Connor opened the front door and found a stranger standing there. A man in his early forties, wearing a white shirt and jeans, with a thick folder under his arm. Damn, he was sure it would be one of the lads, why didn't he check before opening the door? Now he'd be stuck with the smiling stranger, who would try to convince him that his life depended on buying whatever he was selling. Maybe he was really lucky and the man was selling a piece of heaven, and wouldn't let him go until he quoted by heart half the Bible, to prove he wasn't a lost sinner in need of salvation. He really needed to learn his mom's way to smash the door closed on these men's faces. He just didn't have the heart to do it.
"Yes...?" he ventured.
"You must be Connor," the man said. "I'm here to see your mother, Regan Gillian. My name is Roy Cassidy, with the FBI. I believe Russell Coleman told her about me."
Connor excelled in self-control not to gawk and stutter and stagger all together. What the hell was Russell's boss doing at their door, out of the blue, only a couple of hours after lunch!?
"Yes, he did... Err... Wait a minute, please."
Dammit! Close the door? Leave it ajar? Leave it open? Whatever! Connor pushed it and the thing decided to go all the way back to the frame and get closed. He didn't notice. He was already sprinting upstairs, calling Gillian out.
She woke up with a jolt hearing him so upset, and needed a good minute to understand what he tried to tell her. First of all he was alright, no limbs missing, no blood, no guts hanging out. Good. There was no smoke, so the house wasn't on fire. He wasn't in any kind of physical pain, or seizure, neither on drugs. Great. Had he just said Russell? What was wrong with Russell?
"It's his boss! He's downstairs! He's here! At the door! Asking about you!"
"Who!?"
"Russell's boss!"
For a second Gillian wondered if she was still asleep and dreaming, but she knew she wasn't. So she reacted.
"Okay, go and invite him in. To the living room. Tell'im I'll be right down. Make coffee. And Connor..." The boy halted by the door. She smiled. "Breathe, son. It's alright."
Connor automatically breathed deep, nodded, and then he was launched down the stairs.
Gillian got up, hearing him go to the front door and do as she'd said. She rummaged her closet for something decent, ironed, sober, fed-like to wear. And then she paused. She scowled at the pretty tailored black trousers she had in her hand, and she just dropped them on the rug.
Not five minutes later she came down the stairs in jeans and tennis, a black tank top showing beneath her flannel, her hair hardly collected with the first hairband she'd found, not a hint of makeup on her pale face.
Roy Cassidy stood up when she came into the living room, and flashed a soft, glad smile to shake her hand.
"Please." She pointed to the couch. "Can I offer you anything? I'm having a coffee."
"Then make them two."
"I'll be right back," she said, and fled to the kitchen, where Connor was setting their best tray with their best cups, cookies and sugar.
She signaled at him to take it easy. "The black mugs will do, son. Don't worry."
"You sure?"
"Yes." She was damn sure.
Cassidy studied the room, the furniture, the decorations, as to get a better picture of the people living there. He heard her come back and stood up again, proper as an English gentleman visiting for tea.
Gillian brought the mugs with one hand and the cookies with the other, no tray, no special treatments. He'd shown up by surprise, so he shouldn't expect a royal welcome.
She sat down opposite him, across the coffee table, and waited for him to try his coffee. He did and nodded with a little smile. Then she started head-on.
"I wasn't expecting you."
"I know, that's why I came," he replied, smiling wider. "If you talked to Coleman, you know why I'm here."
Okay, no beating around the bush? Great. She nodded.
"So? Are you interested in joining the Bureau?"
Hello, aggressive selling. I'm a lady. Be gentle, you thug. "I still haven't discussed it with my team. I'm sure you know they also resigned, because of me, so it's not only myself I speak for. I cannot give you an answer before consulting with them."
"I'm glad you still haven't told them about this. That's why I came without notice. I want you to know what you can offer them when you guys discuss about joining us."