All italic sentences are the actual dialog from the show!

Episode 2 - The Freelancer - No. 145

Set during the cab ride when Red and Lizzie make their way to the restaurant.

Red glanced over at the beautiful young woman next to him who was currently staring out the window on her side of the cab. Red gave his watch a quick look.

Six minutes.

They had left the hotel six minutes ago and she still had not spoken to him. Time to change that he thought. It wasn't that he was uneasy with the silence but he figured this would be a good time to speak with her privately, without all the ears hanging onto their every word.

"Lizzie, I thought this little drive might be a good time to get better acquainted," Red said staring at her intently. "We've had very little alone time since we met."

Lizzie stayed silent as she continued to look out the window.

Red continued on as if she wasn't ignoring him. "What with Donald sticking his nose into every little conversation and Harold not wanting to speak about anything else but business. They lead such sad lives. I mean who wants to spend their entire lives focusing on nothing but business? That tends to age a person quite quickly. Or so I've heard."

Other than licking her lips, Lizzie stayed silent.

"Take me for example. Now one such as I, whom is in the line of work I do, would in most cases look tired, haggard, beat down. But look at me! I have spent my life working, no doubt, but I've also always made sure I took time to relax. Stress kills Lizzie," Red said, never talking his eyes off of her.

Lizzie sighed but still said nothing.

Red grinned. He could tell he was wearing her down. One thing Lizzie did not have was a good poker face.

"I mean sure! I've got a few wrinkles here and there and my hair is a bit thinner up top than it use to be and I'm not..I guess you could say svelte...as I was in my younger days but I feel great! I do acupuncture regularly, I swear by those hot stone massages, and I drink these horrible shakes that a friend recommended. You know the kind. Packed full of vitamins and minerals. Helps clean out your system. Get rid of all the junk that gets built up in a persons system. I've been wanting to try….."

"Do you ever stop talking!?" Lizzie shouted suddenly as she whipped her head around.

Red smiled widely as he watched her give him a death stare.

"Just making conversation Lizzie. What would you like to talk about?"

"Nothing. I don't want to talk with you about anything."

Red raised an eyebrow and said, "You sure? I would imagine there would be all kinds of things you would like to talk about with me."

"Like what?" Lizzie snapped.

"Well, not just a few hours ago you spoke about some things you found in your home."

"I told you. As far as I'm concerned you, or rather someone you hired, broke into my house and put that box there hoping I would find it," Lizzie said firmly as she turned to continue to look out the window.

"And where exactly did you find this box? You've never said."

Lizzie sat silent as she turned her head to look at the man next to her. "Under the floor in my dining room. The wood of the floors had been cut to out to store the box underneath."

Red nodded. "And how did you come across this?"

"I was taking up the carpet. Tom's blood was all over it from where Zamani stabbed him."

"I see."

"My husband is a teacher. He is innocent," Lizzie said firmly. "I don't want to talk about this with you anymore."

"What would you like to talk about?"

"Nothing. I told you I don't want to talk to you about anything other than this case. I have to work with you, not become friends with you," Lizzie said.

"What friends? We are in the backseat of a cab," Red said with a laugh.

"Not for long," Lizzie said with relief in her voice. "We're here."

Red looked up to see that the car was in fact coming to a stop outside of the little french restaurant. He frowned slightly. He had hoped the cab ride would have taken longer. It would have had Dembe been behind the wheel he thought. He was just starting to enjoy himself!

"Before we do this, let me be clear. I'm not here to socialize. I have no interest in having dinner with you nor do we have the time. We meet your contact, we get the name of The Freelancers next victim, and we go. Understood?"

The End!

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