SEQUENTIAL ━ Connor // RK800 ✔️

twenty-one ━ in too deep

"Then, goodness," the woman suspended her disbelief with a shake of her head. Who was she to judge a miracle? It had been some quiet months since the opening of the gallery and Mia was the first art collector remotely interested in emotionless paintings bound to remind the viewer of an empty void. Mia's stomach disagreed with scamming this poor gallerist, but she stood her ground, witnessing as the disbelief was quickly replaced with joy. "Let me get the documents so we can sign on this right away."

"Do you think I can check out the paintings in the art studio while the document are getting printed?" She didn't miss her chance to set the stage for some alone, quiet time in the place where she reckoned Rory had spent most of his days. "I'm a bit undecided between some of them."

"Of course," the gallerist was quick to smile her way. "Feel free to look around. I'll get the everything printed out for you and bring them over. How many paintings are you looking to acquire exactly?"

Fast thinking was yet another area where she couldn't hold a candle to Connor. While she was aware she had to choose a number sufficiently large to give her enough time in the room where the murder had happened, but not quite large enough that it would be unbelievable for someone looking like her to have the money to procure so many paintings, her mind disregarded any reasoning for the sake of the panic surrounding the fact that if she hesitated too long, her cover might be blown anyhow.

"Ten," she blurted out without much of a thought at all. Ten sounds like a safe number, Mia had almost convinced herself until she watched the shock take over the gallerist's expression. Bewilderment was only a nudge away from suspicion, so once again, rash decision making made Mia add as quickly as possible, "I have quite the large house, but I am also thinking of gifting my in-laws two of the paintings."

Large house, her own mind mocked her choice of words, making her chuckle a little stiff. Nonetheless, with half her face hidden, that awkward laugh seemed sufficient to temporarily sell the story.

Or at least, she hoped that it did.

Whether the woman actually went to print the documents or she was actually going to call the cops on her, that was out of Mia's hands now. She tried not to think too much of just how likely it was that she'd end up behind bars before the day was over, instead focusing her energy on returning to the art studio and taking a more proper look around.

Optical scanners make this unfairly easy for Connor, she caught herself thinking back at him when all her eyes managed to do was overwhelm her with just how much shit there was in there for her to look at. Where do I begin? Mia asked herself, trying and failing to find the most efficient approach to this attempt at an investigation, growing more ridiculous by the second.

All her indecisiveness was doing was take precious seconds away from her, so though she hated admitting defeat, Mia abandoned her tries at being methodical for the sake of actually doing something other than stand around. In her rush to get to the little lounging area in the corner of the art studio where she had spotted a stack of magazines on the very edge of the dirty coffee desk, she knocked over the leg of an easel, stumbling forward with it.

While she had the presence to catch the canvas and the easel itself from falling over the shelves of art supplies, every single brush and paint tube that had been stored on the margin of the easel dropped to the ground.

What were you thinking? Mia's mind, her eternal worst critic, returned to scold her for the mess she's walked herself into. With her knees dropping to the ground and her hands trembling while she tried to gather everything her own clumsiness had scattered on the floor, her thoughts got louder. Did you really think you can find Rory on your own? You can't do anything on your own, but create mistakes for others to fix.