It is at the post office where Pierre Reaux bumps into Faun
He looks almost comically awkward when all his papers go flying, so, taking pity, Faun runs to help him and when she gathers his papers he begrudgingly smiles. He wears a black hat. Somewhat fedora you might say, but on him it becomes another article entirely.
Awkwardly he says,
“we might ‘ave got off to a bad start, Mam—mad—rrr—Mizzz—“
“Just Faun is fine,” she coolly asserts the papers under his coat covered armpit like a friendly jab, “there you are, all sorted.”
She starts to step away but he follows her,
“excuse me—Mzz—Faun, madamme— I just wondered if I may talk to you for just one moment of your time?”
Faun pauses just a step to look at him but then continues to the yellow Volvo anyway,
“Is there something you want, Monsieur Reaux?”
“Well….as you know my jurisdiction is only as far as the Canadian border—“
“Yet we find you here so frequently,” Faun stopped to smile now
“Yes well…. You ‘ave the Sam’s Club and the Walmart….” he scratches his jaw thoughtfully as he tries to seem casual
“You come here to shop at Walmart?” she looks at how he is dressed. Three piece suit and that trench coat was far from Columbo
He is inspecting his nails as he smiles looking back up at her,
“not me, Mz Faun—but most of ze characters I must investigate do tend to frequent such places.”
He says all this with his heavy French Canadian accent whilst twisting his mustache absently
“So how can I help you today?” she asks now
“You are still running ze bookshop for ze Bishops?”
She waits a moment to reply. She looks at his expression to read him.
“I am. The chief of police over there could have told you whatever you’d like to know,” she watches his face.
“Have you remained in contact wiz Monsieur Grant?”
Faun had sensed this must be about him somehow
“Why do you ask?”
“Because it seems he may need your help.”
