#scrpchat

He wasn’t on official business this time of night, though his cellphone was always on in case something went wrong with his employees, and even though he did have a small hand in the running of this particular business he didn’t feel the need to announce that to anybody. There were a lot of businesses, big and small, that the Ducaine’s had their helping hands in. It was less so for the betterment of the community and mostly so he could keep an eye on the deals that went down under his nose. Any of his dealers could be found roaming the current scene at this time of night and even though he didn’t know all of them by name, he made sure to know them by their faces, so in case of trouble, he would know which nose to break.

Somebody sat down next to him, trying to get the attention of the bartender and Malcolm whistle, using a hand to gesture over the server. “Whatever my friend is getting here. It’s on me.” He said, giving a nod to the person next to him.

A heavy sigh escaped the woman’s lips as she paced back and forth in front of the quiet building. It was the middle of the night and Andie had been chained to her desk since the early afternoon, working and mulling over everything she knew so far about the body that had washed up on the shore. There wasn’t much to go on but that didn’t stop her from racking her brain until there was nothing left except mush sloshing around in her head.

For the third time that night the woman had stepped outside to grab a smoke break, something she didn’t do that often but figured drinking on the job wouldn’t exactly be the smartest choice. As she let the lit cigarette dangle between her nimble fingers, she listened to the sound of her shoes hitting the pavement in slow, rhythmic motions. She took another drag as her eyes flicked upwards, coming across the figure of another person walking past her place of work. She gave them a nod and put her head back down, expecting no conversation to come of the acknowledgment.

Stella flinched as a hand nestled into the small of her back, though she gripped the bar top a little bit tighter. A rapid reaction had caused a few broken noses, though Stella generally tried not to leave trauma in her wake. She aimed to leave things in better condition than when she found them, and a new nose job had only delighted one recipient. Two taps on her right elbow was the preferred method to get and settle her attention. She snapped to a more rigid position before turning to face the other. “You don’t need to touch someone there when walking past. It’s tight, but neither of us are that big.” It was a tight squeeze, but one could make do. “If you wanted my attention, it’s not that hard to say hello. I’ll start,” she held out a hand, “I’m Stella, and you are?”

“Did you just look at me? Don’t look at me if it’s supposed to be a candid,” Samantha looked up from the phone in her hand. She eyed the subject and made a move to reframe the shot. If she was going to bother to do something, she might as well do it right. Sam had an eye for detail, but this was out of her usual scope. “Turn a bit to the left -- too far,” she corrected and snapped one more. The device was returned to its rightful owner. She lingered for approval or a do-over, pulling down a pair of sunglasses perched atop her head in the meantime. 

Bennett swung his briefcase against his side gently as he moved down the flight of stairs that had previously carried him up to his office. He needed to step in for only a moment to grab some paperwork he had left on his desk the day before, not thinking he would have needed it, even though it turned out he did. It was two seconds of his life that he figured he didn’t need to take through the hassle of going through the parkade underneath his work building.

He nodded at the security guard as she let him through and his feet carried him quickly through the lobby and into the warm streets of sunny Santa Cielo. His car was parked only a few minutes away and given that he was still driving the car he had used to pick up his date on Valentine’s Day, it wasn’t hard to miss it amongst the mishmash of other cars. Though as he moved over to his car, a vintage Shelby Cobra in a striking red color, he noticed someone looking a little too intently at it.

“Hey, you lost or something?” He asked as he approached, eyeing the person who was eyeing his vehicle.

“What’s your poison?”