[hr][hr][center][h1][b][i][color=orangered]Caesar[/color] & [color=darkgoldenrod]Keystone[/color][/i][/b][/h1]
[img][/img][hr][b][color=dimgray]Location:[/color][/b] Chicago (Outside of Grimaldi Books)
[b][color=ff4500]Skills:[/color][/b] N/A
[b][color=b8860b]Skills:[/color][/b] N/A [hr][hr][/center]

	While this new visitor to Grimaldi Books eyed Mr. Gonzalez, Keystone got an eyeful of [i]her[/i]. This was a face that he had seen before, and for the first couple of seconds he couldn't place exactly from here. Much of this came from the astronomically unlikely possibility of seeing her by unweighted chance. Especially in Chicago, in front of this bookstore. But when his brain clicked in recognition, the big man went into full work mode. First, he was quiet. As soon as the mystery woman entered the building, he confided in his employer and local associate. 

	[color=b8860b]"Boss, Miss McManus? I know that country-fried tart. Well I ain't knowin' [i]persay[/i], but she was front and bloody center when that incident 'appened at the Justice location, y'see. I saw 'er check in at the front, an' then bugger else afters. All bodies accounted for with statements, an' [i]she ain't one of 'em.[/i] She was there, sir. If this's full coincidence, then I've got the Crown Jewels for a dong-ring."[/color] 

	Caesar began this new chapter of epic fuckery debating whether to wonder, one way or another, if this woman giving him the eye was doing so because he stood out in Chicago as an outsider, if she thought he was cute in his own rugged, elder way, or if there was something sinister about it. He couldn't help but feel an odd sort of familiarity with the lady, like the half-faded memory of a dream that was done away with by the drama of waking life, only to be recalled after a specific trigger. Keystone's explanation did give him a sense of pragmatic anger, knowing full well how the incident at the Queensguard R&D facility back in California had done his company a massive disservice. He wasn't present for it as he was attending the funeral of his daughter. Keystone was. If this woman was involved, and according to his partner it was likely in the extreme, then they couldn't just walk away. Still, he could swear he knew this woman from [i]somewhere[/i], the details lost in the ethereal of his mind. 

	Then again, Caesar had his own brush with more solid familiarity. In the truck just in front, he spotted someone he knew. Or at least, who he'd seen around. Even heard her name once or twice. But like the other woman, it was highly improbable that she would be here. Not unless there was some level of involvement. Being as he tended to live in a haze of confusion and misplaced speculation these days, Caesar decided to take a more direct method of sating his curiosity. He was going to ask, like an actual person might. First though, he gave orders. [color=ff4500]"Claire, thank you for fixing this thing with Book Lady. Let me know what you can. If you find out anything about the woman, same. Keystone, hang outside here. Car information, general descriptions. If Claire can get you back inside, good. Partner with her until I'm back. Need to be neighborly."[/color] 

	Keystone wasn't fully sure what he meant by that last statement, but responded with his typical, [color=b8860b]"On it, Boss."[/color] 

	It was a short saunter over to the Silverado. [color=ff4500]"Mali, right?"[/color] He was trying to sound friendly, though it wasn't his strong suit. [color=ff4500]"Caesar Gonzalez. I live in Boston Heights - we're neighbors. Have you had lunch yet?[/color] Probably gruffer than he intended. Making friends wasn't in his goodie bag of interpersonal skills in any official capacity. But he was loaded, and that helped. [color=ff4500]"If you or your friend know a place near here, I'm buying."[/color] It might be a good thing he declined the metric ton of Chinese from earlier.