Petrichor

Watching Every Move

December 6th, 04:38 PM.
As Conan pressed the doorbell, the third quarter of the 'Westminster Chime" began. The playful notes bouncing into his ear as Miss Fenton answered the door.

Conan flashed his badge, he thought it was cool, "Hello, I'm Detective Richards with the DPD. I'm here to ask you some questions if you don't mind?" He made sure to fix his tone as to not scare her. He had a tendency to sound stoic and monotone when he talked.

Clara Fenton quietly nodded, opening up the door some more to let him in.

"Would you like something to drink? A coffee perhaps?" She asked, her voice was small.

"No, thank you." Conan scanned her, she wasn't making eye contact with him and she was itching to turn around.

> Sweaty Palms
> Avoiding Eye Contact
> Heart Rate: 129 BPM

He didn't need to scan anymore to know she's acting suspicious.

"How have you been as of late? I understand how hard it could be to lose a child—"

"He is not dead." The gentleness from her voice was completely gone.

Conan's bio components shivered, "Im very sorry, ma'am. Of course, we are all hoping that's the case." He watched for any reaction.

The mother stood deathly still as her eyes flickered over to a corner in her dining room.

Immediately, the detective scanned for any radio or camera signals.
He spotted at least four in just the living room alone.

They're being watched.

Without breaking eye contact with her, he stood.
"About that coffee, its been a tough day and all the good coffee shops downtown are closed due to the snow that's been piling up. Would you mind making some for me?" He smiled.

Confused but compliant, Clara nodded and walked towards the kitchen.
Conan followed close by, preparing himself for the risky move he was about to pull.

As Clara went to reach for the coffee on the top shelf, he jumped into action.

"Oh, I'll get that for you!" He smiled generously.

Conan watched on the camera feed as he covered her figure and blinded the camera of his next moves.

As he reached for the bag with one arm, he lifted the other to his chest, making sure only she could see it.
His hand quickly revealed itself white and projected, "Im aware. Meet at Food Outlet, 6PM."

He made sure she read it all before he quickly retreated his hand. The mother's face flickered between fear and something else he couldn't read.
Her home phone rang all of a sudden, making him fumble with the coffee bag and spilling it all on the floor.

"Oh god, I'm very sorry Miss Fenton," he quickly apologized, haphazardly taking out his wallet and placing a twenty dollar bill in her hand, holding it a second longer. "I hope this will cover it." He looked at her earnestly, then casually glanced at the window.
"I must get going, if I don't I'll have to dig my car out!" He jokingly said.

"If anything happens, you know our number. Let us know of anything, do I make myself clear, Clara?" He stated at her with intense eyes, knowing his face was out of view.
Stunned, she silently nodded, clutching the bill to her chest.

"Good night, Miss Fenton." He concluded and left out the door, making sure to hurriedly get in his car.

> Ending Call to: Fenton Household

As his car drove away from the neighborhood, he let his masking protocol vanish. His thirium pump couldn't keep up with his regulator, the pools in his eyes had already started to overflow, and his artificial mind was too obstreperous for him to keep calm.