Size 13 foot tapping out the rhythm Agent Lefleur counted the seconds before the door was answered. It was something to do, and should there be a question later it meant he would know how much time an individual had to tidy things up before answering the door.

At 97 seconds the door swung open at a metered pace, “Agent Lefleur, to what do I owe the pleasure?” And he managed to say it with a straight face, a charming face even.

Shifting a bit, Agent Lefleur brought his shoulders square to the door occupying the whole of the space, “I was in the neighborhood.”

Cole laughed lightly, “Agent, really? Not a soul is ever just in my neighborhood,” then leaned in closely as if it was an inside joke, “Sort of why I bought the place.” Lefleur bristled. Was this guy taunting him?

Before he could press the issue however, the sound of tires on a gravel driveway cut through the muggy night. Headlights washed over Lefleur’s back, not even touching Cole in his shadow, as a car was hastily parked.