WHO Marcella Bellini, The Sheriff WHEN Sunday afternoon WHERE the Sheriff's quarters WHAT picking up a trophy WARNINGS tba
Marcella sighed heavily as she walked up the steps to Malcolm's apartment. If John had told her that getting there would require walking up three flights of stairs, she might have considered refusing to go. Of course, she wouldn't have, but she'd have been a little more sullen about it.
She didn't see why this package, whatever it was, couldn't have been shipped, but these rich men and their quirks. She supposed this one was the Sheriff. The only sheriff she could remember was the fat wolf from the Disney Robin Hood, and Alan Rickman, so she supposed he'd be along the same lines at Gisborne in terms of demeanour. Although, Gisborne had been ready to flip on John given the opportunity, and this guy was giving hand-delivered gifts? Maybe more of a toady.
She paused a moment on the doorstep to get her breath back, and straighten up her clothes. She was in usual work attire- plaid miniskirt, stockings, black pumps, a blazer that was only slightly shorter than her skirt, hair out, a dark plum lip. She wore her usual expression of bored aloofness as she pressed the doorbell and waited.