A shadowy form dropped to the street shortly after the fiery-haired thief had made off with her score. Definitely need to keep an eye on that one, he thought to himself. He checked the wounded thug for any serious injury and placed an anonymous call to the Garrison City PD, then sprung back up the full height of the building to get a better look at the small fire in the harbor. Surveillance was the mode for the evening, or what was left of it. He had been on his way to the docks to ‘keep an eye out’ when he came across this new operator. The information had been passed to him by the Organization that there was a new high-class cat-burglar in town, but this had been the first time their paths had crossed. He stood in the chill night air, gazing across the cityscape to the twinkling light in the harbor. Like a star that had fallen from the sky to lay floating in the cold, dark water, and his mind drifted.
The Organization had asked him to relocate to Garrison City eighteen months ago. It was no big deal since his company, KenTech, had recently opened up another R&D lab there and Kaye had been more than happy to transfer to the Garrison City Museum. The Organization… So far their activities that he had been involved in were on the up and up, but each ‘job’ was going progressively more towards a direction he wasn’t sure he wanted to go. He knew they could play nasty, had seen it before, and had taken various steps of his own. Kaye would be happy at least. No more running off to who-knows-where to do who-knows-what every time the phone rang, that is, when she wasn’t able to join him…
The sky had just begun to lighten as he slid the key into the door of his home. They had renovated one of the older brownstones in the Old Bridge district, a quiet neighborhood within close proximity of BSU where Kaye gave the occasional lecture and the museum where she spent most of her time when she wasn’t off on a dig. He tossed the morning paper on the counter and pulled a note from the microwave. Kaye’s flowing cursive wrote:
Sorry we missed each other this evening, but the Museum is sending me off to Mexico on an assignment. Be back in a few weeks. Take care of yourself and don’t forget to feed the fish.
He glanced at the beta floating in the bowl on the counter, fins swishing expectantly as he hovered near the water’s surface.
“Here you go, Ismael,” he sprinkled a few dried bloodworms into the bowl, watching the expectant beta gulp them down in a flurry. “Well, you’ve had breakfast, now it’s my turn…