“So what do I call you, mademoiselle?”
Remy asked, trying to catch up to her.
“Allise, just Allise,” she replied.
“Allise eh? Well, Allise, where we heading?”
“To the Broad Daslim bar. I'm sure we'll
find the man who owns this pin there. And, judging by this pin, the man is somewhat wealthy or
tied to someone else’s wealth.”
“You got all that from me and that wee
thing?”
Allise looked up at him. In the sunlight it
was easier to see him in more detail.
“Well, this pin is French, and we don't get
a lot of French people here. When you mentioned Broad, I remembered there was only one
place called this.”
Remy just nodded. Allise
knew they were getting closer.
“Why must you find these
men?” Remy asked once more.
“I'll explain that later. We
are here.”
Remy looked around. It
was located on a fancy part of
the four-way street. Across from
them sat the Broad Daslim bar.
Men were going in and out, and
it seemed to be a hotspot for the
ruthless of all people.
They both walked over, crossing the
street. Before they got to the bar, Allise stopped
Remy by grabbing his arm. She pulled him a little closer, whispering in his ear.
“Now when we get in here, don't say a
word. Let me talk to the owner. You look around
and see if you remember anyone from the other
night. Yes?”
Remy nodded. Allise went in first, pushing
the door open. Everyone's eyes were on her and
Remy. The air felt tense, but Allise paid the other patrons no mind. Her focus was on the bartender.
She walked over to the bar with a steady
pace. The tender stood there, shining a glass.
“May I help you, lass?” he asked kindly.
She smiled at him. “Yes I just wanted to
ask you if you've seen this pin before. I found it
earlier today.”
She handed the man the pin. He held it
up to the light, studying its shimmering texture.
“This definitely belongs to a French person,” he said, setting it down on the bar counter.
“So you've seen it before?”
He scratched his head. “Well, actually,
yes I have. I saw a man here the other night. Of
course he wasn't from around here, and I didn't
know where the bloke was from, or at least I didn’t until I saw this. This symbol is the mark of a
wealthy French man. They say he's the most
ruthless of all his kind, takes care of anyone that
makes bad deals with him.”
But if this French man made a bad deal
with McCarty, then what does my brother have
to do with this? Allise wondered
silently. Before she could speak
any further, Remy put his hand on
her arm.
“He's here,” Remy whispered in her ear, leaning over. Allise's eyes grew wide. She turned
around. The man was sitting in the
far corner, watching them. Then,
he sprung up and pulled a gun out
of his suit coat. Allise grabbed Remy, pulling him down to the floor.
In that second, the man fired. The
bullet hit glass, scattering pieces across the
counter.
“The man was
sitting in the far
corner, watching
them.”
The man bolted to the back door. Allise
shot up and ran after him, her gun at the ready.
Remy ran behind her. Throwing open the back
door, she looked around the back alley.
As she examined down the left side, Remy pulled her back in. A bullet zoomed past her
head, hitting the brick wall of the building.
“Thank you,” she said quickly.
She leaned back out, firing at the right
part of the alley. After a few shots, she could
hear the man stumbling and cursing to himself.
Finally, she and Remy ran out the door way and
headed to the corner of some wooden crates.
When they got there, the man was running down
the second alley, disappearing to the left. Allise
could feel her heart beating rapidly as they fol-
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