11 May, 2012
Oh, stakeouts, how he loathed thee. Tristan was never a policeman, but he was a soldier, and the night watch was just as bad as a cop staking out locations or marks to ensure safety or ensure that their target wouldn't suspect them or take off running. He sat in his favorite booth which had a good view of the door, a decent view of the personnel coming in and out of the back room. The vantage point also gave him a clear shot at the office door, where his sister or her manager on duty would head up and down the stairs to work on the ledger or grab change for the tills whenever they found the time. Dressed in his trademark cobalt blue, Tristan hid behind the thick black frames of his reading glasses, ones he wore mostly for show than to improve his sight, since his vision wasn't too bad. He was on his second scotch on the rocks right now, taking a sip here and there, with his big, blue-green eyes peeking at all corners to make sure he hadn't missed anything important.
Nope. Nothing yet.
Tristan hadn't spotted Kara tonight, which was fine because he brought his homework with him. He wasn't worried it'd be spotted because he had a charmed document to set over it, and today's muggle newspaper to set on top of that, to disguise it if someone got too close or too nosy into his affairs.
As he flipped through the file that was granted to him by King on their last outing, Tristan kept staring at the copies of the paperwork taken on Liam O'Donnell. The owner of this humble establishment, the brother-in-law he didn't know he had until recently, and murderer? Something wasn't adding up. Nevertheless, it made him a prime target for work with their operation, depending on how quickly he could get out of Azkaban. If he could get out of there, that is. With charges like this, Tristan figured it'd take a wrecking ball and one hell of an army to get him out of the cage. If and when that happened, though...
Tristan sighed and took another drink. It was gonna be a long night.