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Leon called his office from a payphone. It barely rang twice before he heard the click of the phone being lifted from the hook.

"Kennedy Investigations."

"How are things back at the office, Hunnigan? Armies of potential clients busting in the door to see Raccoon City's greatest detective?"

"Oh, bushels," she replied sarcastically. "I turned them down for you. I said the case needed to at least require purchasing a ticket to ride the Orient Express or visiting an ancestral home on the moors or it wasn't glamorous enough for you."

"'Atta girl. Any messages for me?"

"Miss Wong keeps trying to get a hold of you. I told her you were out of the office."

"I've got a few more leads I want to check up on. Get out of there and go see a movie or get a drink or something."

"Okay. Will do."

Leon flipped through Chris' notebook. Only a few more pages had addresses written down. He spent the rest of his evening visiting those addresses. They were all located in the least glamorous parts of the city. At each stop, the people Leon talked to, like Jessica Trevor, barely could hold on to two nickels to try to rub together. Most were more sober than Jessica Trevor had been, but far less cooperative. They'd already spoken with detectives. Now they just wanted to be left alone in their worry and grief.

There were plenty of other names and descriptions in the notebook, but no more home addresses. It occurred to Leon that might be because those didn't have homes. He remembered asking Barry Burton who Chris had been looking for and Barry saying not anyone whose name he would recognize.

The sun had gone down when Leon made it back to his office. The door was wide open.

Hunnigan was gone, and her usually painstakingly organized desk had been turned inside out. The drawers of her filing cabinets were opened and papers were scattered all over the floor. The drawers of the desk were all opened, with the heavier objects set aside on top of the desk to make the contents easier to rifle through.

Leon was hardly shocked that his inner office had received the same treatment. Leon sighed as he looked at the empty bottle on his desk and the drinking glass beside it.

What was he supposed to do? Report this to the police? One of them had probably done it. It wouldn't be the first time Captain Albert Wesker had let himself in. Leon clutched Chris' notebook in his pocket. He'd be sleeping with it under his pillow now. The same way, according to Claire Redfield, Chris had slept with a revolver under his.

"What happened to your office?"

Leon walked towards the voice. It was Ada, standing in the door to the hallway, wearing a little black dress.

"Looks like I had a visitor while I was gone," Leon said.

Ada gasped when he came close enough for her to get a good look at him.

"What happened to your face?"

"That noticeable, huh?"

"Do you ever quit joking around?"

Leon just stared at her for a moment.

"No," he finally said.

"I hope this wasn't all on my account," Ada said, slowly running her fingers along his jaw, noting each of his cuts and bruises.

"Police chief thought the station needed a new rug," Leon said. "He figured he'd try me out for the job. Did a good job wiping his feet off on me."

"You don't seem like the kind of man who'd let anyone use you as a doormat," Ada said. She scanned the mess in the office. "Did they take anything important from you?"

"Just half of a bottle of whiskey. Do you wanna take a seat at my desk, Ada?"

Ada shook her head.

"How about we share a cab back to your place?" she said.

Leon turned out the lights and locked the doors. Not that the locks had done him much good. The mess would still be there in the morning.

They didn't talk much on the way back to Leon's apartment. Leon rested his aching head against the cool glass of the taxi window, and Ada watched him, studying his injuries in the light of the street lamps as the shadows danced over him.

The cab stopped and Leon got out.

Ada stared at him with those dark, mesmerizing eyes of hers.

"Invite me up for a drink, would you?"

Leon yawned, but he gestured for her to follow him.

When he opened the door to his apartment, Ada stuck her head in and looked around. Her eyes widened with concern when she looked back at him.

"Did someone break in?"

Leon entered his apartment, expecting it to look like his office.

"Sorry," he said. "This is just the way it looks. I wasn't expecting company."

He was already feeling half asleep when he stumbled towards the couch.

"I kept trying to get Miss Hunnigan to tell me where you were," Ada said. "She said if you wanted to see me you'd get in touch."

"I don't know how I'd function without her," Leon said.

"It must be nice to have someone who has your back like that," Ada said. "That's something I'd kill for."

For a moment, she turned away and seemed to shrink. The corners of her full lips curled downwards and her eyes fluttered towards the ground. Leon felt a wave of melancholy wash over him, like a blue wave washing over garbage on the shore to drag it down into its depths.

"From what I've seen, the more you trust someone to watch your back, the more you should worry they're just looking for a place to stick the knife," he said.

He moved some old newspapers and dirty clothes off of the couch and beckoned for Ada to sit.

"How about those drinks?" she asked.

"I've got a bottle of red wine around here somewhere, if that works for you."

"It does."

Leon made his way to the kitchen, located the bottle, then rinsed a couple of whiskey glasses in the sink. He set the glasses down on the coffee table and then uncorked the bottle.

"Seems a bit expensive for your tastes," Ada said as Leon poured.

"A gift from Mayor Graham," Leon explained. "A thank you for the whole Ashley thing. I've been saving it for a special occasion."

"What's the occasion?"

"I suppose you are."

Something flashed in Ada's dark eyes and she smiled.

"That's sweet."

Leon took his seat next to Ada.

"Sorry I don't have the right glasses for it," he said. "Now, what were you doing at my office?"

"I was hoping you'd made some kind of progress finding out what happened to Chris."

Leon watched her drink, the red wine splashing against her red lips as she tilted the glass.

"Every time I think I'm taking one step forward, I have to take two steps back," he admitted. "Unfortunately, that's usually how this job goes."

Ada reached out and softly touched his face. Her touch was like silk on his bruises.

"Does that hurt?" she said softly.

"Not right now it doesn't," Leon said, closing his eyes and relaxing his muscles. "Right now it feels good."

She gently brushed his hair out of his face. He was breathing in the tobacco on her breath and the perfume on her skin.

"Let me ask you something," Leon said. "That note you left for Chris. Why did you want him to meet you?"

He opened one eye back up to study her reaction.

"He was the one who wanted to meet me," Ada said.

"But the note . . . "

"We'd been slipping notes back and forth," Ada said. "He'd been trying to talk to me about a big break in the case. But it seemed like there wasn't a good time or place for us to meet. I finally thought of the clock tower plaza and slipped the paper under his door to let him know."

"Calling my office all the time to bust my chops isn't going to make me work any faster," Leon said. "I'll get in touch with you as soon as I have something worthwhile for you."

Ada looked at him.

"I have a confession," she said slowly. "Maybe it's not just about Chris. Maybe I wanted to hear your voice again."

"And why would you want to do that?"

Ada looked down at the little bit of wine remaining at the bottom of her glass.

"I don't know," she said quietly. "I just feel safe around you. Like I don't have to always be on guard. I've never felt that way about anyone else before."

Leon reached up and gently ran his fingers across the bangs hanging down Ada's forehead. Her lips trembled. His hand shook.

"You are dangerous," he muttered as he finished his glass of wine.

"That was very good," Ada said, after she'd taken her last sip. "What did you think?"

"To be honest, I think I'd still take whiskey over wine."

Ada held up her empty glass.

"Maybe we both just need another drink so it can grow on you."

"Nah," Leon said, shaking his head. "That first glass went straight to my head. I'd better go to sleep while I'm still thinking clearly. Need me to call you a cab?"

"No," Ada said, setting down her glass and standing up slowly. "There's a payphone across the street. I can wait down in the lobby."

"Good night, Ada."

"Good night, Leon." She stopped with her hand on the door knob and turned her head to look at him over her shoulder. "Sometimes I think maybe I shouldn't have dragged you into all of this."

"Since I've met you, I've had multiple guns waved in my face," Leon said. "I've been beaten unconscious at least twice. And I've been threatened more times than I can count."

"Are you sure you want to keep going down this rabbit hole?"

"Just call me Alice," Leon said.

Ada didn't say another word. She opened the door and slipped into the apartment, disappearing into the night.

Leon's breath came long and slow as he picked up her glass and looked wistfully at the smudge of lipstick she'd left behind.