Hallway Antics And Hidden Scarves

“Now that your mom is occupied, let's have some fun.”   Where'd those kittens go?”  Tinkletoes asks Dobby taking a step away from the door.

There is a Whoosh and then another Whoosh is heard.  Tinkletoes suddenly feels more weight on top of his combat boots.  He looks down to see two pairs of eyes looking up at him expectantly.   The eyes are wide and radiate intense, unbridled energy.  “They have a quick response time.  That's good.   Now it's time to teach them how to follow orders.”  Tinkletoes says smiling.

“Good luck with that.”  Dobby says.

Spots watches Tinkletoes, then Dobby, then Tinkletoes throughout the exchange.  The kitten's pupils dilate and his body tenses.  Spots jumps, hugging Tinkletoes around his leg and climbs.  The kitten doesn't stop climbing until he is perched on Tinkletoes' shoulder and surveying all that he deems his.

  Tinkletoes turns and looking at Spots the self-proclaimed mercenary says, “Don't do that again.”  Taking Tinkletoes' words as an invitation Smudge does the exact same thing on the opposite side.  Conditions are right and a game of tag between the kittens ensues.  Spots slapping at Smudge only to miss and hit the top of Tinkletoes' head Smudge retaliating and smacking the human on the nose.

“How long are they gonna do this?”  Tinkletoes asks.

“They're kittens.  Short attention spans.”   Dobby says.  “Wait for it.  Three, two, one...”

  Smudge runs down Tinkletoes' left side taking off into the living room Spots following closely down the right.

  “Dudes, where did you go?   I've been looking all over for you two.”  Ray's voice can be heard from the room next door.  “Salt pumps you two up.  Now let's see what happens if I give you sugar.”* Something breaks.  “Dudes chill out.  There's plenty of Marshmallow Fruit Bits for all of us.   You guys like milk, don't you?”

  “Was that something breaking?  I thought I heard something breaking.”   Writer Lady's voice calls from the other side of High Command's door.

  “Everything is fine.”  Tinkletoes says.  “Go back to your writing.”

                                     The Teller Cont'd

   “No Armand there are not.  No crystal ball either.  I was trained that those are all embellishments.  Dressings, put out to fulfill an expectation that many have of tellers.  If a client's mind is full of expectations they cannot truly hear what they are being told.”

  “Really?”

  “It is the philosophy I was raised with.  If it is that way for all tellers that I cannot say but with my bloodline it is.”

  “This home doesn't look like the surroundings of such a young woman either.” Armand said.  “How old are you, twenty-two?”  He asked.

  “I am twenty-eight.  This is a family home.  I did not decorate it.”   She answered calmly studying Armand.  He had dark hair and eyes.   Although he was of average height and build many would have thought twice before walking down a dark alley with him.

  “Armand.  You called me Armand earlier.   How did you know my name?”  He asked.  She was a pretty woman of average height with coppery hair and amber eyes that competed for his attention.  Armand found himself having trouble finding his words.  Twenty- eight.   It was hard for Armand to see the young woman as twenty-eight.   There was something different about her.  Something more grounded than the other twenty-somethings he knew.  Was she one of those old souls?  Was that what they were called?

  “Once again...”   Cecily pointed out patiently.

  “I came to a teller and asked her how she knew things.”   Armand said finishing her thought.

  “Sit down.  I'll bring you some tea.”

  “That would be nice but unfortunately there's no time.”   Armand said.

  “There is always time sir.”

  “There isn't.  I came to see you tonight...this is about my wife, Olivia, she's laying in a hospital bed in a coma and no one knows how it happened.  My sister-in-law found her laying on the floor in our home nearly beaten to death.   We have no idea who would want to hurt her or why.  A lady who cleans at the hospital heard about Olivia, she saw my distress, and said you could help.”  Armand said as he worked his hand, a wrinkled piece of cloth clenched in it.

 Cecily could see the brightly colored fabric as it peeked out between his fingers.

“I brought this.  The cleaning lady said to bring something of Olivia's.  She was wearing this when my sister-in-law found her.”

  “What about the police?”  Cecily asked.

  “They are investigating.  They think I went out for something to eat.”

  “Instead you came here.” Cecily said. “What about the scarf?”

  “My sister-in-law picked it up and put it in her purse during all of the excitement and found it in her purse later.   She said that she forgot she had it.”

  “You didn't give it to the police?”  Cecily asked.

  “I needed something to bring to you.   I couldn't give it to them.  Not yet.”  Armand explained.

  Cecily looked at Armand closely and wondered if her previous assessment had not revealed enough about her visitor.  She turned and left the room, returning with a bag.  “Put the scarf in the bag.”  She said.  “When you return to the hospital give the scarf to the police.   Tell them the story of how you gained possession of it. Say that you put the scarf into your pocket and forgot about it, while you were at dinner you reached into your pocket to get your cell phone and found it there that was when you realized you had forgotten to give it to them.  The moment you found the scarf you asked your waitress for a bag and put it in there.  Make sure the police know the names of everyone you know of that has touched this scarf.”

  “You aren't going to touch it?”  He asked.

  “No, the scarf is evidence.”

  “But I need your help.”  Armand said.  “I have to know what happened to my wife.”

 “We will find the answer you seek in good time.  I have other ways of...getting to the truth.  Tell me Armand, how much time do the police expect you to be gone?”

  “An hour.”

  “The hospital is two blocks away.   You have been here about ten minutes.  We still have time.”  Cecily said as a smile crossed her lips.   “Tea?”  She asked.

*Never feed your cat sugar or salt.