Chapter 5. You do know my tastes, Hunter

Upon their arrival in Los Angeles, Clarice was greeted by the warm California sun. The sprawling cityscape stretched out before her, a bustling metropolis that seemed worlds away from the cobblestone streets of Barcelona. She exited the airport and made her way to a sleek black SUV waiting for her.

Clarice breathed in the salty sea air as a man in a black shirt loaded their luggage into the trunk. Her jaw clenched with determination, her eyes scanning their surroundings with a sharpness that made her heart race.

"Are you ready for this?" Hunter asked. He walked over to Clarice after getting the car keys from the man in the black shirt.

She nodded, feeling a surge of excitement mixed with apprehension. “I didn't know that I was missing my hometown.”

Hunter gave a smile before opening the passenger door, signaling Clarice to get in the car and head to their next destination.

This was it, the beginning of her mission in this new city, a mission fueled by a desire for revenge and justice. As the car pulled away from the curb, Clarice knew that their journey was just beginning.

The drive through the city was a blur of palm trees swaying in the breeze, the distant sound of waves crashing against the shore. Clarice's knuckles turned white as she gripped the edge of her seat, trying to push away the memories that threatened to flood her mind.

Hunter stole glances at her, concern etched on his face. "You okay, Señorita?" he asked, his voice sounded worried.

"I'm fine," she replied, but the tone that came out of her mouth was not as expected, sounding so defensive.

Hunter glanced at her again, his eyes filled with a mix of admiration and worry. “Okay,” he said simply. He knew the pain she carried, the burden she bore silently as they navigated the bustling streets of Los Angeles. And as usual, he would just feign ignorance and keep quiet. Clarice wouldn't like it if he tried to get too far inside her. "We're almost there.”

Clarice's eyes gazed up at a grand hotel building. She silently praised Hunter's choice for their temporary residence - perhaps for the next month or two.

Clarice's heels tapped on the hotel's front lawn, where two men greeted them. It didn't take much code for one of them to get the luggage out of the car.

Clarice's confidence was fully restored as her steps echoed through the hotel lobby, as if all movement had been silenced and it was just Clarice and Hunter trailing behind her.

As she neared the reception desk, Hunter picked up the pace. He preceded Clarice to retrieve the key to their rooms.

"This way, Miss." A man guided their way to the rooms Hunter had booked a day ago.

The rooms were luxurious, with a view of the city skyline glittering in the distance. Clarice's eyes swept over every detail, taking in the plush furnishings and elegant decor with a sense of detachment.

Hunter watched her closely, noticing the way her shoulders tensed slightly as they entered the room.

"Is everything to your liking, Señorita?” he asked, his voice gentle.

"You do know my tastes, Hunter."

Hunter smiled smugly, almost to the point of arrogance. "My room is next door. If there's nothing else you need, I'll let you rest."

Clarice nodded, her eyes gleaming with determination. When the door to her room was closed, she knew what needed to be done, and she wouldn't rest until justice was served.

She took a deep breath and walked to the window, looking out at the city below. The sun was beginning to set, casting a warm glow over the skyscrapers. Clarice could feel the weight of her mission pressing down on her, but she refused to let it crush her spirit.

***

A knock on the door made Clarice take her eyes off the vanity mirror. "Come in!" she called, knowing full well that Hunter would have the keypass to her room, as always, as one of his security systems.

Who wouldn't be proud if you had a secretary who could also double as your personal bodyguard?

The door swung open, revealing Hunter standing there in a more formal suit than usual. His gaze fell on Clarice, seeing her firm stance and unwavering determination.

"Señorita, ready to meet your father?"

Clarice met Hunter's gaze in the mirror, her own reflection a mask of composure. She nodded once. “Let's surprise him with our appearance,” Clarice replied, her voice is mischievous despite the storm of emotions swirling within her.

This is the beginning of Clarice's mission. She must meet her father to find out all the information about Jane as a teenager. Any files related to Jane, her father must have them.

Hunter held the door open for her, a silent gesture of support as they made their way through the corridor and ended up in the same car they had driven to the hotel.

She felt a sense of certainty and strength as they walked through the crowded streets of Los Angeles to the address she had learned as she learned to walk.

The house where she once lived, which holds all the memories of her (fairly) happy childhood.

With a determined look in her eyes, Clarice stepped out of the car, she took a deep breath as they approached the familiar house. The memories flooded back, both painful and bittersweet. She could almost hear the echoes of laughter and feel the warmth of Jane's presence.

However, a man suddenly stopped her in her tracks.

Clarice frowned, silently scanning his appearance; probably close to 40 years old, shaved-headed, as tall as Hunter but with a heavier build, a classic suit that concealed a communication device wired to his ear. She made a gesture beside her body, restraining Hunter who was about to act.

“I'm sorry, Miss. Mr. Wright does not wish to receive guests at this time.”

**

100524, Anne Joyce