“How did you know about Charles Montgomery? Did you research my background?” I demanded.
Timothy fidgeted, look over at me, then away out to the grass. “Of course, Penelope. I have everyone I encounter investigated. You, especially, since I knew that we were going to become intimate.”
“Intimate?” I gasped.
“Close might be a better word to use with you, but I hope that one day you trust me enough to lower your shields so that we can become intimate in the other sense of the word.”
“Fore,” yelled a golfer who’d strayed overly close to Timothy’s residence.
“Back away,” Timothy yelled at the man, shooting up. “This is private property, and according to the Clubs’ rules, golfers must maintain their distance.”
The golfer said nothing, but he picked up his ball and sped off.
“Does that happen a lot? I mean, golfers invading your property with flying balls?” I asked curiously.
“There is a net between the greens and my house. A ball could not get through, but golfers are still told that they must stay away from residences. I believe the rule is fifty feet. That man seemed closer than that. I imagine the camera will record his golf cart number and report back to the golf office. The penalties can be severe.”
The golfer had seemed surprised at being called out. He’d turned and given Timothy the finger, but he had retreated.
Timothy nodded as if following my thoughts. “Such gestures, as the one he just made, are also automatically reported. Silver Springs is big on cordiality. I imagine that this fellow will get docked a couple of thousand for his disregard of etiquette.”
“Whoa. I guess, I better make sure my fingers don’t wiggle wrong. It’s not just my feet that are uncoordinated,” I said, laughing.
Timothy turned to look at me. “You, my dear, are entirely safe. The club would never dare to challenge one of my guests.”
“Because you’re a pooka?” I exclaimed, then immediately looked around to check that no one was close enough to have heard my outburst.
Timothy chuckled. “No, Penelope. Because I donate money for their many causes. Intimidation is not an overly productive procedure. Benevolence and consideration go further, not that I practice such traits purely for the avenue of their success. I believe in kindness and what I call soul charity.”
“Which means?” I asked, intrigued by the tidbit of new information he was releasing.
He sighed. “I suppose the closest explanation would be the passion for feeling. When someone is hurting, it forms an imbalance, a red alarm for a pooka. It is in our nature to guide such inequities back into a more even distribution. Of course, I can’t solve the world’s problems, only those around me, but I assume that the ripple widens into something soothing for humanity in general. To think otherwise might throw me into internal chaos or despair.”