Tristan Frets About The Terms

Tristan cursed and swore as he paced back and forth in his basement living room. Steve and Barry sat awkwardly, not used to the anxiety and anger their friend was expressing.

“Its like she’s got me by the balls and she knows it. Likely doesn’t even know how to mix the stuff herself. FUCK?!” Pointing the remote at the tv Tristan played the video feed again. The drop point had been set up with a trail camera the day Tristan met with Jaunie. He expected there wouldn’t be a delivery until today, but the camera showed something different.

The feed suddenly started, the motion sensor tripped by something completely unseen, the dark silhouette and glinting sheen of the bottles appearing, 2 at a time.

Tristan couldn’t believe it. Kicking himself for not having spent extra on a night vision model he wondered how anyone could even have navigated there without a flashlight.

“What about the roadside feeds?” Barry asked hoping to provide some answer and calm to Tristan.

“Nadda.” Tristan replied somewhat calmer.

“What is the cost of doing business?” Steve asked looking at the six bottles they’d retrieved first thing in the morning, the camera having triggered a burner that texted them about the drop.

“Two bills and a third of the product.” Tristan sighed deeply. “She implied they were non-negotiable.”

“Write down her name and phone number. Then get to work.” Steve plainly remarked with a sigh.

“What part didn’t you…”

“I’m not even going to use it.” Steve cut Tristan off. “We’ve been given a cart blanche to make a nice penny. You want to get to the source of whatever it is your refining. Vito has an interest, he also has investigators for just this sort of crap.”

“What does he get out of it?” Barry asked a little incredulous. “I mean, he might want a bigger take.”

Tristan looked to Steve with sudden concern.

“Not likely. The big concern they have is their market has suddenly become blocked in the metropolitan areas. They’re prepping for a turf war but short of going after gambling dens or brothels its as if the **** market has just vanished.” Steve replied recounting the chats in the van Vito had with his guys.

“Why not just visit those places?” Barry remarked with a shrug plainly as if it was asimple thing to do.

“Because you look pretty weak walking in to discuss business not going as usual up on their turf in a place they’ve fortified." Breathing deep Steve shook his head before continuing. “The public aren't fond of **** dens. You shoot up a couple and pressure and political will swell to shut them down. Properties become forfeit, distribution is seriously incapacitated. You create a lot of difficulty and heat without necessarily removing the blockage. They're trying to find the crux of the problem so they can resume business, or take it all.” Turning back to Tristan Steve nodded.

“So let’s play good dog, and let the experts we can access try to answer the question of how to cut out the middleman.” Steve summed up looking at Tristan. “Otherwise, well we have the terms. We can start getting this batch on market tonight to help cover costs in the meantime."

2 days later

Tristan froze as he got home placing down his groceries and looking around suspiciously as the door hung open. Cautiously looking around Tristan could spot nothing else suspicious before carefully entering and trying to quietly descend his stairs.

Entering his den Tristan scowled at he gazed upon an short balding unkept man, chewing bubble gum and casually swirl beer around in a half drunk bottle.

“I was wondering when you were going to be home.” The man remarked in a squeaky yet scratchy voice with a strange aura of confidence.

“Who the fuck are you, and what the hell are you doing in my home!” Tristan demanded, feeling suddenly more confident seeing who was intruding and that they had come alone.

“You called for me.” The man nonchalantly replied standing up. “Ready to talk business.” He added as Tristan gave him an absolutely stupefied look as a creased manila folder was pulled from a bag at the mans feet and discarded haphazardly on the table.

“I don’t even…”

“Nor will you. You’re not paying me.” The man crudely cut Tristan off before giving a suddenly deathly serious stare. “I’m an independent researcher. I learn things about things for things that I keep little record of and fewer questions.”

Sighing deeply as he continued to be given a perplexed look the strange man leaned forward flipping the file folder open before leaning back to take another swig of his drink.

There on the top of the stack of documents was a photo of Jaunie leaving the local mall.

“I see, that has grabbed your attention.” The strange man mockingly remarked grinning as Tristan scowled at him.

“You work for…”

“MYSELF.” The strange man interrupted loudly before point at Tristan’s cameras. “I work for myself. In fact, I enjoyed the offer to get out of town to do this research. Learned I need to seriously consider moving further.” The strange man remarked wiping a hand across his balding head.

Sitting down Tristan spread out the documents slightly. “Are these legit?” Tristan asked as he pulled out and held up a high school transcript.

“I don’t do fiction or fraud. World’s strange enough.” The man replied leaning back with his beer, glancing at his watch, and wondering just how long he should hang about to answer queries. Not that it mattered, this was all billable hours.

Tristan glanced at the high school transcript of Jaunie Andrae, business, law, English, math… As he browsed down, he finally found some science courses. The basic general ones everyone had to take in their early years.

Not too surprised Tristan cast that document aside, puzzling over a series of tax forms.

“Once I ruled out her as having a significant science background I moved on to those around her. Her father’s a drop out. His school record is so old that its sitting in a box somewhere where I can’t get a hold of it. He’s been working the same manufacturing welding job for about 30 years. Her mother is a Junior Middle School teacher with no background in the sciences.” The strange man began prattling facts off the top of his head as Tristan picked up documents and pictures in their assorted chapter order of the stranger’s investigation.

As Tristan came to recent photos of Jaunie outside the mall the strange man sighed heavily.

“Social connections get a bit hazy. But there was nothing there. Closest I found was an ex-boyfriend from grade 10. He works for some pharmaceutical company abroad. Hasn’t been in town since he graduated. Estranged from his family and most of the people here due to his lifestyle.” The stranger began sitting forward and pulling one photo from the back of the folder.

“Lifestyle?” Tristan asked quizzically to be given a stone cold look.

“They’re gay. Apparently their folks didn’t take it nicely. There isn’t much social support for such things here. But that isn’t the interesting part.” Breathing deeply the strange man assorted some pictures and social media posts from the folder into two separate files. “Up to a week ago she hung out periodically with this co-worker named Gia. And regularly with a group of about 6 to 10 people. All from high school or her stints in post secondaries. Now, daily she’s associating with this co-worker, and these others.”

Reaching into his bag the stranger produced one folder for each of the girls.

“Amy, Cody, Gia, Jelena, Jennifer, and Zack.” The stranger rather crudely announced as he dropped a folder for each on the table. “Near as I can tell… Well 3 of them worked at the mall within the last month. The others are known associates of Amy's. No chemistry or advance science background connections in any of them.”

“So you found nothing…” Tristan stated seeing a dark sober concern in the strange mans eyes. The strange man fidgeted for a second, suddenly revealing some aspect of insecurity before he quickly downed the last of the beer in the bottle and announced its completion by landing the empty bottle on the table.

“Not quite. Now I was REAL grateful when this opportunity come up. Like seriously, I was going stir crazy thinking about getting out of town, when.. Well, this gave me a reason.” The man suddenly exuded a strange enthusiasm his right hand moving and point randomly. “Until. Until..." The strange man's voice seemed to crack, and grew saddened. "I found the same thing as I did in the city looking for the missing dealers, addicts, and known underworld associates. Something I thought was suspiciously localized having reached and rooted itself so strangely farther.” Swallowing slow and deeply the stranger stared deeply into Tristan’s eyes. Questioning the old adage of the windows to the soul he considered solemnly and deeply if he dared to share just what he had been finding.

“What did you find?” Tristan asked with sudden, burgeoning curious need. “WHAT. Did

The stranger pursed his lips and considered his audience for a moment. “Nothing as crazy as hookers and thugs working as cops.” He replied coyly, watching intently for Tristan’s reaction.

As Tristan looked perplexed by the statement the stranger made up his mind. “I think we’re done here. Its been a pleasure.” The stranger’s voice seemed to gravely convey as he got up and put the final unshared folder back in his bag.

“Do yourself a favor. Keep your eyes out for anything unusual. Save yourself some trouble. Avoid it.” As Tristan asked what the stranger meant and for more details the investigator slowly stepped past him and exited.