The later that afternoon...
"You know..." Mathieu's voice resonated off the cushioned walls of the car; seated at the back as he leaned against the closed door, staring at the illuminating screen of his laptop.
"... When you told me you had a good plan to handle Drogo Vetter—" he paused his speech to thrust in a straw between his lips, drawing out a long sip before sighing, "— I didn't actually think you meant stalking him."
Mathieu resumed scrolling through his laptop, his legs stretched out to rest over the seats.
"Hmph!" Karen tutted in the driver's seat, leaning forward with her grasp on the pair of binoculars she spied through.
Mathieu took another sip from his juice box. "I mean, I get he's hot and all. But isn't trailing him on the first day a bit too mu—"
"Shut it! I'm trying to concentrate!"
She strained against the stirring wheel to continue observing the afar distance.
On the neatly mowed lawn of the modern wood house stood two canopies, sheltering long tables laden with treats and delicacies where the light crowds mingled around.
The joyous air was filled with light laughter and indiscreet chatter within the mixed population of all ages, emanating warmth and welcome amongst the children and adults.
Standing under one of the canopies was none other than Drogo Vetter.
Dressed in a basic attire of grey turtle neck and trousers, the white apron strapped around his narrow waist to fit his toned statue as his attention shifted between the serving spoon in his hand to the queue of people before him.
He smiled, stretching out to serve the plate of food to the young teenager in the front of the line as she smiled before walking away.
Drogo bowed to the elder man that stepped forward for his turn. Maintaining the cheerful smile on his lips and the warmth his charm, he continued to serve the various types of people.
Karen's brows furrowed deeper against the ocular lens she watched through.
"He's still feeding his party guests?" Mathieu's voiced from the backseat, his feet now crossed and rested against the passenger seat.
"It's not a party. He is just feeding a bunch of homeless people."
"Homeless?" He turned in her direction. "How do you know they're homeless?"
"It's beyond obvious," she lowered the binoculars, scrunching her face into a frown. "Their appearance alone reeks of roofless poverty."
"Hm... I see," He turned back to his laptop to begin tapping on keys. "What is it with religious types and their savior complexes?"
"Maybe they want to feel like the God they worship'."
"Sad..."
Letting a few moments of silence passed while occupied with their opposite views, she then questioned. "Haven't you gotten anything yet?"
"Nope."
Gazing over her shoulder to eye his figure, Karen's brows knitted. "What do you mean by, No?"
He looked up, "I mean, no." He shrugged. "There is not a single information about him on the internet. From google account, social media and even images of the community clinic website."
"How is that possible? In this era and country in particular, everyone and everything is on the internet."
Supporting his temple by his fingers, he sighed, "Well, apparently not him. I couldn't even get a LinkedIn account nor a single image of him from the community church website."
"Has Eddie responded?"
"Same thing. He couldn't find a trace of him anywhere on the web, despite his expertise and dark web conn—"
The bitter tut from Karen's lips interrupted his words as she turned back to look at Drogo house across them. "You and Eddie have always been useless when needed."
"Of course... It's our fault..." His voice laced with mirth, letting out a sigh as he looked back to the screen. "At least my efforts serve better than stalking him from across the street like some fan girl."
It took the last drop of rationality in her mind to prevent her from retorting to his statement as she raised the lens to look through once more.
She had to keep her focus on more important matters at the moment.
Her eyes narrowed at the distant being of Drogo Vetter, who now carried on serving refreshments and treats to the members of the crowd seated on mats and benches.
"He's a suspicious one. That, I am sure of."
"Because spying on someone at their self sponsored charity event isn't suspicious at all," Mathieu shot back, not looking up from his screen.
"Jab at me one more time and I will make sure that laptop of yours fits into somewhere you never thought possible."
He scuffed.
"Besides..." Karen started, "Who wears a turtleneck in this heat? That alone screams guilty."
"Who knows? Maybe he likes covering up..."
She shook her head, "I don't believe that. He was wearing a turtleneck as well when I first met him at his office. It's clearly no coincidence."
Mathieu exhaled a weary sigh, his eyes rolling in exhaustion. "So, what's the theory now? That our church-going hot boy is leading a double life? Tattoos hiding beneath that pious facade, using the Lord's house as a convenient cover for his true, nefarious pursuits?"
"How poetic. But Yes!"
"It's too early in this novel to get that far in the plot." He carefully stretched his aching neck. "Let's just focus on getting him to believe you're a decent human being to employ without a police report."
A hiss drew from her lips. "Can't you make yourself useful without opening your damn mouth."
He tutted.
She then added, "We only have one week until the suspected Conference date, and unfortunately, none of us even have a hint of the venue."
Mathieu slender fingers continued to strike the various keys in heightened speed before pausing to scroll through another lump of unless information that had to value to his search.
"It's obvious that 'church' Conference is nothing close to holy if they are being this secretive." Mathieu stated, his eyes skimming through the paragraph.
"According to their sponsoring organization's website, the Children's Spiritual Formation and Wellbeing Conference is a week-long event that occurs every three years. It's focused on equipping leaders to support children's spiritual growth and wellbeing. "Keynote speakers, workshops... blah blah mindfulness and trauma-informed care."
"Are you seriously reading the brochure to me?"
He shrugged, "Hey, you asked for updates. Let me work in peace." He resumed without same, "... The conference concludes with a Child Sponsorship Initiative, where children from diverse backgrounds will be paired with adult sponsors from organizations and firms, providing support and guidance throughout their childhood."
Karen listened with pursed lips.
"Aside from that, nothing more regarding the previous venues. Only more pictures of the children in schools and churches, smiling in the bliss of achieving of spiritual abundance and closure to God." He read out in a flat tone.
"The fact our client's orders involves that convention, to begin with, is obviously not everything is as 'spiritual' as they claim." She continued to watched through her binoculars.
Mathieu took a moment to type and scroll through his laptop. An exasperated sigh left his lips.
"Did you just final realise the true value of your own worthless?..." The words spat out passively, even though she was observing.
"Instead of whining about my 'worthless efforts,' why don't you come up with a plan yourself?" Mathieu ran his hand through his hair, his sigh carrying more weight than words could.
"And what's that supposed to mean!?" She snapped her eyes at him.
"Well I don't know! Why don't you throw on a skirt and attend his church? Show him you're not the arrogant brat he already thinks you are." The last statement came out as mumble before opening his laptop once more to reluctantly scroll through.
Karen tapped her fingers against the steering wheel, her brows knitting in thought. Then, a slow grin spread across her face. "You know... that's not actually a bad idea."
"Huh?" Mathieu brows slowly knitted to the realization of those words before looking back at her.
Her lips curled into a smirk, the gleam in her eyes making Mathieu instantly regret his suggestion.
"Oh no..."
Karen immediately turned forward to start the car. "We're going to church!"
Karen gripped the wheel with a grin and slammed her foot on the gas, leaving Mathieu clutching his seat — Karen floored the gas pedal, taking a sharp turn away from Vetter's residence with a screech of tires.
Meanwhile, standing amongst the seated population of satisfied guests that fed their served plate, Drogo offered the last dish before bowing to return to the canopy table.
Setting down the aluminum tray, Drogo exhaled softly with his lips still tugged in the light smile he carried ever since. His hand slid into his pack pocket, pulling out his phone to bring to his view.
His fingers gently tapped the phone screen, causing his lips slowly dropped to a straight line as the screen illuminated an image.
"Eddie Carlson." He read the name displayed underneath the captured image of a man who seemed unaware to camera point.
Drogo carefully pushed up his glasses, returning his phone into his pocket as he mumbled to himself. "It's been a while since someone searched for me on the dark web," he murmured, his gaze lingering on the screen for a moment.
"Mr Vetter!"
Drogo turned in the direction of the childlike voice, wiping the shadow of a frown from his face, he replaced it with his usual, disarming smile.
The five year old boy jogged up to him through the light crowd, stretching out to grasp the fabric of his trouser.
"Come play with us, Mr Vetter." The little boy shone a wide smile despite his missing teeth.
Drogo brows raised slightly before loosening his expression to a more genuine smile; his large hand fell gently on the toddler's head, ruffling slightly, his black strands.
Drogo knelt, his warm smile returning as he ruffled the boy's hair. "Of course, George. Lead the way."
Yet, as he stood, his eyes flicked to the canopy's edge, scanning the street for a moment too long before following the child.