บท 9: Her thoughts.
When he walked out of the area, Miss Blaire's window rolled in and she said, " Get in." Then she immediately rolled it up not even getting a word from him.
So Neville got in. He felt that it was something that he couldn't refuse.
Meanwhile O'Brien was staring daggers at Neville, he clicked his tongue and walked to his squad car where Number 1 was sat cuffed in the backseat, he was quite. After being electrocuted he didn't say a word.
Meanwhile in the car, Neville sat beside her, he wanted to sit in front but he was ordered to sit in the back.
" Miss, Where are we headed to?" Neville asked.
" Presley." She said, they were headed to the original location.
The rest of the ride was quite, when they arrived she got out of the car and said, " Follow."
And that he did, the moment they were a couple of feet away, the car drove off. When they got in, the people there received her well with greeting.
" Drink with me Mr. Grey." She said.
" Miss, I'm not dressed for the-"
" I don't mind." She said as they were led into the luxurious bar.
Its interior a blend of classic and opulent design, featuring plush velvet seating, polished black marble countertops, and intricate chandeliers that cast low, warm and inviting glow. The walls are adorned with tasteful artworks and mirrors reflectingthe low lights of the bar. Behind the counter was an extensive selection of premium spirits, fine wines, and an 'experienced' looking mixologist.
The moment they stepped in, the soft jazz that had filled the air suddenly quietened, the mixologist then herded them out.
Now only two stood in the quiet bar. Miss Blaire led Neville to the bar counter where a bottle of wine was already prepped with two glasses beside it. She poured Neville a glass, the red liquid trailing on the edges before collecting at the base, she handed it to him before having her own. After a couple of sips, she started, "What do you know about... Mr. Mosby?" she asked the man who still hadn't sipped from his glass.
Neville replied, "He is my employer. Apart from that, we have no relationship whatsoever." He stared bluntly, meeting her aloof purple eyes.
"Mmm... the night you drove Mr. Blaire, can you describe how you, a 'B' class driver, had the opportunity to drive a client like Mr. Blaire?" she said, her tone heavy.
Neville finally took a sip and said, "I don't know. I was assigned the job like always. I didn't question it. I only knewof the client's importance when I got the car and read his profile. And as for his lack of security and choice of our firm , that's a mystery to me as well. Even you, had guards trailing you while He didn't." His voice was firm.
Miss Blaire's expression remained impassive, her eyes boring into him as if lookingfor fault. After a long moment, she stood up, her voice cold. "Thank you for your cooperation. And regarding today's incident, you will be compensated."
Miss Blaire exited the bar, her figure disappearing into the hallway. Just as she left, a burly, bald man with a goatee strode in, his black suit not hiding his well proportioned body. He approached Neville with a sealed envelope in hand, he extended his hand to the man in silence. Neville, assuming it was the promised compensation, took it without hesitation.
A silent nod was the only response to his unspoken question about leaving.
Stepping out into the cool night air, Neville felt a sudden 'sobering' effect. The earlier buzz from the sip of wine had vanished, replaced by a sharp clarity. A glance at his phone confirmed the late hour, 9:29 PM. With a sigh, he ordered a ride home. All this time he was being observed till he left the property.
******************
Miss Blaire sat behind her sleek, ebony desk, a frown creasing her brow. Her office was bathed in the soft glow of ambient lighting. Across from her, a woman, petite and professional, exuded an aura of 'competence'. Her freckled cheeks, barely visible beneath a layer of makeup, and her large-lensed glasses added a touch of nerdy charm. Her short, blonde hair framed her small, delicate plump features, and her modest attire, her waist small giving the illusion of wide hips. Overall she exuded a professional tomboy assistant.
```
Name: Neville Grey
Profession: B Class Driver(Fired)
Education: Med School Dropout( probable cause: finance)
Relationship Status: Single
Family: Brother, Mother
Criminal Record: None
Evaluation:
* Quiet and reserved individual with minimal social interaction.
* No known criminal history or affiliations with illegal activities or groups.
* Limited interaction with family and neighbors.
* Significant financial debt due to educational loans for his younger brother.
* Prior bodyguard training, was expelled due to insubordination.
```
Miss Blaire sat at her desk, her gaze fixed on the profile of Neville Grey. Claire, the loyal and inquisitive assistant, stood before her, a mix of curiosity and concern etched on her face.
"Miss, this is what we gathered on him," Claire began, "Given more time, we can delve deeper, but do you believe he's responsible for Mr. Edward's death?"
Miss Blaire, her expression unreadable, replied, "From this alone? No. But unexpected things always happen. You searched his apartment, correct?"
Claire nodded. "Yes, I sent someone, but there was nothing noteworthy. His transaction history is unremarkable, mostly debts and minor purchases. No sudden influx of wealth. We'll try to check for any storage units registered under his name or his family." She paused, her curiosity piqued. "But why did you have him fired?"
Miss Blaire just sighed and dismissively said. "It was a whim, really. And after seeing this profile, it became clear he was out of place. The others in that company are all shady or opportunistic. He would have been ruined."
Claire raised an eyebrow. "I didn't know you were so charitable."
Miss Blaire ignored the implication.
"What are your plans with Mosby and the company?" Claire asked.
"I want to gain the upper hand in future," Miss Blaire replied, her voice low.
"I understand," Claire said, nodding. "Well, good night, Miss."
As Claire left, Miss Blaire's gaze was fixed on her back, her thoughts unknown before it returned to the profile, a thoughtful expression settling on her face.
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