What've you got for me, Q?

If you recall, I had a meeting today, one I'm pretty nervous about. Following the clues given out to me by DJ, I got into contact with a woman calling herself Miss Informant. The passing of information could go either way with a name like that, but I take my chances. She says she knows about what I do and that she can help. Help with what? Is there trouble I don't know about? do. I forewent practice today just to be an hour early to the meeting spot. It's a little coffee place, one that I know, so at least all the exits are available and stuff. Wow, I don't know how to do the secret spy thing very well, but I'm working on it.

The first thing I notice when she comes in is that she looks like every other person in the world. I don't know what I was expecting, but it wasn't this pleasant middle-aged woman standing in front of me asking if my seat is open. She knows it's me by the flower stuck under my black hat. I know it's her by the green pen poking out of her front pocket. We think we're clever, but I'm guessing we also both read the nervousness all over each other's faces. At least she keeps up a little more profressionalism than I do.

The second thing I notice is the over six foot monster-built of a guy lurking around the booth nearby. I mean, could he be anymore obivous? Don't be fooled, gentle reader, my scoffing only covers up my anxiety about the matter. It's pretty clear after a few minutes that he's watching us and I can barely concentrate on the information Miss Informat is giving me.

She says she's got a place, one where I can practice without incidents like last week where I was almost found out. She sounds like she knows what she's talking about, and I want to believe it. I'm going to have to visit this place before the Wednesday we've set up to see what I can see. I can be that prepared, at least.

I ask her why she's doing this, how she found me-- can she do something do? But right then, our shadowy listener makes a big deal out of some spilled coffee and breaks a couple of glasses all over the floor. I turn to help the poor stuttering waitress and when I look back Miss Informat has vanished.

I can't help but think the big guy did it on purpose, and that this meeting is already tainted. I get out of there as fast as I can without looking suspicious. It's time to find the DJ again, and figure out why he led me to Miss Informat in the first place.