part 11

The elevator doors slid soundlessly open. The air here felt different, like stepping out of a steambath. Felt... cleaner. Unconsciously, I caressed the holster at the side of my leg, not knowing what to expect. Stepping out of the elevator, I wasn't surprised at seeing Bouchard standing there waiting for me. She reminded me of a Porsche - sleek, sexy and ultimately hazardous to your health, if you didn't know what you were doing.

"Why Mr. Garrett, what brings you here?"

"Social visit. Wanted ta see if you were staying here while you were in the Haven."

I couldn't let her know I was onto her scam. No telling what details I could miss out on if her guard was up. It was chilling how innocent she looked, but was capable of more malevolence than she let on.

"How very nice, Mr. Garrett. Would you care for a drink?"

"Bourbon, if you got it. No ice."

"Sounds very strong, Mr. Garrett. You sure about that?

"Just oiling the machine, Cass."

She disappeared behind the bar of the penthouse suite. Never realised how much opulence and extravagance this suite had. I made a mental note to sneak in more often, just to forget the stark contrast to the city. I sat down at the table. Carved out of mahogany, with a shimmering sheen to it. I let out a low whistle as I marvelled at the place.

Bouchard reappeared, carrying two glasses and a familiar, welcome sight - A big bottle of the good stuff. This was the kind of thing I treated myself to when I had cash. This stuff was the out-of-town stuff - It'd been a long time since I'd even seen a bottle of it, let alone buy one.

"You've got good taste." I said, managing to take my eyes off the bottle.

"Good taste? It's the only taste I know!" She laughed and set a glass in front of me. Through it, I noticed how warped and distorted everything seemed through it. It made me think about how easily manipulated anyone could be, given the right circumstance and material to do it with. I wasn't an exception at any rate. Bent over backwards like a Slinky for cash. It was downright embarassing, is what it was.

She poured some bourbon into first my glass, then hers. Clinking our glasses together, I gulped down my shot of bourbon and poured another. Bouchard sipped at hers delicately.

"So, Mr. Garrett, how is the case going?"

"It's... fine. Got a lead I'm working on right now."

"I'd love to hear about it, M-"

"Theo, please."

"Haha, Theo it is then. Enjoying your drink?"

I was beginning to feel drowsy. Her words were getting drowned out, began to boom. Soon, all I saw was black.