Descent - 3/16
The bar was suitably crowded, almost too crowded, and it was several minutes before she identified two seats. Bagging one with her coat and planting a knee firmly on the other, she craned to find Angel, and saw he'd just found a table on the other side of the room. After a bit of competitive gesturing, she abandoned her prizes and went to join him.
The table was close to a window.
"Are you sure this will be OK?"
"Fine... it's dusk. I'm happy sitting anywhere, it's just..."
"I know, I know, you just don't do lunch."
"It's the daylight thing."
"I didn't think." She smiled at him. "Sorry. Anyway, it's just as well we put it off. I've found out a bit more about our friend since lunchtime. I can kill two birds with one stone."
Angel raised his eyebrows, "Two birds?"
"His name is Eddie Brown. He's South African, wealthy family, here on an extended vacation."
"Just travelling?"
"No, he's a genealogy enthusiast. He's here to find his roots."
He sighed, "Doesn't explain why he wanted to speak to me."
"You don't recognise the name?"
"No."
Kate sat back in her chair and pursed her lips in thought, "What about the family history thing. Is that the kind of work you do?"
He shrugged, "Ask Cordelia. We haven't done any in the past, for sure."
"That might not be significant. He might have found you on the Web. Or in Yellow Pages."
Angel looked blank. "I don't think we're in.
"Well, how do people usually find you?"
"Word of mouth..."
"Right..."
"Plus we have a psychic link to higher powers."
Kate smiled, "That must be so handy. Better than a thousand small ads."
"Hey, you have those police databanks. We're even."
Nervous, she looked down at the drink in front of her. She didn't remember ordering it. This was the perfect opening. Kate took a deep breath. "Actually, Angel... that was the other thing..."
He carried on, "If you were tracing your family tree, why would you want a private investigator anyway? Isn't the fun thing to do it all yourself?"
She gave up. "You'd think so. But then that leaves us back at square one. We don't have a connection."
"Maybe he wasn't even coming to see me. I mean, a card in a wallet; it's pretty thin."
"True. Or he was coming to see you about something else."
There was a pause. Previously unnoticed, the bar's background noise flooded into the gap, until his voice broke the silence, tentative, soft and caring.
"You look different."
Kate's head jerked up and she found him watching her. Something about the timbre of his voice, something she hadn't heard since that day he came into her apartment uninvited, made it harder for her to breathe, as if her body were still there, fighting for air. From nowhere, arousal flooded through her like a shot of tequila. She swallowed, and tried to make light of an answer. "I do? How?"
"I don't know. Wary. Unsettled. What made you decide to come back?"
She shrugged, and allowed her eyes to fall away from his. "I needed to fight back. This is where the demons are."
"Demons are everywhere, Kate."
"Not those kind of demons."
"Oh..." He picked up a napkin and started to tear it to shreds. "Then, am I one of the things you have to fight?"
She gulped. "Maybe."
"Because, I was hoping, if we're going to be in the same town again, things could be different, we could be..."
"Different?"
...helpful to each other."
Fear iced its way up her spine. She fought it down fiercely. (Fear of what, for heaven's sake? Do you think he's going to bite you in the middle of a bar, in happy hour?) She stammered, "Aren't I being helpful right now?"
His mouth dropped open. "Yeah. I guess. As helpful as you can be given you're interviewing me in your capacity as investigating officer in a murder case where I'm a suspect."
"Oh... I see what you mean."
Another pause. He bit his lip and looked away, clearly angered.
"Actually Angel, that's not why I'm here." She chuckled. "You know, I've just been on a business course, for beginners. They told me my biggest problem was my manner in dealing with people. I didn't believe them so they did that thing where they record you having a conversation and play it back." She drew a pattern in the condensation on her glass. "I think the word they used was 'unfortunate'. I've spent too many years on the force I suppose. I sometimes say the right things but even when I do it sounds like I'm barking orders."
"Why *are* you here?"
"Not to interview you. I'm not the investigating officer. Christ, I wish..."
"I don't understand."
"I'm not a police officer at all."
"What?"
"Not any more. The door wasn't left open for me, Angel. In fact, the door was pretty firmly shut."
He shook his head as if to try and clear water from his ears. "Then, what..."
She stood and collected her bag and coat from the back of the chair. "I'm a PI. Like you."
Leaving him with his mouth hanging open, she skirted round the table, with the intention of leaving it at that, then thought of something and turned back. She fished a business card out of her pocket and put it on the table in front of him.
"There's just one difference between me and you." She waited until he turned to look at her, before lowering her voice to whisper, "I have a licence."
