Jackson was to say the least a town for the very rich. Everywhere Eliot went he was greeted with the sight of freshly mowed lawns and very expensive looking houses. Eliot felt very out of place being from a small country town. He found his hotel which he thankfully didn't have to pay for since Moreau had decided to give him money as to not blow his cover. The idea was he was going to pretend to be another rich CEO from Boston, here to meet the CEO, Jack Waterson and his daughter Melissa. Eliot had learned everything about the Waterson family from Moreau. Waterson's wife had died from a car accident just 3 years earlier, and since then he had thrown his life into his work soon becoming a very rich and successful businessman. Eliot had already scheduled a meeting between himself and Waterson for the next day so all there was nothing to do was settle in and wait for tomorrow.

Eliot stood in Waterson's office waiting for him to arrive. He slowly looked around the extravagant office. The wood panels that were so nice the cost of them could have probably bought two full apartments, the very neat and organized desk, and finally in the corner was a bar filled with almost any alcohol imaginable. This wasn't surprising since Eliot had learned from Moreau that Waterson was an alcoholic, and often came to parties drunk out of his mind. That was what Eliot figured his way in was. He would introduce himself now and then later he would get closer at one of Waterson's extremely fancy parties.

The door opened, and who he assumed was Mr. Waterson, entered the room. Eliot looked at the man up and down. Waterson was mostly bald, with only a few black hairs left on his square shaped head. He was wearing the outfit of someone very high up in the social ladder. Sleek business shoes that looked like they had just been shined this morning, an elegant suit on his body, and a fancy tie pulled so tight around his chubby neck that it appeared to be choking him. Mr. Waterson was a fairly large man, and was quite short, so much so that Eliot had to look down on him. The man had an air of confidence and cockiness. Eliot was slightly disgusted by Waterson as he watched him cross the room to the neat desk. "Take a seat" said Waterson gesturing his hand to one of the chairs in front of the desk. Eliot slowly strode over to the seats, and lowered himself into the chair. "And who are you?" Waterson asked in a very pompous voice, while examining Eliot with beady eyes. "James Smith, from the Boston branch. I am here to make you an offer Mr. Waterson, my boss would like to be a "client" so to speak, of yours, we can pay a fair price," replied Eliot in his almost flawless Boston accent. This of course was a lie just so Eliot could get near Waterson. Waterson looked him over, he almost seemed to read Eliot's mind. Eliot shifted underneath Waterson's gaze, not something that Waterson missed.

When he finally spoke he said something that instantly made Eliot's job about a thousand times easier, "Well Mr. Smith I am sure we can work something out, tomorrow night I am having a party of sorts at my own house and I want you to come, there we can discuss business, I will text the address to you." Eliot was so happy he could almost shout for joy. This meant he could not only get close to Waterson but he could also see what his daughter looked like. "That sounds fine." Eliot said, barely containing his joy. He was slightly suspicious about how fast he got invited to the party but he soon just passed it off as nothing. He would get close to Waterson at the party and eventually get close enough to cover his tracks.

[Tomorrow at the party]

Eliot slowly walked around the gigantic living room observing the beautiful golden painted walls with intricate paintings of flowers that almost looked hand painted. He had very little interest in the other people at this party. Everyone was in expensive suits and beautiful dresses that practically screamed that they were rich, but Eliot just kept on admiring the walls. They were really excellently done, the mesmerizing patterns seemed to weave themselves across the walls all ending up to the giant gold and silver painted flower on the ground. Eliot didn't hear Waterson approach him, and jumped when he spoke, "Well done, aren't they?" Eliot quickly turned around almost pulling out the switchblade he had hidden underneath his white dress shirt and suit jacket. He quickly regained himself and replied, "Yes, they are. Are they hand-painted?" Waterson just chuckled. "Good eye. Yes they are hand-painted, by my daughter in fact, she has quite an eye for detail." He said laughing quietly at the last part as if there were some hidden joke in what he said.

Eliot immediately perked up at the mention of his daughter. He knew that killing Waterson would be pretty difficult but killing his daughter would be even harder since for one she was the daughter of an important CEO therefore she was bound to have some kind of security protecting her, but also Eliot had always had a soft spot for children and no matter how bad his line of work was he knew he could never sink to the level of killing innocent children. He tossed and turned all last night at these thoughts, he often thought he could never go through with it but whenever that thought came into his head a picture of his father lying dead inside a coffin quickly banished all those thoughts. He had to do this job. He just wished he could just kill them but he had to get close to find out if Waterson had told anyone about Moreau which made it worse. He was shaken out of his thoughts by Waterson laying a hand on his shoulder, "Come and mingle, you've been standing in the corner for the entire night." Eliot reluctantly followed Waterson.

For the next hour he met and talked with some of Waterson's colleagues, none of whom made any lasting impression on Eliot. Finally he broke away from Waterson and just walked around for a little bit considering no one had mentioned anything about Moreau to Watersonin the last hour, he figured that Waterson hadn't told anyone yet about Moreau. But that still left the daughter, just in case she knew, and told someone else. Eliot slowly looked at all of the guests. His eyes scanned the room until they landed on a beautiful young girl. She looked about sixteen with long chocolate hair flowing down to her back and starting blue eyes which met his for only a few seconds before moving on to scan the room. Eliot makes his way over to the girl, as she is sitting in the corner and looked rather bored. As he approached her she perked up a little and automatically tried to smooth the wrinkles in her gold dress. "Having fun?" Eliot asked with was the first real smile he had smiled all night. The girl just looked at him with a sarcastic look. Eliot chuckled at that and sat down at the table across from her. She looked him over and when her startling blue eyes landed on his very expensive suit jacket and watch her look changed almost immediately from curiosity to disgust. Eliot seeing this expression written all over her face quickly asked, "Is something wrong?" The girl just looked at him with a dumbfound look on her face. She then began to talk in a very sarcastic tone, "No nothing is wrong, seriously I am like 16 I am tired of all of my father's friends trying to get with me, it is just GROSS!"

Eliot looked at her, surprise written all over her face. He was astounded and a little disgusted now knowing that some of these men who were in their 30's or 40's had tried to get with a sixteen year old girl. He quickly said, "I am not one of those men that is for sure I just thought you looked lonely and came over to talk to you." The girl stared at him trying to find any trace of a lie on his face. There was none, she finally seemed to relax her shoulders for the first time since Eliot walked over here. She looked down at her hands and said softly, "Sorry it's just that some of daddy's friends try to you know," She broke off as if the topic embarrassed her. She reached a small hand over to Eliot, "Melissa, Melissa Waterson."

It was those three words that sent Eliot into a panic. This was the girl he was suppose to kill he realized, this was the girl he was here for. Eliot looked at her in a stunned silence as he almost dream-like reached out and shook her hand. "James Smith," he replied in a soft voice. He stared at Melissa in a new light. He started to notice little things about her, like how she seemed to look down at her hands a lot, or how she seemed to glance around the room every few seconds to take in her surroundings, or worst of all the thin white lines that seemed to criss-cross across her tan skin, standing out like stars in the sky. She didn't notice Eliot looking at her scars but instead looked at him with a confused look that she quickly tried to hide when he looked up. "Well Melissa I am here to make a deal with your father," Eliot said trying to start conversation. At the mention of her father Melissa's face morphed into one of hate and resentment. "I can't really tell you much about my father, sorry." Eliot looked at her with confusion. "He is your father surly you know something about him?" She just shook her head and bitterly laughed, "Nah he never really notices me much, unless of course for my skills." Melissa said the last part so quietly that Eliot barely made it out, it was clear he was not suppose too hear that. He was about to respond, but just then Waterson decided to come walk over to their table.

"Well Mr. Smith I see you've met my daughter." Waterson said with a chuckle. He looked at Eliot and then to his daughter. They seemed to be having a silent conversation. Had Eliot not been trained to read people he would not have noticed the almost nonexistent tilt of Waterson's head towards himself, and the equally nonexistent nod of Melissa's head. Eliot wondered what these almost invisible head shakes meant, and how they had to do with him.

He stood and said, "Yes, I have and I must say that you have a very interesting daughter," Eliot turned and spoke to Melissa, "Is it true that you hand painted all of the flowers in the room?" He was truly curious because of the fine work of detail could not have been done by a 16 year old girl, a normal one that is, but something told Eliot that Melissa was far from normal. Melissa looked down at her lap, a scarlet blush was creeping onto her cheeks, "Yes," she replied softly, "Took me years to do the one on the floor." Eliot chuckled dryly, looking over at the silver and gold flower painted onto the floor. It really was magnificent, even compared to someone as good as Van Gogh. Eliot reached his hand over and shook with Waterson and Melissa. "Well it was very nice to meet you Melissa," He turned to Waterson, "I will be in town for a few more weeks Mr. Waterson, perhaps we can work out the details then?" Waterson nodded his head. Eliot started to stroll away but he heard just as he left Waterson and Melissa started to have a whisper argument about something. Eliot casually walked out of the fine house and into his car, Melissa never really leaving his mind the entire night.