Christopher sat in the wrought iron bistro chair with his back straight, and his legs crossed. The lines of his fitted, grey suit were crisp. One polished leather loafer bounced ever so slightly. He faced out to the sidewalk but did not appear to pay much attention to the people walking back and forth. Even if he had, it would have been impossible to tell through the dark lenses of his sunglasses.
Christopher didn’t turn when the seat on the other side of the table pulled out and the person he was waiting for sat down. Instead he lifted his mug from the table and took a sip.
“My dear Sonja, why the formality?”
“You shouldn’t have gone to the funeral.”
Christopher turned his head further away. “It’s not a big deal. I just wanted to see how they would react.”
“If they knew anything at all you could have ruined it all right then and there.”
Sonja sighed and rolled her large, hazel eyes. She looked away and tucked a stray wisp of light brown hair behind her ear.
Christopher smiled. “It was… exhilarating. Being that close to them. Looking in their eyes.”
“It was stupid.”
They both stared straight ahead. Christopher kept one hand on the mug. Sonja crossed her arms and tapped at her bicep with a short cut fingernail.
“Have you booked the tickets?” Sonja said.
“Of course. I told you.”
“You keep saying that, but I haven’t seen the proof.”
“Would you like me to wave them around and present them to you with fanfare or a string quartet?”
“Of course not.”
“Then don’t worry. We leave tomorrow night.”
“What about the gun?” Christopher said.
Sonja’s face lost all expression. She looked to the eyes of each person walking by. “What about it?”
“Did they find it?”
“Yes. Two days ago.”
“And the prints?”
Christopher smiled. “Excellent.”
“Don’t be too proud of yourself, we’re not done with this yet.”
Sonja leaned forward and pulled her buzzing phone from her pocket. She glanced at the number, and then answered the call. “Detective Kohli speaking.”
Image by Kaleigh Kanary