Hey, here's the next part. This one should be really enjoyable. Talk about plot twists! Enjoy and please comment.

Chapter 5: Speak Softly Love

I return to my house quickly, my thoughts swimming. I push open the door and look around, moving my ears around to hear if Dad is here or not. When I don’t hear any footsteps inside the house, I assume he’s still off doing whatever required him to go to work this morning. I sigh and step forward and climb the stairs to the second floor.
As I turn towards my room, I think of going up to talk to Charlie. I’m sure he’d like to hear the progress we’ve made, even if it’s only left more questions. Including what exactly is the importance of the Kingsfield Manor among others. I quickly walk to my room and go through it to the closet where the ladder goes up to the attic.
I open the door and then quickly climb the ladder. The ladder and the boards near the ladder creak as I climb up it. Once I mount the ladder, I slowly begin to walk towards where Charlie still stands. I hear the quiet sound of gears grinding as I near him. He must be awake. Then again, I don’t know if he sleeps or not.
“David?” A calm voice asks.
I walk around the grandfather clock and look to Charlie. I see his metal eyebrows lift upwards and his nose turn directly towards me, his robotic ears lining up so that they can face me as well. He must be happy, or at least trying to tell me he’s happy. I smile in return, my tail wagging a bit in sort of a greeting.
“I thought nobody would ever return.” He replies. “I’m so very happy to see you.”
I walk towards him and then look around the ground. Finding a steamer trunk to my left, I pull it slightly towards me and then seat myself down onto it. Charlie looks down over his chest and at me, still as happy as before. I look up at him and then sit back against the box behind me.
“We did some investigating.” I say.
“Good, good, did you find anything of value?” Charlie asks.
“Well . . .” I begin, “we did find this ‘bearded lion’ you said. His name is Mr. Baylor and he now owns a record store near the square. He and three other scientists made you and brought you here. The other one I know is Mr. Santorini. This was his house, before he died.”
Charlie smiles and cocks his head to the side whilst looking to me.
“But you don’t know who I am? Or why I’m trapped? Or why I can’t remember?” He asks.
I shake my head.
“Baylor didn’t know much. He arrived here right before you were created. He said something about a code to lock your body up. But, as for your memory, he doesn’t know. It could be damage to your mind, but, like I said, he doesn’t know.” I say.
Charlie’s smile goes away for a few seconds, before slightly returning. I look to him and he cocks his head to the side. I see him looking up the small aisle I use to walk to him. I follow his eyes and see a box filled with what looks like albums. His eyes stop at the album at the very end.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
“Do you see the LP, at the end of the box?” He asks me.
“Yeah, the white one?” I ask.
I look to him and see him nod. His eyes turn towards me and he cocks his head. He doesn’t look happy anymore, but, more serious or contemplative. Honestly, he’s really advanced, even if he was made in 1988. His eyes turn downwards for just a moment before he looks back at me.
“It’s A Night at the Opera by Queen.” He says.
My eyebrows go upwards. I quickly stand up and quickly stride to the box filled with albums. I grab the white album at the end of the box and pick it up. Turning it towards me, I see the crest in the middle of the white background. My jaw almost hits the floor.
“Well, I’ll be damned.” I say quietly to myself.
I turn the album around and then look inside. There is the album, but it definitely isn’t in good shape. In fact, most of the album is smashed. One half of the album is in alright shape, but the other half, it’s been smashed into two pieces, with one missing, the letters ‘EEN’ in QUEEN and the words ‘T THE OPERA’, the first ‘T’ being from the word ‘AT’, being on that shard. I close the album and then return it.
I turn around and look to Charlie. I then quickly walk to him and stand before him. He smirks a little bit, trying to force a smile, but, cannot make me smile in return. Seeing that I will not smile, he simply cocks his head.
“How can you remember that?” I ask him loudly.
Suddenly Charlie’s eyebrows go up and his ears turn around and fold back against his head. His head rears back in a bit of fear. Seeing that I’m frightening him, I take a step back and try to calm myself down. I wait until he is comfortable before continuing.
“How can you remember that?” I ask calmly. “You said your memory was damaged.”
He shakes his head slowly.
“I was looking around the room. The album caught my eyes. Something flashed before my eyes. I heard the music as I saw darkness with a bit of moonlight.” Charlie says. “What does it mean?”
I look up to him and shrug my shoulders.
“I don’t know. Maybe your memory isn’t damaged.” I say. “One of my friends’ mom was a nurse at a psyche ward in a hospital. He said that she told him that trauma, either mental, emotional or physical, can cause damage in the mind. Maybe the memories are repressed.”
I notice that my eyes have drifted down to the floor as I talked. Seeing what I’ve done, I raise my muzzle back up towards Charlie. I see him with his head cocked to the side, his eyebrows telling me that he doesn’t understand. I sigh.
“But, I’m a robot.” Charlie says. “Those rules don’t apply to me. At least, I think they don’t.”
Suddenly my eyebrows go up as I look to Charlie as he ponders. I stare at him, almost speechless for several seconds, until he notices me staring and turns his eyes towards me, as well as his ears.
“I don’t know what this means.” I say to myself. “Mr. Baylor said you were living once. Maybe what he said was true. But . . . how is that even possible?”

Dad returns home nearly four hours after I get home, just after I eat dinner. He tells me that work was busy, that they were having a problem which is why he was called in. He says that he may be called out tomorrow as well and eats and goes into the other room without saying much of anything else.
When Dad surely must be asleep, or at least ignorant of what I am doing, I sneak out of the house. I quickly hop down the stairs and begin slowly up the walkway and then turn onto the sidewalk. I continue along the sidewalk and turn my head as soon as I pass the side of the house.
Looking out over the field behind the house, I look towards Jane’s house. I’m not sure what to do. If I am supposed to meet Jane at her house or she at mine or if we are supposed to meet up outside of Kingsfield Manor. Assuming that it’s the latter of the three, I look away from the Porter farm and towards the large manor looming north of Evanston.
The old building seems to be like the monstrous creature in the backdrop of a horror movie poster. There’s something menacing about the place, in a way that I can’t explain. Like the old, abandoned house at the end of the block. Even knowing that, I still know that that place is where I need to go. And that Jane will be there as well.
As I round the end of the block, the sun is surely going down. The red orb hangs in the sky, turning the blue sky crispy reds and oranges. I look down and to the town before me. Almost empty, it feels like I’m walking through the stereotypical ghost town in a western. I pass through Evanston without seeing more than one or two people and only one car that isn’t parked.
Upon reaching the north side of town, I climb a large hill, following a road that goes towards the house. I reach the top of the hill and as I mount the top, I see a figure standing near an iron gate that sits at the center of a short stone wall that runs the old mansion. I know that that figure is Jane.
As I walk along the sidewalk along the stone wall, I look up at the house. It is a southern plantation-style building, built in the Greek Revivalist style with large columns and a porch that wraps around the building on not just the first, but second floor as well. The windows are black and a ‘for sale’ sign sits in the yard, hanging on one rusty ring, obviously old. Several old trees and unkempt grass give this place a haunted feel.
I look away from the old house and towards Jane. Several things are around her. She holds a long flashlight in one hand and a crowbar in the other. She has a small backpack on her back, probably filled with a few other essentials. As I near her, she turns towards me. Her tail wags. I smile back at her and feel my tail begin to wag as well, gently. I can hear the things in her backpack shaking around noisily, for just a second as she turns. I pick up my pace and jog the rest of the way to her.
“Jane.” I say loudly as I near her. “I was wondering if you’d be here or not.”
I stop running just before her and then look to her, breathing heavily, panting a little, even though I needn’t. I look up to her and smile, my tail now wagging much faster, my heart beating harder.
“What do you mean?” She asks.
“I . . . I didn’t know where to meet you.” I say.
“Oh.” She replies. “Well, we’re here. Let’s go in.”
Jane turns and looks to the gate. She steps up to it and then pushes on the iron bars. The bars creak loudly as the gate swings in. As she steps through the gate, I follow her, not bothering to close the gate behind me. I figure that nobody will really care. Jane doesn’t seem to notice how creepy this place is.
“What are we looking for?” I ask.
“I’m not sure.” Jane says. “But I’m sure we’ll know as soon as we see it.”
We slowly approach the house, following along an old path that leads to the porch on the first floor. I walk beside Jane, looking towards the house, as we near the porch. I stop just before the stairs, feeling odd for trespassing, but, Jane continues on as if nothing were wrong. She flips on the flashlight and points it towards the old door handle.
She reaches towards the doorknob, putting down the crowbar first, and twists the knob. The knob makes an audible clicking sound, but, does not budge. I hear Jane grunt as she tries to twist it using more force, but, that does little next to no good. Finally she steps back, picking up the crowbar, and turns around towards me.
“Looks like we won’t be getting in through the front door.” She says to me and steps forward.
“I sorta guessed that.” I say with a chuckle.
As Jane walks down the stairs, I look up to her.
“How are we going to get in?” I ask. “It isn’t like any of the windows are open.”
Jane stops on the bottom stair of the porch stairs and then looks up. She raises a hand to her chin and then looks to her right. I follow her eyes as she looks up the windows running the left side of the house. I hear her hum before turning her eyes in the other direction. She looks over the windows there before looking back to me.
“Maybe not these windows.” She says. “Come on, let’s have a look around.”
Jane steps down onto the pathway that runs across the unkempt lawn and to the open gate and then turns to my left. She begins to walk along the front of the house, her eyes looking up at the house. I look to her and see her tail gently wagging back and forth as she moves. My tail begins to wag faster and I raise my eyes up before getting any stupid ideas.
“What are you looking for?” I ask.
“Not sure.” Jane says without looking at me. “I’ll know it when I see it, though.”
We continue along the front of the house until the porch ends. Jane steps around the side of the house and we continue following the house into it’s shadow. Jane’s eyes fall from the first floor windows down towards the foot of the house. We continue for just ten more paces before Jane stops walking, gasping.
“There.” She says.
She raises the flashlight up and points it down towards the foot of the house. A window in the ground is shown with the light. The window, though small, is large enough for the both of us to fit through. It must go down into the cellar, as the bottom of the window goes right into the foundation of the house.
“A cellar window?” I ask. “How are we going to use that instead of a larger window above?”
“This is how.” Jane says.
She turns and goes to the window. Kneeling down, she drops the crowbar to the grass and then reaches out towards the window, the flashlight kept on the window at all times. She touches the window and suddenly it creaks open. The window doesn’t lock, or, if it does, the lock was removed long ago.
“Yes.” She says and straightens her back.
She looks over her shoulder and to me. I quickly step up to her and take a knee, looking to the open window. I smile and my tail begins to wag happily. I cannot believe we’ve found an unlocked window. But, I don’t want to look a gift horse in the mouth.
“My brothers sneak out through our basement window. They’ve since removed the lock to keep Daddy from locking it while they’re out having ‘fun’.” Jane says and looks to me. “I figured the basement window would be unlocked. Even if it wasn’t, it would have been good to look anyway.”
“It sure is lucky.” I say. “Come on, let’s get inside before the cops decide to show up.”
“Right.” Jane says.
Jane picks up the crowbar and hands it to me. I hold it while Jane slips the backpack from her back. She puts it against the side of the house and then puts her paws down through the window. She looks to me and smiles.
“Just leave the crowbar here.” She says. “We’ll have to come back through the basement window anyways, so, we’ll get the stuff on our way out.”
“Right.” I say.
Jane lies down on her back and slips through the window. She almost doesn’t fit, but, moves her muzzle around so that her face doesn’t get caught. I place the crowbar beside the old army backpack, or just a pea green backpack, I don’t really know. I then sit down in front of the window and begin through it as Jane did.
I slip my legs through the window with ease and slide through until my paws touch the concrete ground before me. Then I grunt as I push my chest and head through, moving my muzzle to an odd angle to slip through, just as Jane had to. I drop to the concrete ground and then stand up straight, taking a deep sigh of relief.
I look forward and to Jane. She shines the flashlight around the empty basement. There literally is nothing here, save for a coal furnace and water heater. No boxes, no old furniture, not even some stuff left behind. I follow Jane’s flashlight around the room until we scan the entire room.
“Doesn’t look like anything’s here.” I say loudly.
“Yeah.” Jane says. “I didn’t think there would be anything. Let’s go upstairs. I doubt we’ll find anything else here. The attic, though, I think that might be a little more fruitful.”
Jane begins forward and towards the wooden staircase that runs up the middle of the cold room. I follow behind her, not trying to bump into anything as we make our way through the dark room. We go to the stairs and begin slowly up them, almost every other wooden step creaking as we go up it.
As we near the door at the top of the staircase, Jane quietly opens it and continues up and out of the cellar. As I follow her out, I look around the hallway we enter and then slowly follow Jane around the corner. We go up the hallway and to the stairs leading up to the second floor, which runs right above the stairs going into the basement. As I near the stairs, I look to Jane.
“So, what do you know about this place?” I ask. “Tell me what you know?”
Jane shines the flashlight back at me as she rounds the banister and begins silently up the stairs. She then shines it ahead of her and then sighs audibly.
“I don’t know much, but, more than most people do.” She says as she looks forward. “The house was owned by Horus and Loretta Kingsfield. Wealthy people, they owned the Kingsfield Shoe Factory which employed near five hundred furs, males and females. Daddy says that once the production of just about everything moved to China and India in the eighties, the factory began to lose profits.”
Jane climbs the staircase and then, as she nears the top, she aims the flashlight towards the left side of the hallway there. We mount the stairs and then begin up the old hallway. We peak in every room as we go up the hallway, but, find nothing more than old wallpaper that is peeling and every once in a while a piece of broken glass or torn paper.
Finally, as we near the end of the hallway, I open a door on my left and look in. The wallpaper is of things that a puppy would like. Tiny pictures of rattles and pacifiers and the like dot the baby blue background. Some of the old wallpaper is peeling in places, but, I surely know what this room was: a nursery.
“They had a puppy, a male.” I say and open the door widely.
I step into the room and look around. The wallpaper makes the room both feel warm and very cold, in ways that I can hardly describe. Jane follows me into the room and shines the light around. I hear her chuckle a little bit, probably finding the room cute.
“So?” I ask.
“Oh, yeah.” Jane says and begins to continue. “I suppose they must have had to downsize because of competition and finally the entire factory closed. Five hundred families had to move away and without those people to spend their money here, the town wilted and died. Shops closed up, businesses moved away and the town very much fell from the map.”
I wait for a little while as I look around the beautiful room. Finally, when I do not hear Jane continue to speak, I look to her. She look around and then up to me, showing me her brown eyes. She smiles a little and then I see her tail wag gently.
“But you don’t know about their family?” I ask and shake my head gently.
She shakes her head and hums to herself, her eyes looking away.
“I don’t.” Jane says softly, gently. “Apparently they had a puppy or a kitten. I’m not sure if they were canines or felines. And nothing here really tells us much about that.”
“Now what?” I ask and look to her.
Her eyes look back to me and she smiles.
“We move on, I suppose. Up to the attic.” Jane says.
I smile and then motion towards the door with my hand. Jane continues across the room. As I near the end of the room, I turn around to close the door and look back in. I can almost hear ‘Rock-a-Bye Baby’ being played from a musical plush rocking horse worked by a tiny tin crank. I now know what word to use: eerie. I close the door and then turn and begin to follow Jane up the hallway.
We find a small staircase going up to the attic hidden behind a thin doorway at the end of the hallway and follow it slowly up to the attic. As we enter the attic, I immediately look around as Jane steps up and begins across the room. The room isn’t impressive and I doubt it hides anything. The roof isn’t high and at either end of the room are small windows that open out to the open air.
A single light hangs from the center of the large room. And the entire room is bare, just like every other room in this old Kingsfield Manor. The furniture must have been taken when it was up for sale and, then, never bought. Even so, Jane walks across the room, moving the flashlight back and forth.
I mount the stairs and then step out into the room myself. I look around, my eyes scanning to some of the darker parts of the room, but, see nothing of importance. Jane mustn’t see anything, or, if she does, she isn’t saying anything about it. I walk slowly as I move through the room, following the sloping ceiling above my head until I near the end of the room. I then walk to the window and look out between the fixed shades. I don’t see much of anything out of it.
“Do you see anything?” I ask loudly, without looking over my shoulder.
“No.” Jane replies. “This room is as bare as the rest. It wasn’t what I thought It’d be. I though the room would be—”
“—Filled with furniture.” We both say in unison.
“I know.” I then say. “I kinda thought so too.”
I turn and look around to Jane. I see her tail wagging, almost thrashing, back and forth. She smiles just barely, but her eyes look to me and blaze with a fire inside. I feel my heart begin to pound and I take a deep breath. Suddenly the flashlight slips from her hand and slams to the ground.
“Oops.” Jane says as she comes out of a trance-like state.
Her eyes go down and she looks to the flashlight, her tail ceasing it’s wagging. The flashlight rolls around and then stops, shining the other way. But as it rolls, I notice something. Across the room, in the corner just beside the window on the other side, I see something glimmer on the wooden floor.
I step away from the window and then turn around. Jane kneels down and then begins to pick up the flashlight. As she picks it up, she moves it gently around. As she does, I notice the light is caught by that same thing. I see a little glimmer, almost like a piece of glass or something, shine on the ground once more. Just momentarily, the glimmer manages to catch my eye.
“Hey.” I say.
Jane looks up to me and her tail begins to wag again, but, this time, only gently. I step forward a few steps and keep my eyes on the part of the floor, over in the corner, where I saw that glimmer. I step toward Jane and keep my eyes looking over her shoulder. When I near her, I finally put my eyes on her, first on her plaid shirt and then up to her eyes.
“Can-can you point the flashlight over there?” I ask, almost stuttering.
I feel my heart pounding once more, but, not for the same reason as it was before. I lift my arm up and point over her shoulder, my white and black fur showing through the darkness. Jane turns her head and looks back towards the corner where my finger points. She then lifts up the flashlight.
“Sure.” She says.
She turns her body fully around and points the flashlight in the direction where I wanted her to. I quickly take a step forward so that I am standing beside her, able to see past where she stands. As soon as the light hits that area, I see the little sparkle in the ground, just as I did before. I quickly point towards it and smile, my tail beginning to wag.
“There!” I say loudly, happily. “Do you see it?”
“Yeah!” Jane replies, her voice even happier. “What is it?”
“I don’t know, but, let’s go find out!” I say.
I quickly rush towards the sparkle on the floor but slow down considerably as I near it. I sidestep around the sparkle in the ground as to not hit my head on the low ceiling, outside being the roof itself, and then stop moving entirely. I try to keep my tail from thrashing around, but, I’m just too happy not to wag my tail.
I kneel down and then look to the sparkle, coming from something squeezed between two of the floorboards. Jane slowly begins forward, stepping slowly as to keep the flashlight still. But, after just eight or nine large steps, Jane is just beside me. She gently places the flashlight on the ground, still facing whatever that shiny thing is, and then kneels down beside me.
“What is it?” She asks calmly.
“I don’t know.” I say. “It seems to be wedged between those floorboards.”
I gently move my hand forward and then run my hand over the floorboards between which that thing is stuck. I feel something poke my hand as I go over that area. I then lift my hand and, using the claws on the end of my pointer finger and thumb, grab the thing. I pull the small, whatever it is, out of the crack and then hold it up.
A small, black shard, something is written on the end that was down in the floorboards. It’s white with the words ‘NIGHT A’ written on them. Suddenly my eyebrows skyrocket upwards. I think about Charlie, about the album back at home, the one that Charlie said he had recognized and showed me.
“A Night at the Opera.” I say aloud.
“A night at the opera?” Jane asks me. “What are you talking about?”
I lift my head up and look to her. I slowly move the shard of black, vinyl record towards her. She looks down at it with her lips puckered. She doesn’t seem to know who Queen is. Then again, I wouldn’t either if it weren’t for my dad showing me his collection back at home one night.
“It’s an album by Queen.” I say. “I went and talked to Charlie today. He said he had a little vision when he saw an album in a box up in that room. It was Queen’s A Night at the Opera. It was in shards. And here’s a missing piece.”
“Wait, he, he had a vision?” Jane asks.
“Yeah.” I say. “He said it was odd and that he shouldn’t have one. I said he may have amnesia or something stupid like that and he shot down that, saying he’s a robot and it doesn’t apply to him, but, there it is.”
“Then why is there a piece up here?” Jane asks obviously accepting what Charlie saw.
“I don’t know.” I say.
I lower the piece to the ground and then look to the floorboards. Suddenly I notice that one of the floorboards doesn’t fit properly. I lift my hand from the shard of vinyl record and then move it towards the floorboard. Running my fingers over the floorboard, it jangles and smacks around, telling me it is very loose.
“It’s loose.” I say. “It’s been lifted up and replaced.”
With both hands, I quickly fit my claws around it and begin to pry it up. Now I sort of wished we would have brought the stuff in her backpack. But, after a bit of prying, the floorboard finally comes up. Being only about ten inches long, somebody must have intentionally lifted it up and replaced it, cutting the section off first and marked it with a tiny, inconspicuous marker.
Looking into the hole beneath the floorboard, I see something a bit surprising. Down, between large pieces of insulation beneath the floorboards around it, is a lunchbox. A metal tin lunchbox with Def Leppard stuff stuck all over it, whatever was under the stickers is now entirely obscured by the stickers.
“It’s a lunchbox.” Jane says.
“No,” I say as I put my fingers around it, “it’s a time capsule.”
I lift the tin lunchbox from its grave and then place it gently down onto the floorboard beside the open one. I then gently put my fingers onto the two locks and flip them open. I can almost hear my heartbeat beating in my ears, as clearly as I can hear Jane breathing, anticipating whatever inside. Finally, I gently open the lunchbox.
Letting the top hang open freely, I look down into the tin pail. Inside are some odd things. An old pocket watch, which, surprisingly, still ticks. A set of jacks, with the jacks actually made of metal, sits inside as well. A peace medallion necklace, a bullet cartridge of a .30-06, a patch from a Boy Scout troop 717, and, something very, very surprising, all sit inside.
“What are those?” I hear Jane ask as I put my hand down into the lunchbox.
I put my hands around them and then lift them out. Finally, I turn my palm up and open my fingers. Sitting between my pads are two wedding rings. One for a male and one for a female, set with a large, priceless diamond in it. Jane gasps and then gently takes the two rings from my pads. As she looks over the rings, I look back into the box.
I find a picture sitting inside. Pulling it out, I look at it. The picture has been ripped in half, angrily, as I can tell, and only reveals half. Although, the half I have is important as well. It is of a German Shepherd male, standing near six foot tall, dressed in a sports jacket and slacks, smiling as wide as can be and looking towards the camera while his hands hold the person who’s half was ripped off.
Flipping it over, I see if there could possibly be something on the back. I’m right. Written on the back with a fancy blue pen are the words ‘. . . And Charlie Kingsfield’. My eyes open wide and I draw a quick, sharp breath. My heart can be felt beating all the way up in my head. I look to the words and then look up at Jane.
“Charlie was their son.” I say, almost dizzily.
“And he was going to get married.” Jane says.
I look down to the lunchbox and then return the picture. I take deep breath after deep breath. I look up to Jane and then look to the rings before quickly and sharply looking back up to her. She gets my message and returns the two rings into the lunchbox. I quickly shut the lunchbox and then lock it.
Getting myself up to my paws, I hold the lunchbox tightly against my body. Jane climbs up onto her paws and looks to me. I turn in the opposite direction and quickly walk towards the stairs, even in the darkness. Jane stands up and grabs the flashlight, pointing it my way. He dashes to me and then stops where I stand, just before the stairs.
“Why is this place haunted?” I ask loudly. “What happened here?”
I look towards Jane and wait for an answer. She takes a deep breath and then looks around the room. After a few seconds, probably of thinking, she looks back to me with her deep, brown eyes.
“The place is considered haunted because somebody supposedly hung themselves, right here, in this attic.” She says. “Nobody ever talks about it and nobody seems to know who it was or even if it was true.”
As Jane stops speaking, I look away and down the stairs. I take several deep breathes before beginning to descend the stairs to the second floor. Jane quickly follows me. I step out of the stairway and then begin up the hallway, back towards the stairs that go back to the first floor. Jane dashes after me and then stops me. I look back towards her and take a deep, almost angry breath.
“Charlie hung himself.” I say. “I don’t know why, but, I know it was him who was hung here.”
I turn around and quickly go to the stairs. I then tromp down the stairs, as Jane follows me with loud pawsteps. As I reach the bottom of the stairs, Jane stops me once more with an outstretched hand. I stop walking and turn around to look up at her.
“What’s wrong?” She asks.
I look away and to the floor. Then I furrow my brow and look back up at her, my lips pulling backwards in a bit of anger.
“I don’t know.” I say. “I feel like I’ve been used. I figure we’d solve some atrocious kidnapping and murder, but, I find out we were just trying to figure out that somebody hung themselves.”
I look away and begin to move on once more, but, Jane’s hang grabs my shoulder again and I stop. I look back up at her, still with my brow furrowed, still angry about this whole ordeal.
“Then why is his mind preserved in a robotic body?” Jane asks me. “How did he do that himself? How does Baylor fit into all of this?”
I begin to growl and then I feel my anger begin to slip away. My brow lifts up and I close my mouth. In fact, my eyebrows go far up and my jaw drops open. I look to the ground for several long minutes before looking back up at Jane. I look to her and she begins to smile, her tail wagging once more. I smile a little myself.
“Maybe we don’t know the entire truth.” I say. “Maybe we still need to ask some more questions.”
“Yeah, definitely.” Jane says happily.
I turn my head in the other direction but, quickly look back to Jane.
“If somebody did hang themselves in this house, wouldn’t somebody know?” I ask.
“Well, yeah. I’d suppose the old man and the old woman.” Jane replies.
“Well, of course them, but, I don’t think we can talk to them. I doubt they still live in the area.” I say. “Anyone else?”
“Well, maybe the police, the hospital and probably the morgue, I guess.” Jane says to me.
“And who would know about it today?” I continue to question.
Jane looks to me and smiles. I smile in return and my tail begins to wag again.
“Looks like we’re going to have to pay Chief Kramer another visit.” Jane says.
“Let’s do in the morning.” I say. “I’ve had enough ‘adventure’ for one night.”
Jane smiles and she steps off of the stairs. I turn and begin towards the stairs that lead down into the cellar. Jane follows right behind, keeping up with my now happily fast pace. I can’t believe it. We’ve picked up the trail again. And now we know something very important. Charlie is Charlie Kingsfield, son of a once-rich entrepreneur who was to be married. Charlie will be thrilled when I tell him.