The next week or so were some of the most frustrating days of my life, as I spent most of my time raiding the Good Detective home office, shuffling through phone books and old case files trying to find the whereabouts of the one person who would be truly helpful to my cause. On this particular day, Lynne had come to visit, but this time she also brought the Valiant Doggie, Missile, along. Due to a certain incident with a stray lawnmower about a month ago, I had managed to re-establish a connection with Missile and was able to talk to him freely in the spirit world. I was glad for someone on who I could ease the burden of my mind.
"But I don't understand," said Missile, looking up at me as I scaled the filing cabinet. "Why is this Mr Twister going around hurting these people?"
"I don't know," I replied as I tried to pry open a drawer. "Lynne and the others don't seem to know either."
"Maybe Mr Twister was angry with them."
"Well, Lynne and the others seem to think that the Twister has never met these people before he kills them – he picks them off at random."
Missile was quiet for a while as he thought about this. "Was there really no Core on the man there?"
"Yeah, at first I thought I might've lost my ability to return to four minutes before a person's dea-whoops!" I nearly slipped here, "a person's death. But the next day I found a bird that had flown into a window, and I was able to go back and prevent its death just fine."
"That's strange."
"I know, so then I went to the city morgue, and tracked down all the other victims in this case," I continued, climbing to the top of the cabinet. "Not one of them had a core."
"Maybe they were just dead too long?"
"The first guy I saw had only been dead six hours, but I wanted to make absolutely certain. So I checked all the other bodies there, and ALL of them had cores."
"Really?"
"Yeah. The older bodies seem to be missing their souls, but even then there's always a core." I Tricked the cabinet lock open and began sifting through the files with my paws. "The only exception being the victims of the Twister. That can't be a coincidence."
"And what about that ghost ya saw?"
"I dunno, I haven't seen him again."
"He was the ghost of the dead man that was there, right?"
"Maybe, but I can't say for certain." By now I had reached the last of the papers, and I still hadn't found what I was looking for. I slammed the drawer shut in disgust. "Ugh! He's not here either!"
"Can I help you look for him?"
"Well, that's great of you to offer and all but… can you read?"
Missile hung his head silently for a few moments, and then gave out a yelp, "When did you learn to read, anyway?"
"I've taught myself over the years," I replied awkwardly.
"I wanna help Miss Lynne! It's not fair!"
"Well… Kamila's mother thinks I'm just making a mess when I'm in here – perhaps you could keep a watch out, give a yelp if she's coming, maybe distract her?"
"Oh yeah! I can do that easy-peesy!"
"Thanks Missile, I was really starting to hate that broom."
I finally found his name among the Good Detective's files. I hadn't seen my Old Friend, the Man in Red, in over a year, or ten years, depending how you look at it. Well, not since that one night that changed our fates, anyway. Truth be told, I had always hoped our paths would cross again one day, but I had hoped it to be under better circumstances.
I had decided that it would be best to remain in my physical form for this meeting, due to the strong emotions that were likely to be brought up. As a result so the trip took longer than usual, I even got run over by a bus at one point, but the Temsik fragment within me meant that this was merely a minor inconvenience.
I eventually arrived at the apartment complex where he lived. I sat outside for while, trying to think of a way to let myself in when I heard a rasping hiss from behind me. I turned around and found myself face to face with a huge ginger tomcat, a huge scar in place on its right eye. Behind him were half a dozen or so other cats of various shapes and sizes, but all of them looked as vicious as the next. My feline instincts told me that the body language of these cats, especially the ginger tom, said one thing very loud and clear – we're bigger and stronger than you are, and you're in our territory.
Well, I didn't come all the way out here to start fight! I don't think I'd ever made such a mad dash for freedom. But my body was still that of a tiny kitten, while these alley cats where all fully-grown, and I found that they were gaining on me at an alarming rate. I knew I couldn't be killed or injured but still, it was an unpleasant situation.
I was running so fast I guess I didn't exactly where I was going, for I eventually ended up crashing into a bicycle, getting myself tangled within the spokes of the wheel and knocking its rider to the ground. Unable to move, I could only watch in dismay as the ginger tom leapt at me, its fangs bared in a snarl and its claws ready to slash.
That's when a rolled-up newspaper flew out of nowhere, knocking the ginger away from me. I looked in the direction the newspaper to see who had saved me – a young woman, with long black hair tied into two thick braids, providing a frame for her large brown eyes.
"You picking on others again, Outlaw?" she scolded. She gave another warning swing of the newspaper. "Go on, shoo!"
Never mess with a lady swinging a newspaper. Outlaw and his cronies turned tail and ran. As they left, the woman knelt down towards me and took me gingerly in her arms. She brought me up close to her face, so our noses where almost touching.
"Now what is a little fellow like you doing out here all on your own?" She opened the top buttons of her jacket and slid me inside, and pulled the jacket back over me to keep me warm. "You can home with me, ok?"
While I appreciated the sentiment, I was panicking slightly since I needed to get to his house, but I relaxed a little when she headed into the apartment complex where I knew him to live. I was figuring how to make my escape when the woman spoke again.
"I know I promised not to bring home any more strays," she said. "But you look like you have a home, so I'm sure Yomi won't mind letting you stay until your family can come get you."
Yomi? I knew that humans would often refer to each other with shortened versions of their names as a way of expressing familiarity with one another. Could this woman possibly be referring to him?
It just got spooky when she got off the elevator on the exact same floor as his. But then she stopped in front of the door bearing the number of his apartment, reached into her pocket, and took out a key. I realised, as she opened the door and walked inside, that this woman could only be one person.
She sat down on the couch in the middle on the room, took me out from under her jacket and began to check me over.
"Well, you don't seem to be hurt in any way," she said. She ran her delicate fingers on the red scarf tied around my neck. "Someone's probably missing you about now. Let's see if you have an identity tag…"
She found it, and studied it for a moment with those deep brown eyes of hers. She was silent for a few moments before she spoke again.
"So your name's Sissel, then," she smiled kindly at me. "Isn't that funny – that's my name too."
He wasn't there when the Fiancée invited me into their home, so I had a look around while I waited for him. It was a modest studio apartment, quite unlike the suburban home of the Good Detective and his family. The furnishings were simple and bare, and it pained me little to think of him living in such meagre circumstances. But the Fiancée didn't seem at all bothered by her surroundings, and turned out to be the most gracious hostess, treating me to a dish of warm milk for which I really appreciated.
"It's a shame, really," said the Fiancée, as she sat beside me, "I'd like a little kitty like you, but the policy on pets in this building is so strict."
This small talk was interrupted when the phone suddenly rang. I was surprised when the Fiancée refused to answer it, giving it nothing more than a quick glance and waited until it rung out.
"Anyway," she continued. "I'm sure your family must be missing you terribly by now –"
Once again she was interrupted by the sound of the phone. She got up, irate, and practically tore the receiver from its handle.
"Hello?" she said as calmly as she could manage, but I could see she was angry. "Hello? Who am I speaking to, please? What do you want?"
There was a tense moment as she held the receiver to her in silence. Finally, she gave a sigh of frustration and hung up.
"Some people," she muttered. "Don't they have anything better to do?"
Looking back at it now, I really should've used my Ghost Powers to trace the call, as it would have saved so much heartache in the long term. But I was focused too much on the reunion with my Old Friend, and I honestly had no way of knowing the terrible consequences of my error.
From then on, things went on without any incident and I must admit I thoroughly enjoyed the attentions of the Fiancée. Finally, at around 10 pm, the door was unlocked from the outside and it creaked open. I strained to catch a glimpse of him – that same red suit, those dark glasses, and that shock of blonde hair.
The Fiancée's reaction was pure joy, as she shot up from her chair and rushed toward him.
"Yomiel!"
I swear she could've knocked him right over, the way she threw her arms around him. He laughed, removing his sunglass as he returned her embrace, revealing his fierce blue eyes.
"Everything ok while I was gone?"
"Yes, of course. Oh, I've got some smoked salmon ready; just let me serve it up…"
"You know what," Yomiel grabbed hold of the Fiancée's arm and pulled her close towards him. "I don't feel like smoked salmon tonight…"
"Oh. Well, in that case there's the curry from last night…"
"That's not what I mean…" he lent in, nuzzling her on the neck and wrapping his arms around her.
The Fiancée's face went bright scarlet and she tried to wiggle free. "B-but…! What about dinner…?"
"Not hungry…" was Yomiel's reply, slowly sliding his hand up her thigh and beneath her skirt.
At this point the Fiancée stopped resiting, and Yomiel leaned forward and placed his lips upon her own. Still locked together in this manner, the pair made their way towards the couch, and the Fiancée fell back into the seat with Yomiel gently lowering himself on top of her.
I could see where this was going, and quite frankly I didn't have the time for it. I leapt up on the arm of the couch and bent down close to Yomiel's head, and mewed into his ear. He jumped up with a yelp of surprise and fell off the couch, landing head first with a thump. I admit I felt a bit bad for ruining the moment for the two of them, but I had important business to attend to.
"Wh-what the hell?" Yomiel sat up and rubbed the back of his head.
"Yomi!" the Fiancée got down from the couch and knelt down beside him. "Are you all right?"
"I'm ok, but," he turned his glance towards me, "Sissel, the landlord warned us about taking in strays."
"Oh, he's not a stray, he just can't find his way home," she picked me up and brought me over towards him. "Here Sissel, this Yomiel, my husband."
Yomiel's eyes widened as he heard my name. "What'd you just call him?"
"Sissel, that's what it says on his tag. Isn't that cute how we have the same name?"
Now was my chance. I entered the Ghost World and reached out to Yomiel's Core, which had remained with him from that Fateful Night.
"Hello, Old Friend," I said to him. "It's good to see you after all this time."
"Si-Sissel?" Yomiel replied in shock. "I don't understand – y-you're not dead!"
"Yeah, I got hit with the Temsik fragment that day, so I was able to retain my powers."
Yomiel was quiet from a few moments. "It's great to see you again," he said, "but, uh, your timing was pretty bad."
"Sorry about that, but I had no choice. I'd like to say I came here on a social visit, but the truth is I have an urgent favour to ask of you."
"Well, uh… I'm not sure I understand."
"You and Detective Jowd are the only humans to remember what happened that night," I replied. "But the act of preventing your death meant that every other death that night never came to be, so Jowd's core is gone and I can no longer speak with him. But right now he and the others are working on a very hard case, and they're getting nowhere with it."
"And what, you did find something?"
"Yeah, but it's not something I can show them myself. Please Yomiel, I need you to contact Jowd and repeat to him what I'm about to tell you now…"
I left out certain details, such as the Twister's methodology, mainly because the Good Detective already knew this information. I simply told Yomiel what to be known – the victims of the Twister lacked cores, and for some reason there had been a ghost with Powers of the Dead at the last crime scene. Yomiel listened patiently as I told him my story, and then I returned to my body.
"Yomiel?" the Fiancée looked at her husband with concern. "Yomiel? Are you all right?"
"Huh?" Yomiel looked towards his wife.
"You zoned out there for a second."
"Oh, uh, just tired I guess."
"I bet you haven't eaten anything since breakfast this morning."
"Well uh," he looked a little sheepish, "I had a bag of pretzels and some juice at around lunch time…?"
The Fiancée shook her head. "You're not going to help at all us if you keep over doing it." She got up and headed for the kitchen, "C'mon, I'll warm up that salmon."
Yomiel got up to follow his wife, shooting me a quick look as he did. My heart sank as I saw the worry on his face. This was the second reason I had held so much back from Yomiel. He had finally escaped the darkness of the past, found his light, and I wanted nothing more than for him to be happy with his new life. I felt a deep guilt for having come and interrupted Yomiel's quiet happiness, obligating him to get involved in something so terrible. Yomiel was the only human I knew who had a Core of the Dead, and unless I could think of an alternate means communing with the Good Detective, I feared that I might risk causing Yomiel serious harm.