Gaipui, 8 Mia 81383, 11:00 Faida looked around the hotel room one last time and re-checked her pack, making sure she hadn’t forgotten anything. Today was a day of mystery and Faida was eager to solve it. She was going to see Caiohme Kaie. She had already spoken to Oran about it. In fact, he had escorted her to the Teleportation Unit earlier this morning. He seemed tired as usual, but the wariness was not due to his lack of faith in her. She could only imagine that his wary manner was due to their late meeting at the police station the night before. Still, it was rare when Oran trusted anyone but himself. Of course, that’s not to say he thought the Watani Police Department was incompetent, but he preferred doing things his own way. Now, he had to bend to this inexperienced thill in hopes that she could find something the WPD hadn’t originally. Honestly, she was surprised Oran didn’t accompany her to Bhim, but with him still healing from his injuries she supposed it was best that he hadn’t. She was also fairly certain he was a figure known worldwide now and perhaps the Black Market wasn’t a place where someone of such importance should be wandering into. Slipping on her shoes – though it was more like jamming her feet into them – Faida did a quick third check around the room and opened the door. She walked down the hall, her walk brisk and anxious. She was hoping she would find Caiomhe at work, but she had Caiomhe’s home address too, just in case, stored on the PDA Oran had lent to her. She hadn’t misplaced it once since the forensic detective entrusted it to her. Needless to say, she felt quite proud. Although a brilliant mind herself, she had a tendency to misplace things, if she wasn’t careful… Coming out onto the sidewalk, Faida put on her sunglasses, despite the gloominess of the day. She wanted to salvage what little eyesight she had left as her eyes were still quite tender from the night before. Heading in the direction of the jewellery shop in which Kaie worked, Faida attempted her best to blend into the dark atmosphere that was the Black Market. She had memorized the route to get to the shop as she knew it wasn’t wise to look like a tourist in such a place. Thankfully, the walk wasn’t very long – a half hour tops. The jewellery shop was only about seven blocks from the hotel she was staying at, which was located in a rather skittish part of the Black Market. Although most would consider it much wiser to find some unit of transportation – a cab, for example – to take one where he needed to go in such a place, Faida had to admit she was both curious and fascinated by the people who roamed the streets of the Black Market. She had never seen such lifestyles before. But she also chose to walk because she needed time to think. She really had to sort her thoughts and calm herself, so she wouldn’t start stuttering in the middle of the interview or, Fromina forbid, before the interview even started. The walk was a nice one, all in all – well, as nice as walk could be in such an area. The winter air was chilly, but she was dressed warmly enough. The muffler about her neck and face kept her from feeling as cold as she would have been without one. The streets were fairly crowded as always, from what Faida understood. Still, they seemed more so because of the hour. It was lunch time after all and there seemed to be some decent restaurants and sandwich shops down these streets. Faida had to slip, slither, and dodge her way through the crowd and many seemed to be doing the same. She was careful to keep a hand on her bag though as she was sure some of those dodgers were pick-pockets and thieves. After twenty minutes of dodging crowds and doing her best to ditch a couple of untrustworthy characters that had taken an interest in her, Faida found herself standing at the door of the jewellery store. It was a quaint place, but definitely one that saw decent business. It also seemed extremely out of place. It looked too innocent and clean to be found in the Black Market. Faida opened the door, a small jingling sound coming from the bell hanging from the doorframe, and walked in. The thill behind the main, glass-case display smiled brightly at Faida and greeted her. Faida smiled in return and nodded. Coming out from the cramped-looking space from behind the glass, the saleswoman looked at Faida happily but curiously (obviously, Faida didn’t look like the common jewellery buyer that this shop often saw) and asked the common, cliché question: “Can I help you?” “Yes, my name is Faida Mehrdad,” Faida began, removing her sunglasses. “I’m looking for Ms. Caiomhe Kaie.” She pulled out the warrant and an ID badge Oran had made for her. “I’m from the Watani Police Department and I need to ask her just a couple of questions, if you don’t mind.” The saleswoman’s expression shifted slightly, displaying surprise more than anything else. But Faida assumed it was because not many Watani police officials (or any police officials, for that matter) ever came to such an area. Surely, the saleswoman thought Faida was quite out of place. “All right,” she answered uncertainly. “Right this way, Ms. Mehrdad.” “Thank you.” The walk was brief as the saleswoman only had to lead Faida to the little door near the back. Behind it sat the jewellers that repaired and crafted the sparkling treasures that were displayed in the front room. The saleswoman pointed Caiomhe out, though it was rather hard to miss the creature, honestly. Her coat was a striking silvery hue and it stood out amongst the pelts of her fellow workers, despite how bright some of them were. Her coat shimmered like the moonlight – quite stunning, surely, in comparison to her former tawny pelt. Faida walked up to the thill’s little work space. She thought it strange that Caiomhe didn’t turn upon her approach. Very strange, indeed… “Excuse me, Ms. Kaie?”
Caiomhe pulled the gold closer to her nose, peering down the length of her rather short, soft muzzle; her dark pinky nose virtually pressed against the chilly metal surface as she carefully scrutinized her handiwork. A thumb brushed over the tiny grooves to dislodge some fragments and with a finger flicked the particles into the workshops air. It was a fine piece, but, although finished, it wasn't her best. The silvery young Thill set the plate to one side, atop other finished item - commissioned pieces. That day she'd seen a number of very specific orders come in (some for birthdays, some not). Her modus operandi was – odd. Where a jeweller tended to pick up and finish a piece, Caiomhe would begin and finish several. Diversity is what kept her skills up. It also meant she was able to turn items around in greater bulk. Different jobs required different approaches, so she rarely developed strains and pains in her joints. “Work smart, not hard”. It was then the tinkle of the shop floor bell went. Another customer? Another order? One of her colleagues across the table from her – whom she affectionately nicknamed “'kesto” - peered up from behind his stylish glasses past Caiomhe, until her glassy eyes met his and they were returned to his own rush job. A muffled discussion turned oddly quiet; her employer was usually quite bubbly about customers, but what had caught Caiomhe's attention was how silent things went. Something wasn't right. In the pit of her stomach, she knew the customer wasn't there to buy, but nonetheless hoped she was wrong. With a tiny, sharp blade, the silvery Thill carefully scraped glass to create a frosted effect to finish surrounding text. Again she pressed her piece of art against her nose. “Excuse me, Ms. Kaie?” “Caiomhe, please. This isn't, like, somethin' normal is it?” She glanced towards her employer (who'd taken a shadowy back-seat behind Faida) then back to Thill Mehrdad. Putting her paws together, Caiomhe rubbed them past one another swiftly to shake metallic particles from her soft fur, then rolled the sleeves of her casual, lightweight waistcoat down from her elbows, and poked her middle fingers through the empty button holes, curling the flimsy cuffs into her palms in loose fists.
Faida studied Caiohme for a moment. She had to be honest: she was a little surprised to find Kaie at work. How could one bounce back so quickly when her arden’sla was just murdered? She studied the silvery thill more intently now, her suspicions already rising. Faida noticed Kaie’s eyes then. The thill was as poorly sighted as Faida was, if not worse. That wasn’t going to make things easy. Surely, though, in order to be a jeweller Kaie had to have some sight. Although Faida could hardly expect a detailed description, the jeweller must have seen something (at least a coat colour) or maybe even knew the pendragon’s name… “Caiohme – sorry. I’m afraid this isn’t normal.” Faida flashed her badge. “My name is Faida Mehrdad. I’m with the Watani Police Department. I’d like to ask you some questions if I may.” Faida’s gaze never left Caiohme, and she saw the colours about the young jeweller shift and tense. They condensed like the atoms of a solid do in Chemistry and became deeper shades of themselves. Faida eyed Kaie, her suspicions increasing even more. Finding a spare chair nearby, Faida grabbed it and plopped it right beside Kaie’s work station. She doubted anyone would have offered her a seat and she really didn’t have the time to play a stupid game of etiquette (though she was certain her parents would scold her if they knew how she was behaving). She seated herself in it quite curtly and looked at to the manager. “May I speak with Caoimhe in private, please?” The manager gave something of a sour look despite her nervousness. Still, she composed herself, nodding, and said, “Of course.” The manager waved her hands at Kaie’s co-workers. The one called ‘Kesto was the first to stand. The two others, who Faida assumed were likely to be apprentices, quickly followed his example. They all were ushered to the door. Although hardly a crowd, Faida stifled a smile at the thought of the employer and the three employees huddling in the front room. It was, after all, a very small room. The building itself wasn’t very large. Faida watched them as they all filed out into the gallery and waited until the door was closed before she turned back around to Caiohme. The thill looked a little nervous to Faida. She must know something… “Would you tell me about the ‘dragon you had an encounter with around the thirty-eighth of Tessera? And why you’ve hardly seemed to notice that your coat is silver? Or, rather, why you haven’t cared to explain that to, seemingly, anyone?”
Caiomhe was tense. It wasn't often that police come into your work place and separated you from your work colleagues to ask you very pointed questions about anything, especially in Bhim. It wasn't often you would find police in Bhim! The musky, auburn workshop carried a tinny smell, from when tools and projects were finished up before packaging and sending. To work for long periods of time in the jewellery shop, you needed to breathe slowly and not panic, so only level headed, controlled Pendragons were suited to work under pressure there. The atmosphere could be enough to make you feel like you're choking when the day's busy. Caiomhe swept her worktop with a newly gloved paw and listened carefully to what Faida had to say. She didn't look towards her colleagues at all. Her eyes were indeed focused some inches over Faida's shoulder, at the back wall on which hung her leather jacket – the image of Lelres apparent between the wide folds. She leant forwards and rested her jaw over her loosely folded arms, forming a bit of a cushion, and closed her eyes slowly, listening and carefully considering what was being said to her. ”Was it the 38th...? Feels so long ago now, when you put it like that, Fai',” Caiomhe reopened her eyes and stared across the length of the table; the smells of the shop slowly dissipated behind a blanket of conjured jungle scents. She breathed in deeply, noticeably, and exhaled – her voice distinctly fluttering in the breath of remembrance; her hands clenched with numb happiness. ”Do you know what it feels like – to feel – able to see someone? It's strange,” Kaie didn't move her head; her eyes turned on Faida's to see what kind of response she'd get. ”Maybe. I can't see very well. They say I'm nearly blind. But – that touch. He meant every word. If you're looking for a name I didn't get one. He's – able enough to do what he wants to do, y'know? I didn't see him – his face? But I did see his arms...” Caiomhe bit on her lower lip gently. ”He's strong; soft...” She looked back towards her jacket, and nodded lightly, widening her eyes as her head reached “full tilt” and narrowing them again as her head returned. ”He got me that. He got me these gloves too, and these trousers! I don't know where he had them, but they weren't close by. He left me by the water in the dark. I dunno, half an hour? He was back with these,” she raised her hands from underneath her jaw, and straightened in her chair as she did, to show off the fronts and backs of her black leather, half finger gloves to the young cop. After a moment or two of thinking, she broke the silence again – like a niotie after shopping in Mitsu's Lingerie! She pressed the finger tips of her right hand against her chest – against the dark grey t-shirt. ”It's like he knows what I like. They were perfects fits – every one of them. Heh. An encounter with... you make it sound bad. He might be the one killing these 'dragons, but I've touched him... he's touched me and you've never felt so caring a touch... He touched me in ways and places I'd never let anyone, because he didn't want to – well – y'know – rub me up the wrong way if you get m'drift?” She clenched her fists, put her arms together in front of her with her elbows propped up on the worktop, and rested her jaw again in between the palms of her fists – her pinky finger stroked the tip of her nose a few times as she thought carefully of her next answer. ”My fur – my fur has always been this tone. It got dyed to make m'parents happy, y'know? And although...” Caiomhe held her forearm up in front of her eyes and peered, “although I cannot make all the details out, I know how my fur should feel. When it was dyed, I felt sluggish. I think he knew that.” Thill Kaie began to feel a tremble sneak up on her, and snatched her hands from the table. ”Is it weird, to you? I feel this way... it's uh-m... he's not normal. Can I have my jacket please?” Her right leg started to shake – like a speedy drummer attempting to imitate a double-bass with a single bass pedal. ”I'm nervous, as you – as you can see.” She knew she wasn't in trouble; it was an exercise in information gathering after all. "Faida, what do you think of all this? Do police have opinions?" Caiomhe slung her head back in an attempt to shake the trembling and suck in the tinny air once more. Her eyes burned behind their seals under the cheap halogen lamps. 'Why did she have to ask?'
From the moment the thill spoke, Faida noticed something and she almost could hardly believe it. The tone in Kaie’s voice resonated love and passion, and the colours around her (despite her nervousness) took on a swirling, dancing pattern. It almost hit Faida like a train. Kaie had fallen in love with the ‘dragon, who had likely intended to kill her. That was why Kaie bounced back so easily after Déstiq’s death. Actually, the thill didn’t even “bounce back”; she hadn’t even faltered, most likely. But why hadn’t he killed her? There had to be some sort of reason for him killing these pendragons. It wasn’t random, obviously. Faida knew that from the start. But what did he look for in his victims? It was something specific – something very specific, Faida felt. Faida eyed Caiohme again, watching the colours about the thill continue to swirl and dance happily as she talked about the one she loved. He obviously wasn’t a cracked lunatic, so to speak. He was obviously a reasonable, thinking fellow. But, even still, to go as far as to kill ‘dragons in such a way; what major offense, in his eyes, had these ‘dragons committed? Faida listened to the love-struck jeweller continue to speak of the suspect. She jotted down notes every now and then, her curiosity about the killer rising. She had so many questions – even more than she had started with. She wished she could have the answers now, but that wasn’t going to happen. Faida figured the only person who could answer her questions was the killer himself. She had to find him – not just to stop him from killing, but to satisfy her own curiosity about him. Faida didn’t reply immediately to any of Kaie’s questions. Her mind was fluttered, thus her anxiety had risen. She had to work on calming herself down. However, when the jeweller asked for her coat Faida complied and handed it to her. She breathed as steadily as she could. She didn’t want to stutter at all – it was hardly professional. And if she did, she’d likely only become more frustrated than she was now. A minute or two of silence passed before Faida finally was able to speak without falling over her words. It probably felt awkward to Kaie, but Faida was quite used to these moments of silence. She had committed them frequently in her life. “It isn’t as strange to me as you might think it to be, Caiohme. You’ve spent intimate time with someone the public and the police only know as a killer. We know nothing of his behaviour. “You mentioned that you touched him. Can you tell me about his fur? It’s texture, length? How tall do you feel he was in comparison to you? What was his body’s build?” Faida paused for a moment, thinking. She followed up her pointed line of questions with one that might been seen as quite random: “Also, can you tell me about Déstiq Bohl?
Caiomhe eagerly took the jacket into both hands, passing a couple finger tips over the clean (yet definitely grungy) motif. She slung it around her shoulders and swiftly zipped it right up to leave but a small gap to see her neck. Not so much as to see her dark grey t-shirt. His smell was still on it. She could still feel it. The jacket did more than to comfort her. There was an odd connection only a young Thill could feel with an item when someone had pressed the right buttons, and given her an item as a symbol by which to remember that special moment. The silence wasn't too bad, admittedly, but she did expect Faida to agree with the peculiarity of being intensely attracted to someone about whom many apparently felt uneasy. "Mmm. Black,” her head tilted to one side, she stared past Faida again, ”The silky kind. His touch was soft - his fur I mean. I held onto his arm. He - came up against me - first face on. Then the next thing I know, I have my back to his chest and his arm was around my chest. I wasn't moving nor did I want to. His... company, just him being there - it felt right. You say he's the killer. It doesn't connect in my mind; I don't see him like that. He's taller than me. Easily. Five seven? Five eight? Something like that? Definitely not six, I'd think. He didn't feel that tall. How do you describe it..? He's... there's a certain kind of strength in his arms. I could feel the muscles under his fur. He wasn't, like, a body builder, but he felt fiiirm. That's about all I can say 'bout him." Caiomhe shifted in her chair. Déstiq. "What do you want to know about Déstiq? He drank. He did drugs at one point. I didn't like it; I told him, and he did stop, but then - he started again. Things just got harder, and harder. He threatened me some nights; he forced me to do things I didn't want to do sometimes. My dad didn't like him, much, from the start, and I can't blame him. I'd be unhappy too if I found my niotie was being badly treated. I bet you're wondering why I went anywhere near him, then? Hmm." Caiomhe smiled sincerely and turned back to the unclear form sitting near her. ”D'y'know... being serious... I can't really tell you if there was sense in why I took to Déstiq. He was the one to stand out of the crowd and, I guess, I felt privileged to know him. He was gentle with me, in front of his friends, and I felt really important, like I mattered even more.” Kaie swiftly swept hair around the right side of her face behind her ear, revealing her gentle features above the cut of the black jacket, while the other side remained shrouded behind her soft, well maintained hair. "I've always had a soft spot for the mistaken kind. The sort you look at and think they're up to no good. A lot of the time I'm wrong. Dé' was a law unto himself. We fought, we argued. He did things I can't miss. I wanted things to be better, I mean, I wanted to marry him because I hoped that, if he promised himself to me, he would change. I felt bad around him, because he never knew I'm going blind, and it was a secret I felt would hurt less if we could spend our lives together.” Kaie straightened up and arched her back over the back-rest of the chair, stretching out her hands and arms away across the workshop. She stayed there, for a short while, giving herself time to remember Déstiq as though he was but a distant, fuzzy memory. ”When you find him, heh. Listen to that little thing in his voice.”
(OOC: This feels like such an awful post. Feel free to scrutinize, Alex. Seriously, please, scruntinize!) Faida studied the thill carefully as she watched Kaie put the jacket on. Although her sight was extremely poor today, she could still see the colours around Kaie swirl and sift about her. They stilled for a moment as Kaie inhaled the scent on the coat. It almost made Faida's eyebrow quirk. This thill had it bad. Honestly, Faida thought Kaie was the worst she had ever seen. As Kaie spoke, Faida had scribbled all the information that the grey thill had told her, except Faida's notes sounded infinitely more removed from the situation. They were entirely and factually written with such things as "soft, black pelt" and "around five feet, seven inches or five feet, eight inches." To be honest, Faida felt a little uncomfortable with the way Kaie was describing the suspect. Kaie's meeting with him seemed eerily intimate... How could a relationship advance to such levels in such a short amount of time? Faida was rather curious. She had never seen such a relationship develop so quickly. She was surprised at the wave of relief that washed over her when Kaie transitioned to discussing Déstiq. Apparently, Faida was taking in the information more deeply than she realised... Déstiq seemed like an interesting character and rather screwed up. As Kaie scruntinized her relationship with him, the colours about her changed to a sort of hum. It was a thoughtful field that enveloped her. Faida wondered if this was the first time Kaie had really thought about her relationship with Déstiq. It was a strange sight to see, honestly. Still, Faida prevented her thoughts from wandering too far and jotted down more notes. As she wrote, she began to make a list in her mind of possible traits the killer looked for in his victims. Drug abuse? It seemed too broad. A lot of 'dragons were into drugs, after all. Those who physically abused others? Faida scrunched her nose slightly. No, that couldn't be it. Some of the victims were too young to physically abuse anyone. And if he was after physical abusers, then why had he seen it fit to kill that female on the boat? They were the only ones that had left on the boat—it was confirmed by the dock manager. What was it that related all of these victims? What tied them together? Faida could feel her frustration rising. She hated this darkness. It irked her even more as she was certain it was something obvious, but she just wasn't able to see it. Faida sighed quietly to herself and focused back on the present. "When you find him, heh. Listen to that little thing in his voice." The phrase caught Faida off-guard and she stared at Kaie with wide eyes. She recovered quickly though and cleared her throat. "Do you know where he took you to or where he left you?"
Caiomhe turned her head away from her company, wary of the sudden increase in diameter, looking somewhat more sideways at Faida. It was an unexpected reaction - that is not to suggest Caiomhe was looking for a response. It was more... a matter of fact. Caiomhe couldn't - and nor did she want to - shake the memory of his voice; like with anyone who experiences an unspecific moment and enjoys it, it makes little to no sense to - yourself - want to be rid of that memory. When she received the wide-eyed look, Kaie was instantly aware that her "pleasant memory" was something 'dragons were going to find awkward listening to. Perhaps it was good she was never questioned in the first place, nor did she ever speak of it, silently recalling the event in her own time. Though, something in her heart bubbled - a maternal sense of unease; as if, if she were to speak, she may be putting her memory in danger. Kaie began, herself, to suspect the motives behind Faida's questions. Coupled with the follow-up enquiry, Caiomhe sensed an urge to start asking her own questions... But now she was dealing with a representative of the law... Some thought (it's all it took) to choose the smarter avenue. "'satsu. He didn't take me, but it's where he left me. Usually chilly, but I like it there. I know my little place there like the back of my hand. Oh, and there're some raiders down there you may wanna snag." Her mouth rose at the furthest most points, igniting a hidden cheeky streak in her personality - "rare to show but fast to grow" as she'd put it. "I don't know how much more I can tell you. Mm.. 'Satsu, clothes, Déstiq... my fur... and as much as I can remember of him. IS there anything else you think I may have missed? Um - I earn 15 Khasi an hour?" Caiomhe pulled the lapels of her jacket forwards to bring some of the gathered material up from the base of her back, making it sit more naturally over her shoulders, and rested the side of her head back down into the palm of her hand - her elbow back on the work surface. Her fingertips played with her cheek fluff briefly before copping hold an errant hair and - passing it from between her middle finger and thumb to between her index finger and thumb, ran her fingers along the length of the strand out in front of her. Without a shadow of a doubt, Kaie couldn't wait to see him again, but she had to accept that she probably never would. A chance meeting, and he'd done more for her than she could say any mutual Arden ever could have. "As a niotie, I didn't want to have my fur dyed. But when I grew up a bit more I accepted it had to be the way my parents wanted, and my dream to have my fur back kinda -- kinda died, y'know? Like, when you know you can't have something, no matter how hard you pray for it? I'm not a praying Thill, really, but... I d'no... sometimes - sometimes you pray because you're all outta options, and some lucky things seem to get what they want for praying! I never told anyone about my fur. It's like growing up with 2 or 3 tails, 8 ears or being down on all fours all the time, or having bony spines on your elbows; it's normal. People don't ask. They see you ginger - tawny - orange - whatever - they just associate name, with colour. Colour, with name, yeah? My dad is sort of weird about praying. My mum's not doing well so he stopped praying to not tempt fate. But I pray sometimes, on the quiet. Seems like my prayers were answered. Don't want to over do it, though." Kaie thoughtfully looked towards Faida's notepad. "What more can I do?" Laced with more than the simple intention to help the wheels of justice, Kaie stared half off into space. At that time, Kaie thought she'd heard a familiar rapping on the front desk. Their high paying customer had arrived and was looking for their order. The rapping was the Arden waiting, and he didn't like to wait. The shopkeeper gingerly poked her head past the door and, if oddly, searched the room briefly to rediscover Caiomhe's seat. "Pardon me, Miss. Mehrdad, can we conclude this interview? I expect many customers to arrive soon, and Caiomhe there keeps us on top of the orders." "Oh Cussla, not him is it? Uh, Faida, I really don't know what else I can tell you. You can talk to my dad if you want, but he's not doing very well right now. I hope I've helped." Caiomhe reached out and tapped Faida on the hand. "Good luck."
Faida noted to go to Satsu soon and see if anyone around the area had seen the arden fitting Caiohme’s description. Faida doubted it though. This arden seemed skilled in making himself invisible when he didn’t wish to be seen. It irritated Faida. The sarcastic comment of the silver thill also irked the young psychologist, but she kept her mouth shut. Faida was certain if she got to know Caiohme Kaie better, she would find the niotie to be very cheeky and sharp-tongued despite her sweet nature. Yes, beneath that sweet disposition was a feisty creature. The lukuo listened to the jeweller’s final speech, nodding her head slightly. Caiohme’s prayers had been answered. What exactly did that mean? Did she feel a sort of revelation—a freedom after meeting with the suspect? Did he make her feel accepted? What exactly had he done? Did she also want Bohl dead? Faida couldn’t see Caiohme as the murderous type, but there was a dark corner in everyone’s soul that demanded for some evil deed to be fulfilled. Just then, the manager came in, requesting for the interview to be concluded. Faida nodded. “Thank you for all your help, Caiohme,” Faida said finally, closing her notepad. “You’ve been very helpful. “Would you mind if I contact you again, if I think of anymore questions? Also, would you please contact me if you hear from or meet him again? I know that’s a lot to ask, but I would appreciate your help.” She didn’t wait for an answer; she simply handed Caiohme her information, personal number included. She highly doubted that Caiohme would come into contact with the suspect ever again. Faida was fairly certain that Caiohme had been his original target and he discovered upon meeting her that he had made a mistake. However kind and gentle he was to her, he wasn’t likely to ever speak to her again. Although Caiohme had fallen in love with him, Faida doubted that he had fallen in love with Caiohme. “Take care, Caiohme.” Faida slipped her hand out from underneath Caiohme’s and rose from her chair. She walked over to the door, offering an appreciative but apologetic smile to the manager, saying, “Thank you for being patient. I’m sorry for disrupting your schedule.” With that Faida slipped by and out into the front room. She slithered through the customers and Caiohme’s co-workers and slipped out the door. She still felt unhappy with the results. Although she had collected valuable information, she still had originally been hoping for more. In truth, she was hoping to find what made him tick, but all she could figure was that he had a soft spot for the misunderstood and the used…
