2019-07-21 - Let's Go For A Ride

In the driver's seat, there's Graham, wearing his own sepia-tinted sunglasses and blowing cigarette smoke out the window. He tosses the butt into the alley when the car rolls to a stop, puts it in park, and leans out the window while Andre makes his exit. "I think I know this chick. Like, I'm pretty sure I went to high school with her." (Take a drink.) This doesn't stop him from climbing out of the car, but it's an interesting side-fact, shared while he falls in step with his beefy counterpart.

"Yeah-- this is why the industrial age is the worst," Magnolia says this to no one in particular, though she does get a little side-eye from some old woman who-- really, lady? A cardigan? It's like a million degrees out here. The intrepid detective plucks a the collar of her airy t-shirt, trying to get some air onto the slight drip of sweat. She is about to call it a day, check in on the babysitter, and hit Dairy Queen on the way home when that black sedan pulls up. She gets a little tingle in the back of her neck-- the kind that would make her hairs stand-up if they were sticky with sweat. She narrows her eyes slightly as Graham gets out of the car next, and then she turns away from the two, and she gets out her phone and taps open to her camera. She strikes a selfie pose-- peace sign and a goofy smile, but she's aiming the camera in just a way so it barely catches the side of her face and a tap to the screen focuses the camera's eye on the car and the two dudes. She snaps a picture, and then slides the phone into her back pocket.

Just a shrug and a smile for all the people Graham knows. Knew? Probably knew, since a good many of those people are dead and gone now.

Through now fault of his own!

Anyway, he stuffs the car-keys into his pockets and smiles for Magnolia's camera, even if he can't be entirely sure he's in the shot. His smile is more the 'omg he's so pretty' type of disarming rather than 'omg that giant might kill me' type of disarming. "What's up," he chimes in after Andre, like this is just a pleasant meeting of old friends. Not at all like they're between Magnolia and the exit now.

Clearly. Magnolia checks her selfie, but she's zooming in on the two dudes and their slick black ride-- private investigators are crafty people. Then she is turning as she hears the call toward her, and she arches up her brows in an open expression of surprise. She steps forward, cautious in her approach. "Oh yeah? Which friend is that?" She crosses just close enough to not be shouting across the station at them, and but she still keeps a cautious distance. If she actually recognizes Graham, she fakes it with a bright smile that alights in her eyes easily enough. "Hey." Beat. "So. Which friend do I know?" She shifts slightly on the dirty tanned soles of her converse sneakers.

"Yeah, but not Jack in the Box. We'll go downtown, get some Firehouse. Real burgers, man." Graham offers Ye Olde Fistbump to Andre for this awesome post-encounter lunch date they just conspired to arrange, manages to pretend getting a fistbump from Andre isn't uncomfortable (it is; look at the size of that dude's fists!), and passes a smile to some onlooker that's picking up on the vibe between the thugs and Magnolia. That's why he's here: to look pretty so things don't immediately get out of hand. Like now, when he dims the smile enough to make it sympathetic for Magnolia. "Best thing would be to get in the car without making a lotta fuss about it." He points toward said car, right this way~.

Magnolia hooks her thumb around the strap of her canvas messenger bag, shifting it slightly so it's more behind her. Then both hands slide to rest on the small of her back, giving her easy access to the back pocket on the bag without looking suspicious. She glances between Graham and Andre, and then she... just bursts into laughter. It's bright, and matches the bright smile that follows it. "Oh. My. God." She shakes her head before she tilts her head at them. "Duuudes... that was like the worst. I'm gonna, like, give you another try here, because I seriously think you are both capable in doing the whole subtle intimidation thing better." Her right hand slides lower, fingers slipping around the traditional taser in her bag's pocket. "Take two!" Her shoulders lift encouragingly with her hands still behind her back.

Graham doesn't go brandishing weapons, because that never helps. But the implication is there, in the way he reaches back into his waistband, holding his hand between his coat and his back. Magnolia has a tazer in her bag; anyone wanna guess what Graham has in his belt? Sighing, nodding at the things Andre doesn't like, he agrees, "I know, bud, I feel you. So here's the thing."

A glance goes around at all the people that are suddenly minding their own business, since things have clearly gotten tense, then works its way back onto the chick that's laughing at them. "You can either go get in that car, or you can mace me and Andre and run for it. But we still gotta job to do, which means..." He's very sorry about this part, it makes his brows crease and his smile turn apologetic and everything. "Which means we gotta roll up to your house later. Where your kid is? And pick you up there."

Magnolia's foot slides backwards now, and her whole stance adjusts. Her fingers tighten around the grip of the taser. She's all ready for a throw-down, but then Graham goes a mentions Lark, and her jaw sets. The laughter and brightness evaporates, and the blonde is lowering her chin a bit while her blue eyes burn bright. "Yeah, you're going to learn so fucking fast that threatening my kid is the worst way to go." She shifts forward a step, and then another. But... then her hand loosens from her taser, but her posture remains tight and tense. "I'm not getting in the fucking car. I don't even use Uber I'm that against getting into the fucking car. You want to talk to me about Jack-Jack, then you can say whatever you need to say without me getting in the fucking car."

"For sure, man." Graham doesn't even hesitate to give away the caring of his future babies into Andre's keeping, just nods agreeably at this plan. The agreeability is short-lived, though, when he sighs at Magnolia getting all Mama Bear. "Well, don't say we didn't try. You might wanna line up a babysitter for the night." He takes his hand out from behind his back, weapon-free, and adds - on second thought, "Or maybe a couple days. Remember last time someone didn't get in the car?" He's already turning toward said car, ready to lead Andre back the way the came. "I miss that guy, he was funny."

Magnolia sets her jaw at the continued threats against her kid, and then she takes in a sharp breath before she advances two more steps, and then a third. There's panic in her chest, but she can't let that panic cause her to poorly react. She instead just loosens her shoulders, setting her jaw. "You touch my kid-- you lay one fucking fingertip on her-- and you are going to wish you hadn't asked me to get in the fucking car." Magnolia didn't risk her very life to get away from abusive ex-husband to have two thugs threaten her kid. Oh no. Then she intakes a sharp breath through her nose. "Open the fucking door," she snaps to Graham as she walks toward the car.

A hand opens deferentially: Graham doesn't need to get the door; Andre has already done so. The only thing he has to say to Magnolia's thing about her kid, etc., is a smiled, "A'ight." Then he slouches into the driver's seat, waits for Andre to remind everyone to put on their seatbelts, and turns over the car. The music that blasts out of the speakers is the top pop station, so it's "had to have high, high hopes for a living," and he drums his fingers on the steering wheel as they go. When the song switches over to Halsey, Graham grouses but keeps on driving.

They're heading to the edge of town. Is this about when Magnolia might start to wonder if she ever updated the beneficiary of her life insurance policy?

Magnolia swings her bag into her lap when she gets into the car, and she fastens her seatbelt. She hides the way her fingers shake by holding on tightly to the strap of her messenger bag. She doesn't say anything to the two as they drive on, and the further they head out of town, the tighter her jaw sets. She is thankful for two things right now: she let Byron know where she's going and all her photos get uploaded into the iCloud. She takes in a breath, steadying herself. Her fingers keep working at her bag in slow, almost meditative tightening and loosening.

"If you fucking taze me again, man..." Graham tilts the rearview to watch the scuffle, and the car does a couple swerves every time he cringes away from the business end of it. When it lands in the front seat, he delicately picks it up by the handle and stuffs it into the glove box, just so be extra-safe! Now then, eyes on the road, G.

He brings the car around into a nice little turn-out, hits the locks, and shifts in his seat. Leaning an elbow on the center console, chin on his hand, he settles so he can keep a good eye on the back-seat goings-on. Pasting on his listening face, he smiles at Magnolia, friendly-like. Not at all like he just locked her in the car with a giant.

"Hey, stop that! Hey!" Magnolia puts up a solid fight against this whole big boy trying to get her taser. She actually kicks out her foot once or twice, trying to get him away. She might even throw an elbow before he has her in a tight embrace. Her heart is pounding, her pale cheeks flushed. She narrows her eyes at him, before she snarls under her breath, "You have no fucking clue how much you're going to regret keeping your hands on me." She doesn't Glimmer though. Not yet. She keeps that on hold.

Then at the question, the blonde narrows her eyes. "Missing person's case. His landlord found his apartment ransacked. I got called in to look for him. Apparently his family likes to commit suicide, and I wanted to stop that from happening again." It's all mostly true, too!

More like he's just scratching his back than collecting his gun, Graham shifts and comments, "Tell us how much we're gonna regret it, sweetheart. You keep leaving all these threats unfinished." He does that cool thing that movie-gangsters do, where they check to be sure their gun is loaded, eyes on the weapon for a second before he lifts a beam once more to Magnolia. "I'm really interested in what exactly you think you're gonna do to us." He goes back to chin-propping, only now his chin is in his left hand and his pistol is in his right hand, trained on Magnolia.

But he quiets down to let her tell her story, brow climbing. "I'm gonna shoot you in the foot in a minute, just so you know. Or else you can tell us everything you know." Beat. "Not gonna lie, kinda thinking I might enjoy the foot-shooting."

"You two are both solid morons if you think I'm not getting paid to find this guy," Magnolia says in a casual, throw-away tone. "So unless you are going to start offering me a better hourly rate and bigger retainer, pretty sure that I don't have anything else to give you." But then... her jaw tightens as she looks at Graham. Her eyes narrow and her chin sinks down slightly.

"What the fuck are you two looking for? This gotta do with that stupid plot of land his family owns? Or any of that shit he dropped off at the thrift store?" Magnolia flashes a look at Graham and Andre, and then Graham gets the brunt of her focus. "I don't even know what the fuck you guys want. You tore apart his apartment, so if you didn't find what you were looking for, he must have already gotten rid of it, right?"

You know what sounds REALLY REALLY LOUD in a car with all the doors closed and the windows rolled up? A gunshot. On the count of three, everyone say tinnitus! BANG!

Seeing as Graham flat-out told her that he was going to shoot her in the foot, it stands to reason that Magnolia moves her foot out of the way, and Graham just buries a bullet somewhere in the frame of the car. "Guess I need a bigger target," he complains (loudly cuz his ears are ringing). He leans far over the center console, touching the (now warm) end of the gun to the center of Magnolia's forehead.

When Andre so politely apologizes for what's about to happen to Magnolia's foot, the blonde actually looks bemused. She glances at him, prepared to give some kind of witty response before her attention snaps back to Graham to trying to shoot at her foot; she wrenches her feet out of the way with a short little scream. Her ears are ringing, and her breath is tighter and sharper, and she darts a look up to Graham just as he sets the pistol's muzzle against her forehead. She stills, mouth closing around her breath to hold keep her from possibly hyperventilating. Her nostrils flare, and she takes three good slower inhales. She says this again, slower and calmer this time, "I don't know what you're looking for. There was this ammo box that got dropped off at a pawnshop, but I don't know if it's still there anymore. It had some decorative box in it. That's it. I don't know where it is now." That's the truth. Byron didn't tell her where it was, if it was moved.

Opening his mouth and rubbing his ear with his off-hand, Graham really fights the ringing in his brains, squinting hard and shaking his head to try and clear the sound. He says a few things about his silencer into the ringing, then shuts up to let Magnolia say what she says there, just leaving the barrel of the gun against her forehead till she gets to the end of that statement. "Why do people always gotta make this harder than it has to be?" he asks of Andre - who can't hear him, on account of the earplugs.

But he must be satisfied, since he draws the pistol back, reclining back into his seat comfortably again, the gun laying harmlessly in his hand across his lap. "We good?!" <-- Loud because, again, Andre is wearing earplugs.

Magnolia is about to say something smart-- it's right there, at the end of her tongue-- but then she's being pushed out of the car with her seatbelt unfastened and the car door swinging open. She holds tight to her bag as she's shoved out onto the ground, and she hits it solidly with a hard thump. She takes in a sharp breath only for it to be caught in her lungs, and she coughs out hard, wheezing exhales. She looks at the still-opened door, and she narrows her eyes at the two. She's smart; she doesn't say anything.

"I'M NOT!!!" Graham could just drive off casually, but - instead - he guns the engine and makes the back-tires spin, kicking up just all kinds of dust and dirt and a few little rocks, too. They go sailing everywhere, and then the car peeeeeeeeels out and onto the road properly, does a sharp u-turn, and heads back to town.