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   Chapter 12 Brownie Oxford and the Idlewild Incident

Brownie Oxford and the Idlewild Incident: Brownie Bk 2 By Valerie Gaumont Characters: 11666

Updated: 2018-03-07 14:38


Chapter 12

The next morning instead of going on a run, I turned on the television, pulling up the local news as I made myself a spinach and mushroom omelet for breakfast. Sure enough the arm had been found. I winced as I heard that it had been one of the stroller pushing nannies. I had been hoping for one of the many after work joggers as there were no children involved. The blonde haired, blue eyed girl was interviewed about her grizzly find. While I was certain it was a traumatic episode there was something about her demeanor that seemed thrilled to have the spotlight focused on her. It made me feel a little better about causing the trauma.

The cameras showed various segments of the scene, mostly of a large section of the cemetery and the area just outside, surrounded by yellow police tape. As the footage moved around the scene, not really showing much except the officials hard at work, the on-air reporter provided the facts. The hand had been found about three hours after I left it. I smiled, pleased with myself as the reporter described the finding.

Apparently a neighborhood dog, Bruno, a canine known for escaping and running through the neighborhood, had been chewing on it when the nannie, named Lisa Lawson, walked by with her stroller, pushing baby Jeremy and walking a terrier named, of all things, Toodles. Toodles decided Bruno should share the treat and Lisa was trying to make sure a doggie bloodbath did not occur when she noticed the contested prize was a human hand.

Her screams woke Jeremy, who promptly screamed his little head off, the dogs barked and someone called the cops while others rushed to the park to see what was going on in their quiet little neighborhood. Idlewild seemed to have nicer neighbors than most of the places I lived. While I was confident that Christa, Matt and Noah would come to my aid if needed, I was fairly certain my old neighbors would have either called the cops or yelled at me to shut up rather than coming over to offer assistance.

"And Bruno is apparently taking the fall for uncovering the corpse, " I said pleased with the situation. "Plausible and realistic." The story was the news story of the morning and as I ate my omelet I followed the progression of the story since its mid-morning break. It had everything, murder most foul, gory details and a terrified blonde.

"All that's missing is someone needing to go into the basement to check on the generator, " I said to myself. "And maybe a thunderstorm." The news promised on-going coverage and showed their roving reporter standing outside the cordoned off area. In the background I saw three men in black suits join the forensic folks in protective jumpsuits. My heart nearly stopped as I saw them. Two of them looked like a matched set. The third, while dressed the same as the others, stood slightly apart. Even in government issued clothing, Swift stood out.

I felt my vision swim and realized I was holding my breath. I took a deep breath before I blacked out. A voice in my head told me to run. In fact, it was screaming the word over and over again. It took everything I had not to listen.

An old thought broke in as I was trying to remember why running was not a good idea. Oddly, it was a memory of Swift, silencing the screams. We had been someplace we shouldn't have been according to international law, questioning someone we shouldn't have been questioning. The fact that he was five days dead was the only reason he w

It was mostly unnoticeable, even without the makeup I now wore over it. The scar was less than the width of my pinky and certainly less noticeable than many of my other scars. They were yet another reason I wasn't going swimming anytime soon. The scars were more of an identification than my curls were, after all I went jogging in long pants but went swimming in a swim suit, more of my skin on display.

I tried to remember the first lesson in the books sent with me by the Matheson Family. It talked about the first time a child of power, which I assumed was me or someone like me, called the dead. I sort of skimmed that part, but I thought I remembered blood being involved. At some point I would have to go back and do some further reading once I was certain no one was going to rummage through my apartment.

"So I suppose Kelly was good for something, " I told myself as I turned back to the task at hand. "Who knew?"

Around lunchtime, I stopped, made myself a sandwich and turned on the noon news broadcast. It was a rehash of the earlier footage and information with nothing new added. I flinched when I saw Swift, but could tell it was just a replay. Instead of a cooking segment, one of the local zoo keepers brought in a ball of fuzz for the anchors to coo at and comment on. It was some sort of jaguar, according to the man who held it.

The comments were rather inane and somewhat vapid. I was fairly certain the zoo keeper thought so as well, but he and his assistant put on polite smiles and tried to interject some facts into the situation. One of the reporters seemed obsessed with giving the animal a cute name and the zoo staff's smiles became rather fixed as she exhorted the at home audience to vote on names for the 'little fuzzy-wuzzy'.

"Next time, bring a tarantula, " I suggested to the flinching Zookeeper Josh as I turned off the television. I finished my sandwich and returned to working on my coat, vowing to sit through the evening news. "Maybe I could work on my tatted lace while I do, " I told myself. "That way I could at least get something productive done while watching, " I said. From the advertisements I saw during the noon broadcast a segment on how laundry pods may become safer was in my future. "Hopefully they will cover why they aren't safe now, " I told myself.

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