3 Weeks Earlier
Looking over his shoulder at the angrily departing teen, the sound of the abandoned broom hitting the floor met his ears at almost the exact same moment the teen disappeared from his vision. Turning expectantly back to Tessa, the woman's tense posture made it clear that the teen's abrupt departure had absolutely nothing to do with Duncan's arrival.
When the woman gave no indication that she was going to produce an explanation voluntarily, the Immortal began his questioning. "What was that all about?"
"I have an appointment downtown this afternoon." The blonde told him flatly, making her way towards the back of the store.
The Immortal wasn't going to let it die that easily, though. His voice took on an unplanned tone of warning. "Tessa."
"Maybe he's in a bad mood." The woman replied with a defiant shrug, continuing towards the office, attempting escape.
Duncan, however, wasn't buying the poor excuse. "He was in a fine mood an hour ago. What happened, Tess?"
"It wasn't that big of a deal." The woman replied defiantly, gathering her purse from the desk.
The Immortal knew full well it was. "What wasn't?"
"I simply asked him to. Oh, for heaven's sake, what does it matter?" She interrupted herself.
Duncan was now more curious than ever. "What did you tell him to do, Tessa?"
"I asked, Duncan. I asked, I didn't order." She defended herself indignantly.
The Immortal rolled his eyes. "Fine. What did you ask him to do?"
"I simply asked him to let me handle an important client." The woman defensively announced.
Causing the man's heart to drop into his stomach. "Let you handle?"
"Mr. Kessler has no interest in Richie's chitchat, Duncan. He's too important of a client to have thinking…" The woman let the sentence go unfinished.
Duncan, however, had a very clear picture of what had happened. And it wasn't a pretty one. "Tessa, you didn't."
"I merely asked…" The woman began.
Her partner was not exactly feeling sympathetic, though. "You told him to stay away from the important customers?"
"I just suggested Mr. Kessler might feel more comfortable if Richie worked in the back for a bit." The woman explained.
Duncan was more than a little appalled. "Tessa!"
"Duncan, I didn't…where are you going?" The woman was thrown by her partner's evident departure.
The man threw a heated glance over his shoulder. "Where do you think? I'm going to find him."
"Duncan, my appointment." The woman attempted to halt the man.
It was a futile, though. "So cancel. Or close the shop. I really don't care."
As the door slammed behind the Immortal, Tessa was left alone with nothing else to focus her attention on except her guilt.
Stepping into the chintzy diner, the Immortal briefly scanned the room. Laying eyes on the boy in a back booth, he breathed a sigh of relief at finally having found the lad. One thing was for certain: Richie Ryan was good at laying low when he didn't want to be found. It had taken Duncan a good afternoon to finally hunt him down.
Sidling up to the booth, the Immortal attempted to take in both Richie's attitude and his companion in the few seconds before his presence was noticed. Walking up to the pair, Duncan nonchalantly sat down next to Richie. Casually moving the unyielding teen with his side, the Immortal looked up at the greasy man staring menacingly at him.
The man's years of hardening were evident just with a quick look: the slight scar through one eyebrow, the tattoos peeking out underneath his clothes, the skull hanging conspicuously around his neck. Normally priding himself for not judging others by appearances, Duncan found himself doing just that. And the appearance of this man made it more than clear to the Immortal that this thug had no good business to conduct with Richie.
"Can I help you?" The man questioned flatly.
Earning an innocent smile from Duncan. "No, thanks. I already found what I was looking for."
Richie groaned as the Immortal nodded in his direction. Looking over at the man across from him, he mouthed something the Immoral didn't quite have the chance to make out. Nodding, the man grunted in acknowledgement and stood slowly.
"Pleasure meeting you." Duncan called after him sweetly before turning back to look at the teen on his left.
Sliding over to the far end of the greasy booth, Richie put one leg up on the seat. To a casual observer, it would appear as if the teen was opening himself up to chat. Duncan wasn't a casual observer, though. He knew full well that it was Richie's way of distancing himself from his employer.