Back to it!
Judging from the decor and the clientele, La Citadelle Écarlate was popular with the city guard. Not his first choice for a place to have a quiet talk, but it wasn’t as if he was actually wanted for anything illegal. At least, wanted by name. Not reporting a dead body was probably a crime, whether or not it was even Waylon’s business in the first place.
If being around a bunch of weirdly dressed state troopers bothered his new friend, it didn’t show on her face. Which he had to admit was a nice one: gray eyes, nicely kissable lips, and a tawny complexion that was as almost as much out of place in this sub-arctic city as his own dark brown. Pinned-up golden brown hair completed the picture… and the thoroughly sensible dress of a Greater Hershey commercial agent drew a new one. One probably captioned, Business First.
Waylon grinned, not really worrying if she saw. After all, it didn’t have to be Business Only, did it? But since it was business… “All right,” he said, after the drinks had been brought out. “You wanted to talk, so let’s talk. Not that I know anything about our mutual acquaintance.”
