Working the closing shifts behind the bar was really ideal for my case so I certainly didn't mind the idea of Frances and Alan abandoning me so I could work on my 'interrogation' of Jesse. While he and his friends might pop in from time to time during their lunch hour, of if they happened to finish a job early, it was the evenings and weekends when they seemed to take up permanent residence at their table beside the fireplace.

It had surprised me quite how trusting Frances and Alan had been with me, leaving me alone to oversee their precious business. It was either desperation – after months with no luck in finding some help to cover the long hours their job demanded – or Frances had some sixth sense about how much I really needed that job and a place to stay; enough to know that I wouldn't do something to jeopardise our tense relationship – like rob them blind. My money was on the latter, the way I'd seen Frances stare at me was unnerving. She knew far more than she let on.

That first night Frances and Alan had left me with the promise that he would be back down to cash up once I'd called 'Time', as long as I didn't mind the clean up duties. It wasn't really a question, and I knew I didn't actually have a choice in the matter, but I'd nodded agreeably. The new set of customers that had wandered into the bar at that moment had brightened my mood considerably and I was keen to get some real work done.

But time ticked on and, though I was in the same room as my target, the opportunity to speak to him never actually arose. Jesse never came up to the bar, one of his friends seemed to be the designated drinks purchaser for the night. I could see them all tossing him their money and encouraging him up from the table to buy yet another round; all amid ever increasing jeers and guffaws. This guy hadn't been a member of their party the previous day and it appeared he had drawn the short straw for the night.

It was frustrating. I served my way through customer after customer; the bar never seemed to have a quiet moment which prevented me stepping around the other side even for a moment. I could have easily used the ruse of collecting glasses to listen in to their conversations, maybe even introduce myself to the lads at the table and get the ball rolling; but I never got the chance to do even that.

I called for last orders and dished out the final rush of drinks, as everyone crowded the bar for their last chance to take one more step into drunkenness. Alan appeared at the door just as I set the final pint down on the bar and rang the bell to call Time.

“How'd everything go?” he asked me with a warm and inviting smile on his lips.

“Yeah, okay. Busy, Frances wasn't kidding when she said Friday's were usually the most hectic nights.”

Alan was almost a polar opposite of his wife's character. He was friendly and personable, always had a smile on his face. They were like chalk and cheese, it was a little weird, but it obviously worked as they'd been married for long enough and seemingly happy. I'd tried not to sound too exasperated as I replied to him, didn't want him thinking that I couldn't cope with the job – that was far from the real reason for my frustration after all.

While Alan cashed up the till he gave me some basic instructions on how he liked to close up the pub, all the little tasks he would do before turning in that would now be my responsibility. It was all pretty basic stuff; empty the pot wash; sweep out the ashtrays; stack the chairs on the tables so the cleaner could vacuum the following morning; empty drip trays and so on. Nothing that I hadn't done before and I soon tuned out his voice as he went on explaining routines and techniques for the simplest of tasks – especially when the one person I'd been dying to speak to all night finally approached the bar, his arms overloaded with empty pint glasses.

He was literally carrying an armful of glasses – how we had not run out at the rate they'd been drinking without returning glasses I'll never know – and I was amazed at how far he managed to get across the room before they started to slip from his grasp.

“Shit!” Jesse exclaimed, stumbling more hurriedly towards the bar where he spilled a cascade of glasses and dregs of lager on its surface.

They all toppled and rolled across the polished dark wood. Jesse grabbed at them, trying to stop them from dropping over the edge and smashing on the slate tile floor, but a few slipped through his fingers.

It was an automatic reaction. My hand shot out, a blur of movement, and I plucked the glass out of thin air, setting it back down on the bar, while the other hand steadied some of the others as they rolled towards the edge. I'd moved quickly, maybe a little too quickly, but it was a small enough movement, a tiny slip of character, and I'd hoped no one had thought it anything out of the ordinary.

“Nice reactions!” Jesse exclaimed as the glasses finally settled and he began the task of turning them all upright again.

A slightly nervous smile crept to my lips. Maybe he hadn't thought anything odd about it, but he certainly had noticed. I really didn't need any attention being drawn to my slightly less than human qualities.

A small exclaim of laughter slipped through my lips as I shrugged at Jesse's words. “Uh, yeah, well...you work behind enough bars and after a while you learn how to catch. Cleaning up broken glass gets old really quick.”

He laughed softly at my response. “Well, thanks for the help. And sorry too, should be more careful. Too many drinks and my judgement goes all to pot.”

“You're just lucky Frances has already gone upstairs or you know you'd be in trouble.”

That time his laughter was loud and barking. “True enough. Must be my lucky night, you starting work here so she couldn't see my mishap. Doesn't do well to upset the landlady. I'm Jesse, by the way. Me and the boys are usually in here most nights for a swift couple after work so I'm sure we'll be getting to know each other.”

Jesse leaned in closer over the bar, the glasses tinkling against each other as his body shifted them forward. He moved in close enough until I could smell the alcohol on his breath as he spoke. “And, honestly, I'm not usually this clumsy. Think I've been at too much of the beer, just don't tell the lads I admitted that or I'll lose all my credibility with them.”

“Don't worry, your secret is safe with me...Jesse right?” I asked and he nodded – like I didn't already know the answer. “I'm Heather, it's nice to meet you. And I'm sure I will enjoy getting to know you and the rest of your friends. But right now, I'm afraid, I'm going to have to kick you all out so I can close up before it's me that's getting in trouble. On my first night no less.”

“Oh shit, sorry. I completely forgot what the time was. Yeah, right, closing time, sure. Okay, well, it was nice to meet you Heather and I'm sure I'll see you tomorrow. Be in for a little hair of the dog.” Jesse grinned showing me a row of bright white teeth as he back away from the bar and rejoined his friends.

There was an outburst of noise and taunting as Jesse reached the table where all of his mates were making a slow and reluctant show of getting ready to leave. They gave him some stick about 'chatting up the new barmaid' and I had to suppress a chuckle. If that was really an attempt at flirting I had to wonder just how successful he had ever been with it...and more importantly was it something he made a habit of? Could it be an angle I could manipulate to lead to his corruption?

Couldn't help but feel that I was grasping at straws a little in the hopes of learning something more useful. While the evening had not been a total loss, I had officially become a recognised part of Jesse's life, I had also gleaned very little from our short conversation – beyond knowing that when drunk he was clumsy and made bad judgement calls. He also seemed to be very friendly and talkative, and curiously endearing.

I could feel the human part of me stirring whilst in his presence. He was approachable and quietly funny, he would make a good companion, a good friend, for her, and that was something that could never happen. I was going to have to work quickly to figure this case out before she started to get restless again and tried clawing back some of the control I'd regained. I'd grown much closer to both Alex and Rosa during my last case, things like that never happened, and I certainly didn't need to suddenly be latching on to the target of my current case. The last thing that I needed was a power struggle raging inside of me when I had a job to get done.

* * *

The weekend passed, following much the same routine that Friday had created for me. I worked from six till closing both Saturday and Sunday, whilst Frances and Alan disappeared off upstairs; watching each other like a couple of hormone charged teenagers – I for one was grateful for the old building's thick walls.

It felt as if I'd settled into a system that was comfortable, and such an automatic position from which I could learn more information about Jesse and how to complete my case with few distractions. The only thing that I was missing, however, was Jesse himself.

Since that Friday evening when he'd left with his mates, somewhat worse for wear as I pushed them all out of the door, I hadn't seen hide nor hair of Jesse. When Tuesday rolled around and he'd still not shown his face, despite the repeated presence of his friends, I grew desperate.

Frances had me working a split shift, covering the lunch rush and then coming back later that night to work until closing. A duo of Jesse's builder friends strolled in through the door around midday and ordered food rather than beer – which had been somewhat of a surprise, but apparently they were working nearby and still had to get back to the site, beer would have been a bad idea. I also noted that they were now not one but two faces short of their previous number.

So, when the blonde – who over the weekend I'd learned was called Nick – came to the bar with their orders I nodded to their rather subdued gathering and just had to question it.

“Seem to be missing a few faces these last few days. What happened, someone scare the rest of your mates off?”

“Nah.” Nick shook his head as he fished his wallet out of his dusty jeans. “Dan's only allowed out once in a blue moon, so this weekend was a kinda rare occurrence. And Jesse, well, he had some bad news, or something, from his family. He packed up pretty quick and shot up there to see them.”

“Oh, no...no, that's...awful,” I stammered, “I hope it's nothing too serious.”

I hoped the words sounded genuinely sympathetic because inside I was seething. Hearing those words fall from Nick's mouth was about the worst possible news I could have been given. I found my mark a hell of a lot quicker than I'd been first anticipating, but straight after I manage to actually meet him he ups and leaves, with no real way for me to possibly follow him.

The one week mark was already looming so closely on the horizon. This case could not take me longer than Shane had, Lucifer had made that quite clear, but what the fuck was I supposed to do? There was no way I could get a corruption done if my target was nowhere to be found.

Trying my hardest not to let my true feelings show all over my face, I handed Nick his change and one of those wooden spoons with his table number painted on it – not that we had any other orders for food – and I hoped that he would elaborate some more on Jesse's situation.

Nick shrugged as he dumped the coins I'd handed him into his pocket. “Yeah, he didn't really say a lot, just sent me a message that his mum was sick, or something, and that he had to go see her. Not heard from him since.”

“You think he'll be away for long?”

The frown that creased Nick's brow was my first indicator that I was starting to be far too inquisitive for a barmaid they'd only just me, asking too many questions can get you into trouble but unfortunately, in most cases, it was the only way to get things done. I didn't want to have to resort to pulling information out of his head, it was never a pretty process plus I wasn't even sure he knew anything that would actually help me.

“I don't know. He won't want to miss too much work, needs the money and that, but...well, family's more important, right.”

“Yeah, of course,” I replied, forcing a smile as I slid two tall glasses of orange juice across the bar. “Well, I hope he gets back soon, seem kind of quiet in here without all of you together,” I said, hoping my words were dismissive and detached enough.

“Your food shouldn't be long,” I added as an afterthought. Remember the job you're supposed to be acting, Frances won't be happy if she thinks you're slipping.

“Thanks.” Nick grabbed the drinks and rejoined Jimmy at their table.

So now what on earth was I supposed to do? Beyond waiting I didn't have many options, and damn did I hate waiting.