Jack
Grateful that enough time had passed that the reporters seem to have entirely forgotten about him, Alcuin was out in Kin, running some errands after a visit to his attorney. (He had begun, finally, to think of the man as his attorney now rather than Anafiel's.)
He'd been spending some time as well working with Agent Hotchner, providing him with a list of names and information about those who might have had grudges against Anafiel. Which was one reason why he was so distressed to see one of them now, walking towards him.
Anthony Petrovich, the accountant that Alcuin had spoken to Hannibal Lecter about recently, strode down the sidewalk towards him. Alcuin froze as he considered just bolting, but there was really nowhere to go, and he didn't want to draw attention to himself.
"So sorry to hear about your loss," Petrovich said, standing very much in Alcuin's personal space. He did not sound sorry at all.
Alcuin didn't answer him, and he only moved closer, finally putting a hand on Alcuin's arm. "I hope that doesn't mean you've retired." The grip tightened.
Alcuin yanked his arm away so hard that he stumbled backwards and nearly fell.
He'd been spending some time as well working with Agent Hotchner, providing him with a list of names and information about those who might have had grudges against Anafiel. Which was one reason why he was so distressed to see one of them now, walking towards him.
Anthony Petrovich, the accountant that Alcuin had spoken to Hannibal Lecter about recently, strode down the sidewalk towards him. Alcuin froze as he considered just bolting, but there was really nowhere to go, and he didn't want to draw attention to himself.
"So sorry to hear about your loss," Petrovich said, standing very much in Alcuin's personal space. He did not sound sorry at all.
Alcuin didn't answer him, and he only moved closer, finally putting a hand on Alcuin's arm. "I hope that doesn't mean you've retired." The grip tightened.
Alcuin yanked his arm away so hard that he stumbled backwards and nearly fell.