here in Hell's Kitchen. She has also been seen, we believe, near Central Park. Alive and well. We believe she may be living among the homeless, possibly even consorting with mutants. Obviously, someone like myself is less likely to find them forthcoming. The money is no object. There is a substantial reward for her return, in addition to your fees."
*
With a small cluck of her tongue, Jessica crosses her arms over her chest. It's a defiant move, and certainly one intended to disconnect her a little from this man. "Who saw her and what kind of information have you already gleaned? If," and it's a weighty if the way Jessica says the word, "I'm taking the case, I'll need all of the files and information you already have." Her eyebrows lift at the notion of consorting with mutants, "Also, from the Deans' perspective, why did she go missing?"
*
"The files are in the car, they are yours once you take the case. That includes the intial police investication. Initially, it was believed that Karolina had been abducted from a bus stop on her way to work at a summer camp, as has been her habit for several years. Before that, she was a camper there." Now, Richards does sit, hands folded in his lap. "Some of the people who attend are…troubled." He says the word heavily. "Karolina might have drawn the wrong attention."
"My clients' daughter has not had the benefit of a practical education like some of us," he says seriously. "She is vulnerable. Impressionable. And a very beautiful child. When no ransom demand came, my clients became increasingly confused. They refused to give up the search in spite of being informed that the likelihood of Karolina being found alive was vanishingly small. Now, my clients fear that she has been drawn into some kind of cult or has been trafficked for ill purposes. She is the kind of child who, even if she were to escape, might be too ashamed to go home. She is very sensitive."
*
Thoughtfully, Jessica sucks on the inside of her cheek. The information seems to suggest the case is one she should take. Her chin drops and her lips press together. "Alright. I will take the case. I'm going to need a photo, all of the files, and any other information you have about her, including journals," her eyes turn upwards, "letters, a photo of her room, and any personal effects that can be gleaned from that space. I'm willing to travel out there to LA if it's easier, but would rather keep my operations here. Knowing Miss Dean will make it easier to get into her head and find her."
Jessica pinches the bridge of her nose, "Also know that, assuming she's an adult, I can't make her do anything. So while I can locate her, she may still choose not to go home."
*
"Her parents would be happy just to see her. If you would help facilitate a meeting?" Richards pulls a photograph out of another pocket and passes it over. "This is Karolina. I will go to retrieve the files for you. Everything you've asked for is in there." The girl in the photograph looks like she's made of sunshine and laughter. She is beautiful and something about her face, the openness of her laugh, suggests that she would be easy prey for someone. It's impossible to believe that anyone Jessica knows was ever that young even though the notation on the bottom of the photograph records her age as eighteen in that picture. "If you'll prepare whatever paperwork you use?" Richards rises to his full height and gives Jessica a little nod. "I will be right back."
*
"I'll see what I can do." Pause. "If I can even find her. If she's in the company of mutants, I'm not sure how much luck you think I can have." Of course, she managed to find the elusive Remy Le Beau. She's done some very incredible feats.
Jessica taps her fingers knowingly on the photograph as the lawyer retreats. She stares at the photo and her jaw tightens, "Now the question remains: why did you leave int he first place? A charmed life with your parents or a not-so-charmed one…" a glance is given to the only personal effect on her desk: a picture of her and Trish. "Celebrity parents aren't always what they're cracked up to be."