A/N: This is a little different, isn't it? It's a nice change of pace. Onto the main event. I give you Walker, PI Ch 2, The Pitch
Disclaimer: I don't own Chuck.
(Italics indicate a voiceover)
I studied him for a minute, and I made no effort to hide what I was doing. He was uncomfortable, but I didn't care. He was a good-looking guy, one who hadn't shaved for a few days, and who smelled like he had had a few drinks, but that's okay, I just needed to catch up.
"If you know someone's going to die, why do you need my help, why don't you just go to the police?" I asked, pretty sure I already knew. He scoffed and looked at me like I was crazy.
"I don't know if you've heard, but there's some that think I had something to do with killing Jill Roberts. There are others that think I'm a drunk, and there are others still who think I just lost my mind." He straightened, and began to pace around the room, not nervously, but like there was a need to move and keep himself active. It was like he didn't even notice it. "All of them think I'm worthless, and even those that don't think I am won't believe me."
"Why should I believe you?" He walked over to his coat, reached inside the pocket, pulled out a fat envelope, and dropped it on the table in front of me. I opened it, and nearly choked. I looked at the bills, reached over, poured two fingers, and knocked them back. I looked up at him, and he had a grin on his face. I wanted to knock it off his face, and I didn't know why. What bothered me the most is I didn't know if I wanted to slap it off, punch it off, or kiss it off. Okay, I did know, but I didn't want him to know.
"You don't have to believe me, I just want to hire you." You'd think in this day and age, a female detective would be able to get just as much, or more business as a male one. You'd be wrong. I could use the money. It wasn't like I had any other cases, but part of me wondered, did he know that?
"Why me?" I asked, fearing the answer, but not letting him see that.
"When you were on the force, you did whatever you had to do. Some people didn't like that and thought you should leave. It wasn't right. You were good at what you did. You made a mistake and got more of a punishment than deserved, because they knew they couldn't control you. I want the best. Besides, I got treatment kinda similar when my girlfriend died." He waved at the envelope like he didn't care. "It's my company's money. Take it as retainer, and if I owe you more I'll gladly pay whatever. This is just to get you to consider the case. That's all. You don't take the case, you keep all the money." I stared at him for a minute. I'd have to work this case for six months solid for me to need any more money. I was a little desperate, monetarily. I was beginning to feel a little desperate for other reasons as well, and that wasn't bothering me like I thought it should.
"You realize, when you hire me, I stay with a case until it is solved, regardless if you like the outcome or not?" He looked down for a minute, sighed, looked back at me, and nodded. There was something about that…it just struck me…I couldn't put my finger on it. He took a deep breath, and had a look on his face like he was about to sell his soul.
"Can I hire you?" I nodded absently, not even really realizing what I was doing. I had a client, one that actually paid up front, but there was something about him that puzzled me…in many different ways.
"It's a little late tonight, what do you say we start in the morning?" He looked a little unhappy with that and stared at the desk, not seeming to really look at anything. He nodded. I decided to play some more. "Did you want to start tonight?" He shrugged, missing my intent.
"It doesn't really matter. I have nothing to go home to, so I forget that others still have other people in their lives," He said it factually, not bitterly. I decided I wanted to pursue this, even though a voice in my head told me it was a bad idea.
"I don't have anything to go home to either," I replied. Part of me wondered why I said that, and part of me wondered why I didn't say more. He nodded, still not looking at me.
"Tomorrow, meet me at the café across the street from the museum." With that he turned to leave. I let him turn and start toward the coat rack before I spoke.
"Any particular time?" He turned back around and nodded toward the envelope.
"My phone number is the envelope. Just call me before you head over there." He waited this time to make sure I didn't have any more questions. I had one. I had a good one.
"Will you be okay tonight?" Part of me couldn't believe my brashness, part of me couldn't believe I wasn't brasher, but I was concerned. There was something more going on here than the theft. He was hurt. The kind of hurt that will make you go to any length necessary to get revenge. See that's why I'm so mad at myself. I knew. Even then, I knew, but I couldn't stop myself if I wanted to…and I didn't want to. He never answered. He gathered his hat and coat, tipped his hat toward me, and walked out the door. If only I had never followed him….but I did.
A/N: Seriously, this thing was so much fun to write. Reviews and PMs are always welcomed!
DC
