Blurred Lines.

it's the highway to hell, jason

I went down an alley and quickly changed into the Red Hood attire and then I was off like a speeding bullet. I knew where the Fray was. It's a popular hang out for criminals. I also knew that there was a certain group of mercenaries that hung out there and made it their so called 'club house'.

I arrived after him. I knew he was inside cause I seen his larger than life sports car parked outside of the building. Even though it was still daylight outside, the place seemed to give off an even brighter glow. I set up shop across the road behind some bushes that were just off the road.

We were in the more run down part of Gotham. There wasn't a lot of the huge buildings and street lights to give away my position, just a bunch of abandoned buildings and hedges that needed a good trim.

I took out my binoculars and tried to find him in the crowd. Just as I had suspected, he was no where to be found. If he was calling the shots now, he wasn't just going to parade around outside with the commoners. No, he was going to sit in an office that had no windows. Because windows give access to a sniper. And when you're in the crime business, someone is always trying to kill you.

But I caught a break. I found him sitting at one of the tables with another man. They seemed to be around the same age. Parsley was plump with beety eyes, but this guy was muscular. He could easy put Parsley out of his misery, but he seemed content with the way things were going.

I couldn't make out the conversation that was going on inside. Whatever it was, wasn't too pleasing to Brown, because his face was red and a vein bulged in his head. Someone away from the table said something to him, because he lifted his head and his hands and took a deep breath. His face returning to a the natural shade. I found that funny. Old man was going to give himself a heart attack.

Brown and the man sat and talked quite a while. The conversation was still tense, I could tell. But it went a lot smoother. Brown's face didn't turn the lobster red it had when I first started watching him, which was good. I didn't need him killing over from a heart attack or stroke before I got to question him about his daughter.

According to documents, Brown never even spoke of his first daughter. He didn't say anything about the girl. But he did have a smaller kid now. The couple had a little boy about ten years old. He was a typical kid. He went to school. He played sports. He had plenty of friends. But not once did he mention his sister either. It was like they refused to speak of her. At least, that's what Bruce had said.

Night had started to fall now. The brightness of the sun started to fade and Parsley stood up extending his hand to the other man. They shook and Parsley walked out of the door. When he opened the main door, I could hear laughter coming from inside. They were all happy and celebrating. Perhaps, Parsley got the ten grand that he had asked for after all.

As he was climbing into his car, he took another hard glance around and pulled out his phone. He lit a cigarette again.

"It's me." He said in a low whisper. I made several moves to get closer to him. He turned his head to me. I stopped quick and held my breath. I didn't think he could see me. The bushes were too high, but I didn't want to take that chance.

When you're doing wrong, then you tend to be paranoid and even the slightest movements can set someone off. He turned his head back to the door of the Fray.

"Yeah, we got the job. But that's not what I called about." He was trying to remain calm, but I could heave the emotion in his voice.

"Did you find Agatha?" He said. I became still listening in. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. He is literally telling me what I want to know right now. I listened closely to the conversation.

"This is bad. Really bad. If anyone finds out that she's not dead. If they find out.." He begins, but is cut off. He inhales a puff of the cigarette and throws the thing down. It's still a whole cigarette. But he doesn't climb into the car like I suspected he would. Instead, he listened to the other end of the phone.

He didn't seem convinced or reassured. He looked like he was going to pass out. He needed to find Agatha to keep some secrets secret. I knew that I had to protect her at all cost.

"No, don't kill her if you find her. I just have to figure out where to put her. She's just .. not well." He said the last part as if he was just trying to be nice. Not well? Being locked in a factory for three years makes someone not well.

He sat silent for a few more seconds. His eyes started to wonder again. He kept glancing my way and that made me nervous.

"No. I don't think she'd come back here. Whoever blew the place and took her has to know who she is by now. They have to know who we are. If we don't find her soon, then I need you to get rid of any evidence of her life after the accident." He was tired, I knew that much. He was tired of talking about it and he was tired of trying to find her.

He wanted to just be done with this. Well, that made two of us brother. I wanted to be done with this as well. I thought about going to him. I thought about just asking him about Agatha, but I thought watching the family for a while would be a little more effective.

"Yeah, okay. When we cross that bridge, we'll handle it. But for now, keep searching the area. That hooded guy couldn't have got far. And if she's already .. " He stopped took a deep breath. "Well, if she's shown who she is, then she's already out on the street." He said in a low tone now. As if he knew that I was just across the street listening. But he couldn't have known that because I was hidden. I was away from them.

"I'll call you tomorrow." He said finally before hanging up the phone again. He held it in his hands for a moment and bowed his head. I don't know if he was praying or if he was just stressed, but he looked like a defeated man. He looked like someone who was about to lose everything that he had worked his life for.

I needed more answers. I needed to know what Agatha was really like. The urge to call Jett to check in became so strong that I fumbled for my phone as I watched Brown climb into his much too small car and speed off.

I didn't get to make that phone call though, because Bruce text me.

"Alfred's up." And I didn't think twice. I jumped on my own bike and sped back to the mansion. I didn't even bother changing into my regular clothes. I just wanted to speak with Alfred.