Part 19
Our Quest : To seek for Eberts's address book
Why in the world could anyone stand such an office so small? No wonder Eberts is always standing behind the Official, a mouse would get claustiphobic in this hole in the wall.I gaze around the room, it looks like all yard sale furniture, even the computer looks like it can easily be bought off of some peddler who stole it from a warehouse that went out of business many moons ago. The only decent things are the books on the bookcase, and the two small paintings.
"Should we go in?" Darien asks looking between me and Monroe.
"Well, I see no trouble in it."Monroe answers, and slides into the office.
"We need to leave everything in the exact order we found it, -or- Eberts will kill us, especially in the mood he's in." I tell them.
"That means not to touch anything. The furniture doesn't look sturdy." Darien comments. I almost laugh at this, but it is probably true. The furniture could probably fall into a pile of twigs at the slightest sound, -or- touch. I would hate to be here in an earthquake, -or- a fire. The place would be a pile of rubble in under three seconds.
Darien and I come in behind Alex. The paintings draw me to them, and I go to admire them. One is done by a Charlotte Eberts, which it states elegantly, in big letters, his wife? That's nice, he's married, I didn't know that. It is a small piece of some orchids.I don't really see him as the arty type, so he probably hung it to make her happy. Though it is really good, Eberts does not strike me as the art type, more one of those computer geeks who plays video games all day, and watches Star Trek Next Generation, and reading scifi novels. You can almost smell the flowers though, I'll have to ask if I can get his wife to paint me a picture of flowers, maybe send it to Vivian as a wedding gift. I heard she was getting married, and I want to show her I have no hard feelings.
I move to the next painting, one of those paintings you might see in a gallery, in the style of Money, -or- Renar, -or- what ever those french dudes names are. Its nice, a scene of a castle, with a young maiden gazing down, and a knight in shiny armor rescuing her. I scrint to see the name in small block lettering. a. eberts. He didn't paint that. There is no way. I turn to Alex, carefully rummaging through his desk drawers, and Darien reading through books on the bookcase. "Eberts, isn't a painter is he?"
Alex looks up. "He is. I found that out when I was researching for people."
"Are you sure?"
She nods, and goes back to looking, "Yes, his mother, Charlotte is a painter as well. Are those one of his paintings?" She asks nodding towards the one I am looking at.
"Yep, and the one next to it is done by his mother." His mother, hmm, was Bobby Hobbes wrong for once. He is the art type, and it isn't his wife, that's weird. I must be losing it, it must be from the fact I haven't eaten in four hours. That's it. I will have to get some food soon, I am making bad guesses, and Bobby Hobbes never makes bad guesses.
"I found it!" Darien says, holding a black book, as he closes a blue book and puts it back on the shelf.
"Good, let's go, before it looks like we've been here." Alex commands. I scratch my head, this whole thing was my idea, why aren't I in charge. Oh, well, she is right.
Darien and I nod. We leave, closing the door behind us.
Our Quest : To seek for Eberts's address book
Why in the world could anyone stand such an office so small? No wonder Eberts is always standing behind the Official, a mouse would get claustiphobic in this hole in the wall.I gaze around the room, it looks like all yard sale furniture, even the computer looks like it can easily be bought off of some peddler who stole it from a warehouse that went out of business many moons ago. The only decent things are the books on the bookcase, and the two small paintings.
"Should we go in?" Darien asks looking between me and Monroe.
"Well, I see no trouble in it."Monroe answers, and slides into the office.
"We need to leave everything in the exact order we found it, -or- Eberts will kill us, especially in the mood he's in." I tell them.
"That means not to touch anything. The furniture doesn't look sturdy." Darien comments. I almost laugh at this, but it is probably true. The furniture could probably fall into a pile of twigs at the slightest sound, -or- touch. I would hate to be here in an earthquake, -or- a fire. The place would be a pile of rubble in under three seconds.
Darien and I come in behind Alex. The paintings draw me to them, and I go to admire them. One is done by a Charlotte Eberts, which it states elegantly, in big letters, his wife? That's nice, he's married, I didn't know that. It is a small piece of some orchids.I don't really see him as the arty type, so he probably hung it to make her happy. Though it is really good, Eberts does not strike me as the art type, more one of those computer geeks who plays video games all day, and watches Star Trek Next Generation, and reading scifi novels. You can almost smell the flowers though, I'll have to ask if I can get his wife to paint me a picture of flowers, maybe send it to Vivian as a wedding gift. I heard she was getting married, and I want to show her I have no hard feelings.
I move to the next painting, one of those paintings you might see in a gallery, in the style of Money, -or- Renar, -or- what ever those french dudes names are. Its nice, a scene of a castle, with a young maiden gazing down, and a knight in shiny armor rescuing her. I scrint to see the name in small block lettering. a. eberts. He didn't paint that. There is no way. I turn to Alex, carefully rummaging through his desk drawers, and Darien reading through books on the bookcase. "Eberts, isn't a painter is he?"
Alex looks up. "He is. I found that out when I was researching for people."
"Are you sure?"
She nods, and goes back to looking, "Yes, his mother, Charlotte is a painter as well. Are those one of his paintings?" She asks nodding towards the one I am looking at.
"Yep, and the one next to it is done by his mother." His mother, hmm, was Bobby Hobbes wrong for once. He is the art type, and it isn't his wife, that's weird. I must be losing it, it must be from the fact I haven't eaten in four hours. That's it. I will have to get some food soon, I am making bad guesses, and Bobby Hobbes never makes bad guesses.
"I found it!" Darien says, holding a black book, as he closes a blue book and puts it back on the shelf.
"Good, let's go, before it looks like we've been here." Alex commands. I scratch my head, this whole thing was my idea, why aren't I in charge. Oh, well, she is right.
Darien and I nod. We leave, closing the door behind us.