The Furtive Glance Part 4

This is part four of the Furtive Glance for part one click here and part two click here and part three here
             
         She followed me to the bar and let me order the drinks. It was a dimly-lit dive, filled with the last stragglers of the night. I suggested we take the drinks to a booth away from the great unwashed, she nodded feeling like she didn’t belong here. I dunno why but she sat the same side as me. She was too close for my liking. I could smell her scent, and feel her breath on my face, I didn’t know if that was good or bad but it felt uncomfortable. Her eyes were as clear as earlier in the evening, inviting me in with their emerald charms, but her face looked older, tireder somehow, maybe it was the lighting in this joint, or maybe it was the strain beginning to show.
‘Why did you go to see him?’ She asked, if her eyes were inviting, her tone wasn't. She stared at me, waiting for an answer.
       I let silence do some talking for a moment, letting her stew in her own anger. I took a swig of my drink, maintaining eye-contact.
      ‘Listen lady,’ I said indignantly, ‘don't tell me how to do my job, either trust me or take the money back.’ 

I was hoping this could be my escape clause, but she didn’t bite. She just looked down at her drink. She was so close, I could smell her hair, it smelt of lavender. She looked back at me, tears in her eyes, but that was an old trick, she didn’t fool me for a second.
      ‘There's no mystery here lady,’ I said, voicing the thoughts I'd had earlier in the evening. ‘You know he's got the kid, I can follow him to find out where, but you probably know that already, and anyway then what?’ 

It was her turn to let the silence linger, leave the question unanswered.
       ‘I’ve paid you to find him Archer Stanley, Don't ask me why.’ She spat the words at me.  ‘Either do it or give me the money back.’ 
She was putting on a good show, she flip-flopped between helpless dame and Iron Lady with ease.

‘You got 24 hours' she said.
That was the second time I’d heard that tonight, I thought to myself.
        ‘Show me you really are as good as you say you are.’ She continued. ‘Or maybe you're all talk.’
I didn't know if wanted to slap her or kiss her. But of course I’d never slap a broad and I’d never kiss a client, but that never stopped me wanting to.

         We sat in silence for a moment before she got up to leave, the tears back in her eyes. ‘Just find him Mr. Stanley, just find him.’ she said and this time I thought the tears just might be genuine. She walked from the bar, leaving me alone with my thoughts, the eyes of the stragglers watching as she left. I decided it was time for just one more, what harm could one last drink do? A drink would help me think and right now I needed to think.

for part 5 click here