Chapter 1: A Proposition

Three Months Earlier...

Brunette strands of hair whipped across her face as Courtney made her way down the street towards her home. It was a frigid afternoon, and the wind had picked up rather quickly, sending shivers down the girl's spine. The thin cardigan and capris she wore did little good in fending off the cold, and presently she wished she had thought to bring a coat along to school. Maybe her current predicament might not have seemed so dreary as it did if she were but a little warmer. Shaking her head to rid it of the pestering thoughts, she once again focused her attention on the road in front of her, increasing her pace. The sooner she got home, the sooner she would be out of this horrid weather.

It seemed unusual to her that she would be going home at this hour. She normally would go to the library after school to get started on her assignments. Then, at perhaps six o' clock or so, she would decide she had done enough for the day and leave the building reluctantly. Sometimes Bridgette invited her to come over to her house to study together and the two would go long into the evening, working on essays and projects or just gossiping for hours on end. But wherever she went after school, it was rarely ever to her own home. Yet here she was, at only half past three, heading straight there.

She probably would have gone to the library for the umpteen occasion that week if not for the call she had received, mere minutes ago, from her mother. Apparently, her father wished to speak with her about something to do with his job. "V-very urgent business, darling. He wants you home as s-soon as possible." This was an oddity in itself; her father was never at home until at least eleven at night. What was still stranger was how her mother's normally composed tone shook and her words stumbled over one another in a rush to leave her mouth. When Courtney asked what was to be discussed, her unease showed still more clearly. With an abrupt answer that her father would explain it all in due time, the woman had hung up, leaving her daughter to hopelessly dwell on the upcoming conversation.

Maybe her father was finally allowing her to intern at his company, Mann & Jacobs, just like she had always hoped. In the past she had begged and begged, but he had firmly shot down the possibility. "Too young", he'd said, even though she was a senior in high school and would turn eighteen in less than a month. He still thought she would screw up and stain his reputation because of her own immaturity. The answer had perpetually been a harsh "no", but perhaps his mind had changed?

Courtney sighed. No, that was highly unlikely; only wishful thinking. Her lifelong goal was to become a lawyer, just like her father, and though he encouraged her, he did little to help her achieve such goal- for example, letting her help out at his business. She was on her own, because "if you can't make it on your own, you can't make it at all." She had to prove to him that she was actually good enough to pull it off, or else he would likely disown her.

Pulling out of the depressing thoughts, Courtney instead let her mind drift to the events of the morning. It being a Wednesday, she had started in her fourth period classroom for the first two hours of the school day. It had been a nightmare, to put it lightly. Fourth period was her Spanish 5 AP class, and while she excelled academically in the class, she absolutely detested the people in it. For one thing, Alejandro kept trying to flirt with her even though she continually rejected his repeated advances. She knew he didn't actually like her, and that's what she hated about him- he was just a player. Then there was Sierra. She was nice enough, Courtney supposed, but annoyingly perky and talkative. Today she had been going on and on about how she had managed to steal a lock of Cody's (her crush/obsession) hair during Anatomy the day before. Weird, right? And the rest of the class was simply rude and ignorant, snickering whenever she answered a question correctly, calling her a teacher's pet both behind her back and not. But she didn't care what they thought. Not one teensy bit.

Then in her fifth period, Anatomy & Physiology, she had been dissecting a pig's heart when a classmate purposely shoved her, causing her to stab into the organ. It spewed blood everywhere, including on her white cardigan. Which, she realized currently, she was still wearing. Looking down at the garment, she shuddered at the spattering of red spots across the midriff.

Calculus BC might have been her only decently pleasant class. It was simply a normal, boring sixth block, learning about derivatives and other concepts she'd never need to know as an adult. She did get to chat with Bridgette for a while nearing the end, luckily. Then after bidding Bridgette farewell, she sprinted up to her locker to grab her materials and books before calling it a day and leaving the grounds. That was when her mother had called.

Courtney noticed that she had been so engrossed in her thoughts that she had already nearly arrived to her home. Right up the street, she could already see it: tall, stately walls of an impeccable white, a great iron gate for an entrance, green bushes trimmed into clean-cut shapes. She didn't particularly like the look of her home; it appeared formal and unwelcoming, even to her. But it was to her mother's taste, and what her mother said went.

The gates seemed to open at once as she reached the mansion, only creaking the slightest bit. Courtney automatically grew nervous; they had been waiting for her the whole time. Whatever they wanted to talk about must have been very important.

Tentatively taking a step forward onto the property, Courtney attempted to peer in the large glass windows to get a glimpse of her parents, wherever they were. The uneasy feeling she had only heightened when she realized all the curtains had been pulled. She walked faster towards the towering, ominous oak door leading into her home. Again, just as she reached it, it swung backward, this time revealing her mother. The tan woman appeared even more nervous than she had seemed on the phone; anxiety swum in the depths of her emerald eyes and her shoulder-length black hair was unkempt and messy, far from its usual orderliness. Relief overtook her expression when she saw Courtney had indeed come as she was meant to. Without uttering a word, she quickly grasped her daughter's arm and dragged her inside with unusual force, nearly causing her to topple over.

They soon came upon the large living quarters, where her father, an impressive man with dark irises and brown locks, sat in a chair impatiently tapping his shoes on the hardwood. He still donned his business suit. His head was already turned in their direction, his eyes trained on Courtney. He made a simple gesture for her to sit on the futon across from him, which she automatically did. He examined her for a moment as she fought hard not to fidget in her seat under the scrutiny. Then, looking down to a pile of papers laid in front of him, he cleared his throat abruptly, making both Courtney and her mother jump.

"Good afternoon, Courtney," he greeted formally. "I hope the day finds you well." The sentiment, though nice enough in its meaning, lacked any real warmth to it. It sounded more as if he were speaking to a client rather than his own daughter.

Courtney had grown quite accustomed to his mannerisms over the years and developed her own kind of distant attitude toward her father. "Hello father. I am doing fine, thank you."

It didn't seem to matter to him how she was doing, but he still replied, "Good, good. I am well myself, if you were wondering."

There was an awkward silence. They both knew she hadn't been.

"But, I did not want to simply make idle small talk. I would not have summoned you for something as trivial as that. No, there is something much more important that has occurred, concerning my work...and perhaps even yours in the future." Courtney grew apprehensive; maybe he was finally giving her the opportunity that she had so long hoped for?

If so, he wasn't being very obvious about it. His expression gave no hints. "As you already know, my company deals with only the most prestigious cases, and, as a result, only the most prestigious clients," here he stalled, "I suppose you have heard of the jeweler, Francois Bastien? Owner of the chain store Gems of Bordeaux?"

Courtney nodded slightly. It was a well-known name, though she wore none of his accessories herself. She also knew how Bastien was one of her father's especially prized patrons, and inferred that this conversation must have to do with him and not with her possible internship. Her spirits deflated.

"Well, early this morning, I had the pleasure of Monsieur Bastien contacting me with some unpleasant news." A sigh, as the papers in his hands were shuffled around a bit. "The Gems of Bordeaux Palo Alto location has been looted, costing an estimate of $300,000 in property damage and inventory loss. It seems it occurred two days prior to now, on Monday afternoon. The man was reportedly armed with multiple switchblades and a pistol; he did not use them idly. Injuries include at least six minor wounds, both bullet and blade, and two people in critical condition. Apparently, they didn't take him seriously when he threatened them with his firearm." Her father grimaced, and for once she couldn't blame him. "The criminal, fortunately for us, did not attempt to hide his identity, openly showing his face in the store. He is quite renowned, having been involved in crime since the age of," he checked some files sitting on the coffee table, "thirteen. His name: Duncan Evans."

Courtney's blood ran cold. She had heard the name before; he had gone to her high school the year before. She recalled that he had mysteriously dropped out a couple months prior to graduation. Her nerves were beginning to get the better of her. "What does this have to do with me, father?"

Mr. Mann looked up at her for the first time since the start of the discussion. Annoyance flashed in his eyes. "If you let me speak," he spat, "then I will be able to tell you." He continued, "Anyway, as I was saying, Evans has cost Monsieur Bastien a considerable amount of money, and my client wants to track him down. Which seems absolutely useless; the police have been searching for him for months on end for some previous crime. But, he is offering a large sum to me if I can find him. A very large sum I might add. Which, of course, I want. And this is where you are involved."

Holy crap. "You are going to be the one to find him for me, my dear."

Courtney didn't know how to respond, so she deemed incredulity an appropriate option. "You want me to attempt to capture a dangerous criminal, by myself, just so that you can make money off of it?"

Her father gave her a cold smile, ignoring her astonishment. His shoulders raised in a shrug. "I simply do not have the time or patience to do it myself. And I'll be damned if I waste money on some incompetent detective. No, you are by far my best bet."

The girl might have felt a swell of pride had she not been in such shock. Continuing to gape at the man, she could feel herself nearly hyperventilating at what lay before her. She tried to slow her breathing rate, though it proved to be futile.

For one of the first times in her life, Courtney imagined she saw sympathy in her father's expression. "I'll tell you what," he bargained, "If you are successful in catching our suspect, then I will grant you an internship at the company."

Elation took the place of disbelief immediately. "Really? You mean it?!" she practically squealed.

Her father nodded as he became stoic once more. "Yes. But only if you do manage to get him." Courtney held back a happy squeak, even when doubt shone clear in his voice. Suddenly a stack of files and papers was dropped into her lap and she marveled at the weight of it. "These are his files. Start looking now. The sooner you find him, the better for all of us."With that said, he stood and straightened his suit. "And this is where I take my leave." The man promptly turned and stalked straight out of the front door, probably heading back to work.

The girl was still so giddy she didn't notice her mother kneeling next to her. A slender hand rested on her shoulder, Courtney jumped, startled, and stared into her mother's concerned face. She smiled even brighter, exclaiming, "Mother, isn't this great? Father might finally let me apprentice with him!"

The other woman shook her head seriously. "Honey, I want you to be careful. What your father desires you to do is not safe. This boy is very dangerous. Just because he is young doesn't mean taking him on is any less of a risk."

Her daughter rolled her eyes. "I'll be fine, mother."

"Well, either way, I need you to be careful. Do not take any unnecessary gambles."

"I won't. Promise." Courtney stood to give her mother a hug. After picking up the files, she skipped cheerfully to her bedroom.

It was amazing how the prospect of dealing with a menacing felon didn't seem anywhere near as dim when her reward in he end was so promising.

A/N:

I'm back, and relatively fast! This story is now officially a multi-chapter fic! I really enjoyed writing this one, and I hope you guys enjoyed reading it just as much. R&R.

-Scraps