I know it's been probably years since I've updated (not really, but it feels like it). This story just kind of flew from my head and I haven't thought about it since. Well, the busy crisis time in my life has passed and I'm left sitting on the sofa feeling like fat pile of sludge. And now I've picked up the story again. I felt that I owed you guys, since I promised I'd still keep trying.
This chapter, um. Doesn't really have any purpose, except to turn my plot just a bit more. The next chapter will be more meaningful, I promise. (Oh dear, I seem to be making a lot of those, don't I?)
I hope you guys are satisfied with this for a little. The next chapter's gonna be a super long one, so I'm going to get straight on that one. :)
Thank you so much for staying with me all the way here. Support means everything!
Ryzea bit her lip, tugging on it gently – almost, nervously – with pristine, white teeth. An advantage to having copious amounts of time: you could always spend a few minutes on a dental procedure. The room was dead silent. She had one of the nice dresses from that gigantic closet, a blue silk wrap settled over her shoulders. She kept her legs crossed and her back straight, uncomfortable in the otherwise luxurious plush armchair. Raymond sat in the other, dressed –as always – in an immaculate navy blue suit.
Without even meaning to, she glanced down to where his hand rested on the arm of the chair, where their "wedding ring" hugged his left ring finger. The pretty little thing seemed to soften the roughness of his long fingers, make him seem warm.
She thought it looked out of place.
"We weren't certain of his identity until now, but it makes sense." Raymond was saying.
Henry Hamilton sat behind the large oak desk, hand supporting chin, with a grave expression on his face. They were in his office – his own personal office – while the so-called blue blood party continued downstairs without a clue about their discussion. The other Timekeepers on their team were absent, milling about downstairs to blend in perfectly with the crowd. Each with their own mission phone on hand in case an emergency came to light. The atmosphere in the room made her acutely aware of her own mission phone, tucked safely away in the white clutch lying in her lap.
"His name is Will Salas, son to Rachel and John Salas, 28-years old. He's listed as one of Phillipe Weis's accountants. No criminal record. Not even a single traffic ticket. However, he isn't listed in the New Greenwich directory. He's listed in Dayton's." Raymond spoke in a clipped tone, his jaw locking every few seconds or so – an indication that he was tense. "He's appeared in almost every crime scene and every house in which we've established security measures. It seems he's everywhere from nowhere."
"And you have no idea, not even a shred of a paper trail, to how he got to New Greenwich?" Mr. Hamilton glanced down at the papers of Will Salas's file before him. "You do realize what this means, don't you? You've brought me a name, but no connection. What am I supposed to do with this?"
Zea decided to cut in. "We were told to bring any advancement in the case to you, sir. It can't be a coincidence that he keeps appearing throughout our investigation. And it's definitely strange that he wound up in New Greenwich – with a job, too. We've yet to establish any sort of concrete evidence linking him to the murder. But we came to you with his file, because we're wondering how to approach him."
"We're undercover, sir. We can't exactly just bring him in for questioning." Raymond pointed out. "What do you suggest we do?"
The prominent business man turned a page in the case file, looking thoughtful. "Nothing."
"Nothing?" Ryzea repeated incredulously.
"But, sir – "
"I understand that this is the first lead we've had in months on this case." Mr. Hamilton cut her off. "But you're right. You have no authority in the parameters of this investigation to bring him in for questioning and without concrete evidence, my employer can't do anything about it either. You'll just have to sit tight, watch him. Keep looking for more leads, connections, evidence."
And that was the end of that.
Raymond was seething as they were tersely dismissed and escorted back into the throngs of the social gathering. Ryzea shifted uncomfortably in her dress. Mr. Hamilton's private office had been cool and quiet – a peaceful environment. The entrance lobby however was full of chitter-chatter, something she'd grown to hate in her months here in New Greenwich. She never got a moment's peace anymore.
"So… what now?" She asked quietly as Raymond pulled her into his side.
They stood on the fridges of the room, looking for all the world like a couple exchanging a few private words. His arm was warm on her waist and without thinking, she rested her head on his shoulder – he was the perfect height for that. But from this position, she could feel the tension and rigidness of his shoulders – a telltale sign of his stress and frustration. She was just as frustrated as he was. They'd found a lead, but they couldn't do anything about it and Mr. Hamilton wouldn't do anything about it. It sort of sucked working undercover.
"We do what Mr. Hamilton said." Raymond murmured, his eyes still trained on the crowd of social gatherers before them. "We watch and we wait."
"Wait for what?" She turned her cheek to look up at him, noticing once again how his jaw locked when he was angry.
"For a mistake."
His voice was chilly and distant, gaze cold and calculating.
"We wait for him to slip up. And then we'll get that son of a bitch."
Nodding in agreement, she turned to look back out on the floor. She studied their faces closely, watching how each of them were so unaware of the danger that lurked in the shadows of New Greenwich – the TimeKeepers by their side, staying with them, protecting them.
That's what they were.
They were protectors.
They were the Keepers of Time, the most precious thing in the world.
Raymond pressed a kiss to the top of her head, almost absentmindedly. It seemed he'd gotten use to the mechanisms of their covers. She, however, still had not. Every time something like that happened, she'd startle in surprise, earning a reprimanding look from her 'husband'. She really needed to get used to this fluffy, cuddly, marriage couple thing, otherwise she might blow their cover someday.
"Better get back to business." He squared his shoulders, his hand squeezing her shoulder lightly.
Ryzea wished he wouldn't do that. His touch was warm and made her confused. She didn't know which was which anymore. Was he pretending or was he not? She'd never, in her life, seen Raymond act so compassionate. Could someone like him even have a heart? Was it possible? She doubted it. So then he must be one hell of a good actor. She wondered idly why he didn't pursue the acting career industry. She thought he might do mighty fine in that one, instead of risking his life to save others.
Shaking away those abstract thoughts, she only just remembered to form her lips into a 'loving' smile (Constantine had made her practice that one. She still couldn't get it quite right) for her 'husband'.
I'm not very satisfied with this chapter. But next one's awesome. I promise! (There I go again!)
Don't forget to R&R!