Liam
Liam lands on what little space there is open on the top of the building and studies the coastline across the bay. Nothing for him to see tonight. But if all the information they have gathered is correct, that should change in the days to come.
This would be a perfect place to position the equipment, they need that little pier under surveillance the whole time, they need footage. This rooftop provides an unobstructed view and the perfect hiding spot. Unfortunately, one look around is enough to show that whoever is responsible for this place must be here often.
A bloody garden!?
The whole of the space is taken. Everything is well kept and neat, and all the pot plants obviously need regular care. There is no way he can just set up the equipment here and go unnoticed. But there isn't really another vantage point from this side of the bay that will do... This means he will have to come back tomorrow, during the day, and organize something with whoever owns this building. His cameras need to be left undisturbed up here for the days to come.
Hopefully it will be a young woman... A smile, and a little flirting, should be enough to grant him free access to the place. If it's a man, he may have to resort to actual negotiations...
A hiss from behind him has Liam rolling his eyes.
Oh, of course there is a cat.
Humans and their obsession with cats... Smiling maliciously, he unfurls his wings partially, giving them a quick flap in the animal's direction, causing it to screech and dash away. His smile turns into a clenched teeth grimace though as, in his haste to disappear, the cat hits a little flower pot on top of a picnic table, making it crash noisily to the floor.
Fuck!
Standing completely still, focussing extra energy on his concealment, Liam trains his ears onto his surroundings. There is no noise from downstairs. The place is either not occupied or the cat's clumsiness wasn't enough to disturb whoever sleeps down there.
The little pot is really broken beyond repair, the pale pink violets it held spread on the floor.
Time to go.
He will come back tomorrow to find out who needs to be persuaded. The 'tourist in search of some nice pictures' story should work well in this situation.
As he turns to jump, a scent in the air catches his nose, making Liam stop dead in his tracks. It's absurd! His whole body has gone into alert. Not for a threat, no... at the merest hint of this delicious smell, other instincts have been brought roaring to the surface. His blood suddenly feels like it's running thick in his veins.
What on earth?!
The sound of a window being closed downstairs has Liam paralyzed again.
"Seven hells!"
Soft footed, whoever it is.
Could this person be the source of the scent?
Following the quickly fading trace of the wonderful scent, Liam makes his way to the edge of the building, where the sound came from. He extends his will, trying to 'hear' the person bellow him, but gets nothing. His mind finds just blank where the other mind should be, it must be a man. But... with that scent?
Trusting on the late hour and on his power of concealment to protect him from any neighbor's scrutiny, he grabs hold of the siding of the building and eases himself down, until he can look through a window. There is movement inside. Liam has time to register long legs, a slim body and a mass of long, dark brown hair, before the cat starts hissing at him again, from the roof of the house next door.
Unwilling to test his abilities in such close quarters for too long, he raises himself out of view, before the stupid animal causes any more of a racket.
Making his way back to the open area in the garden, Liam climbs onto the - now empty - picnic table and jumps, opening his wings fully. Taking off towards the clearing in the woods, where he parked his car.
That is beyond strange! Why couldn't he read the woman's mind?
The body he saw definitely belongs to a young woman, therefore, her mind should have been open to him. Yet, he got nothing! And that scent...
Access to the building is necessary for very important reasons. He will have to decipher this mystery as quickly as possible, while also guaranteeing free access to the rooftop. Hopefully, whatever it is that is keeping this woman's thoughts from him, won't hinder his ability to influence her. Liam has never met a woman whose mind was closed to him before...
The car is just where he left it. After doing a second circle around the area, to make sure there is no one around, Liam lands on the clearing and changes back to human form.
Fishing his cell phone out of the front pocket of his cargo pants, he turns it back on. There is a text from Gareth:
"Tristan is here. Bodies found on the beach definitely fit our case. Nick's room for the night."
Bastards! This has gone far enough.
Slamming his car door, as if it was responsible for this mess, Liam drives to the hotel to meet with his newly arrived brother and debrief.
Lorena
"Mmm... what do we have here ?!"
Amanda is my friend and assistant, she works the front of the store, greeting and helping customers, while I sit at the back working on my jewelry pieces or the computer. When we are alone she usually has a great time running a lively - and not always flattering - description of the touristy types that go by. Knowing what to expect when she starts like this, I barely register the excitement in her voice.
As we are located in a peaceful little town, known for romantic views and quiet nature walks, most of her comedic material consists of couples on honeymoon and families on a day trip. I am surprised then to hear her say "Lorena, have a look! I have never seen so many good looking men getting out of a car at the same time! Not even in Oceans Eleven..." after a pause, she continues "... maybe a little creepy though... It's like 'Men in Black' in jeans has come to town... and what's with the hair?"
I understand what she means when I look up and see, through our big display window, the five men who just got out of the car parked in front of the store. Dressed casually but expensive looking, they are all tall, athletic, and are all wearing sunglasses; even though, this being February in Washington State, the day is not that bright.
Do they all have long hair?
The car is a big, black, luxurious looking thing, that somehow matches them perfectly. They look so out of place!
More like the biker gang division of the Chippendales out for a stroll.
I smile to myself, and go back to work.
A few moments later, the little door-bell chimes and I look up again, to see one of the Chippendale-Men walk in. He is alone now, sunglasses hanging from the neck of his t-shirt.
The first thing I notice is how tall he really is, must be well past six feet. Dressed in what looks to be designer distressed jeans and a long sleeved t-shirt, he exudes an aura of power. There is something of a dangerous edge to him... in a bad-boy-to-the-bone kind of way. That edge only adds to his movie star gorgeous looks though. Very nice...
Amanda greets him and they talk for a little while. She seems to be holding on to the edge of the counter for dear life! I can't quite hear their conversation from my work table, but deduce he is looking for a gift when I see her pointing him towards our beautiful set of handmade soaps and bath salts.
Oh well... probably for his equally movie-star-gorgeous girlfriend or wife...
The ridiculous pang of disappointment this thought brings, makes me laugh quietly to myself.
I try to focus on my work, wrapping and twisting some delicate silver wire around, to form a lacy pattern, but can't seem to stop watching him. He looks very menacing among all the delicate, feminine stuff that fills my shelves.
When, unexpectedly, Amanda turns to the back of the store and gestures in my direction, he looks directly at me. Caught red handed, watching, I can feel the blush on my face and put my head down, trying to be invisible, feeling absolutely embarrassed. They talk for a little longer and he leaves, carrying his elaborately wrapped, and probably expensive, package. Those soaps are truly handmade and we charge accordingly.
Amanda barely waits for the door to close behind him, before she is rushing to my side.
"Oh my goodness... that man was gorgeous!" she says fanning herself with one of our magazines "He wanted to know if the upstairs are occupied and where he could find the person with access to the roof. I told him that was you, then I sort of went on and on, about how you own the building, the store and live upstairs... I don't know what came over me, I could not stop talking! I hope it's OK I told him?" She pauses for a beat, a little frown of confusion marks her face "I just got carried away I guess... did you see those eyes?" Shaking the frown, she puts one of her hands to her heart and fans herself a bit more, comically "...but Lorena, now that I think about it I'm a bit worried... you will be here all alone later... Seriously, you really need to get an alarm system set up, you know... What if he is a creep? Although, a good looking creep like that, I wouldn't mind a visit myself... see?! If I hadn't been so distracted I would have given him my address instead!"
"Amanda slow down!" we are both giggling by this point "Why did he want to know about upstairs?"
"I don't know. He only said he was here for some convention or something, and that the soaps were a gift for his mom..."
"Hmm... Probably just making small talk, or a clumsy attempt at chatting you up."
"Ha! Like that kind of man needs to chat anyone up, Lorena! He probably has the girls dropping their panties just like that" snapping her fingers "before he even says anything... I know I almost did..." she says with an exaggerated sigh.
We laugh. I don't think I have ever seen Amanda this flustered because of a man!
Very pretty, in a 'blond, blue-eyed all American girl' kind of way, she is the quintessential guy magnet, always capable of getting some poor lonely soul – or horny college kid – to pay for our drinks when we go for a girls night out. Usually, the guys are the ones left sighing in her wake. We both know she is all talk though, as her high-school sweetheart romance with Luke has its ups and downs, but is still going strong.
