Santi: The Devil's Pioneer

Chapter 49 - Kennedy Johnson

As Emily sat in the passenger seat of Emman's automobile, Kenny, Emily's father, inquired, "So, what happened with all of my cars? I've only been locked up for a year." After leaving the prison grounds, they'd go straight to their apartment on Main Street, which had been left empty because she had paid off the whole mortgage and the bank no longer owned it. She'd be able to pack a suitcase and be ready to go anywhere she needed to go in order to capture his wife. "They're still locked up," Emman continued, "but we could only acquire one for you, so the Audi will be waiting at your house," Kenny replied with a smile. Her eyes were her giveaway, frequently shifting their gaze from Emman's face to the notepad peeping out of his suit jacket's pocket.

If she could keep him distracted she might be able to take it from him, to sneak it inside and read it. She needed to know what he did, for no other reason than the pure compulsion to do so. I guess you did listen during those two years. She replied, shuffling in the seat. It was a sports car, although it had been beyond modified by M16 that she was unsure what the actual model was

"Making your profile was a part of my job, Emily." He told her, using her last name for a reason she didn't know nor cared to know.

"Do you flirt with every girl like that? She questioned, wondering how she could get close enough to him git the notebook without having to seduce him There weren't many situations where she could get away with it so she decided she would wait until a more opportune moment to grab it.

He didn't respond to her antics, not too much different from when he had infiltrated her life. It was the little things that she noticed were different.

He didn't smile as often, he wasn't as receptive as he had been, he was a lot less talkative...

Kennedy Johnson always found it ironic that the prison they placed her in was less than half an hour away from her actual house, it meant that the drive there was rather fast I filled with very little conversation. pulled into the driveway her two-story home came into view. It was modern, the garden was overgrown and the house itself was dirty. She'd have to hire a maintenance staff to clean up the mess.

Her Audi R8 was parked in the driveway, as it should have been, even if it was going to stay there. She was not going to use the automobile on the field because it was her most valued property and would most certainly be damaged. Esmond came to a halt next to Audi and handed her the keys to her home.

"Would you want to come in? Sit on the couch? Have a cup of tea?" Kenny said as she left the vehicle with her protective gear and reached for the door handle.

"I'm going to be in the car until about half an hour, so I'll leave the front door unlocked; feel free to come in at any time; you remember where the kettle is."

She told him, a smile on her face as she hopped out of the car and walked to her front door. Unlocking it seemed to take an age, but as she saw the inside of the house for the first time in a year, it hit her like a tidal wave. Her home was covered in a layer of dust. Honestly, what was the point of hiring cleaners if they didn't clean the place? She had paid the company enough to keep the place clean while she was in prison as soon as she had the feeling that she was going to be incarcerated, the garden she didn't care about but she sneezed.

Having dust allergies meant that the cleanliness inside was a completely different story.

The first thing she did was turn on the lights, then locate her phone, which was still sitting on the kitchen bench, take it in her hand and switch it on, waiting for it to start up as she went in search of a tiny bag to pack some clothing for whatever was about to happen. Mr. Brightside, the phone fairly quickly linked with the built-in speakers all throughout the entire house, and she knew just what she wanted to hear.

On a loop.

She started the kettle, fetched two cups from the cabinet, and wanted to bring the package of tea out while the music built up to the pace. She assumed Esmond would become it at some point out of boredom. She proceeded up the stairs to her room to fetch a suitcase and prepare for this journey after drinking a cup for herself.