“I’m FBI Agent Elizabeth Hayes.” Max stood one aisle down from the speaker, but his ears perked up at the sound of the word “Agent.” The FBI had been hunting him now for three years now, and still didn’t have a description, just a vague inkling of his targets and methods. He really had to start switching up his weapons selection and stop picking the best spots to assassinate the high rollers from. The smaller targets were much easier, but he’d gotten lazy, using his sniper skills more than once for those with higher security. Unfortunately, he couldn’t change his main clientele on principle, but he’d have to decline the more expensive jobs for a while. “Could I take a look at your security cameras?” He heard her say, “I’m looking for a man who might have bought some clear plastic sheeting from you a week ago.” Shit. How had she figured out it was clear plastic sheeting he was using to keep his crime scene cleaning quick?
The owner said something noncommittal about his security cameras not saving data past 24 hours, and that he sold quite a lot of clear plastic sheeting. Thankfully, he’d bought that plastic sheeting more than a week ago, along with all his other regular art supplies. He didn’t usually dispose of his plastic sheeting right away either, precisely because he didn’t want to raise any eyebrows. Instead, he cleaned it thoroughly of weapons residue and used it to protect his apartment from paint and sculpture shards until he could dispose of it easily. He’d have to go home and make sure his plastic sheeting was up to date and his art projects were suitably far along.
Still, precautions aside, he was very curious about this “FBI Agent Elizabeth Hayes” who’d gone to such lengths to find him that she’d even picked up on his cleaning method. He made a round around the aisle, looking at the paint selection as if not paying attention to what was in front of him, and slammed into the woman in question. “Oh, my apologies.” He said, bouncing back, his heavy basket swinging backwards. “Are you alright?”
He looked up to see a slender, pretty brunette with freckles dotting her face. The minute he laid eyes on her, though, a harsh grin quite unlike him spread across his face. He knew her. Not by face, no, that had changed life to life, but his soul knew hers. She had, after all, killed him. Over and over again. “Oh my. Leliel. It’s been a while.” In a way, he’d sort of missed the one constant in his multiple lives. And here she was, an FBI Agent. The Lord’s sense of humor always got to him just a little. “I missed you.” He said, eyes sparkling, as though speaking to an old, old friend.