Lost items? Now that just so happened to be one of Tim's specialties. "Black leather case? Yeah, hold on, I can find it," he said, and promptly zoned out. At least, that was what it looked like. His eyes went unfocused and he tilted his head slightly, but only for a moment. Almost as soon as it had happened, he shook his head (resembling nothing so much as a dog shaking off water) and looked back to his new acquaintance. "It's about twelve feet behind you, half under those long drapes over the window." His tone was matter-of-fact, secure in the knowledge that he was right and the case would be right where he said it would.
He shook Kieron's hand and nodded at his introduction. Okay, so what did he know about this guy? Not a customer --he'd admitted that himself, was looking around the back halls of the mansion ostensibly looking for something he'd misplaced, and his name was Kieron. That still didn't rule out the possibility that he was here for a legitimate reason, but somehow Tim was beginning to doubt that. Which in turn begged the question: why was this guy here, then? The warmth of his hand, warmer than that of the average person, could be an answer. From what he was told, certain supernaturals' blood tasted different and could fetch a nice price. But why wouldn't he go to the madams, instead of just walking around?
Tim was easily distracted by his internal monologue of questions, and didn't notice anything until he heard Kieron swear. "Oh, whoa, are you all right? What's the matter?" he asked, all courtesy and concern as he reached out for Kieron's shoulder. Not only was he dealing with a stranger, but now said stranger was in some kind of distress. What a day this was turning out to be.