Kennel Club

by Geonn Cannon

  Ari stepped through the doors and into the alley. The van was just two steps forward. To her right, the way blocked by a linebacker in a police uniform, was the street. Ari closed her eyes and took a deep breath of fresh, clean air. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up. Suddenly her skin felt tight, every muscle tense. It was the same tug a dogwalker felt just before little Fido dashed after a squirrel. It took everything in her power not to make a break for freedom.

  Not now, Ari thought.

  “Keep moving, Willow,” one of the many cops around her ordered.

  Ari ducked her head and continued forward. She climbed onto the van, took a seat next to the prostitute, and folded her hands between her knees.

  “Keep your head up,” the prostitute said.

  Ari managed a smile. “Are you going to tell me it’s not as bad as it seems?”

  “No. I’m going to tell you that you’re nowhere near the hard part yet. You start hanging your head now, there’s people who are going to make sure it stays down. So head up.”

  “Right.” She sat up straighter. “Thanks.”

  “Mm. Gotta look out for each other. Who else is gonna?”

  Ari looked out the window. “Actually, I’ve got people.”

  The other woman said, “Well, good luck to them. And to you.”

  “Thanks.”

  The linebacker got behind the wheel and, moments later, they pulled out of the alley and onto the street. Ari moved closer to the window and craned her neck to look up at the sky. She didn’t know how long it would be before she had another chance to enjoy the sight, and she wasn’t going to waste it.

  Chapter Three

  A lifetime of courtroom dramas had trained Ari to expect something ostentatious and theatrical about the arraignment. In reality, the courtroom was about as extravagant as the DMV. She was directed to a row of chairs with uncomfortably hard cushions. As she sat down she noticed the chairs’ frames had male and female hooks on either side of the seat. They were built to interlock with their neighbor so none of them could be picked up and used as a projectile. Somehow that, rather than the bars and handcuffs, was what really drove home the fact she was a prisoner.

  Judge Welker was a tired-looking bald man who sat forward on his chair, elbows resting on the edge of his bench, looking like a grandfather who was perusing the menu of a restaurant he didn’t particularly like. The bailiff would approach the row of chairs, say a name, and the prisoner would stand up and move to stand at a table in front of the judge.

  Ari looked at the spectators and spotted her family. Dale looked like she had gotten some sleep, which was a relief, but her mother looked annoyed. Gwen caught her looking and winked, almost making it look convincing. Ari responded with a half-smile which fell as soon as he saw the cap of slicked-back blonde hair sitting a few rows farther back.

  Cecily Parrish had changed into a black blazer with white piping. She was staring, unblinking, at Ari and smiled when they made eye contact. She raised one eyebrow and Ari looked away.

  “Willow,” the bailiff said, “Ariadne.”

  Ari stood and reluctantly moved into position. Judge Welker had moved one hand to his temple, using the other hand to keep his place on the page as he read.

  “Ariadne Willow.” He looked up at her. “Do you have counsel?”

  She could feel Cecily’s eyes burning holes in the back of her head. “No.”

  “We could appoint someone if you like. You’re entitled to have someone speaking for you at this hearing.”

  “I...” She resisted the urge to look at her mother. She knew if they pulled up someone from the public defender pool, she had no doubt Cecily would step up for the prosecution and bury the poor sod. “I think no, not at this time.”

  Welker seemed disappointed but not surprised as he lowered his gaze back to the file. “Okay, then. Miss Willow, you are charged with aggravated assault, domestic violence, resisting arrest, and murder in the second degree. How do you plead?”

  “Not guilty.”

  Welker made a mark on his page. “On the matter of bail. Mr. Snider?”

  A man Ari hadn’t noticed was standing at the far end of the table answered. “Your honor, the defendant was also accused of murder six years ago...”

  “I was cleared of those charges,” Ari said.

  Welker looked at her. “Yes, Miss Willow, but in cases like this, the charges themselves have a certain weight to them. Continue, Mr. Snider.”

  “In that instance, the defendant successfully eluded the police and fled. She tried to run this time as well. I believe this proves her to be a flight risk and, to that end, we recommend denying bail.”

  “My job is here,” Ari said. “My girlfriend, my mother. I’ve never lived anywhere but Seattle. Where would I go?”

  For a moment, he seemed to consider it. “This says you’re a private investigator.”

  “That’s right.”

  “You work with the police a lot?”

  “Um. Occasionally.”

  Welker sat up straighter and then let his shoulders sag again. “I know a lot of cops. They’re good people. But at the end of the day, they’re human. They might look past their badge and help out a friend. Given your history with evading the law, the fact you attempted to do the same thing when you were arrested this time, and the circumstances of this crime, I have to go with the prosecution and deny bail. You will be remanded to custody until your trial.”

  Ari put her hand on the edge of the table. She knew it was pointless to fight or argue at this point, but she also couldn’t just surrender.

  “Please return to your seat, Miss Willow,” Welker said.

  She felt someone standing next to her and she allowed herself to be guided away. The next prisoner was brought up and the routine began all over again. Ari saw Snider, the prosecutor, return to the gallery and bend down next to Cecily. Ari wasn’t the best lip-reader in the world, but she could tell Cecily told him, “Good job.”

  She looked to her mother for an emotional boost. It backfired when she saw Gwen was sitting alone; Dale had vanished. Ari felt herself flinch and blinked away the sudden moisture in her eyes. She tried to mouth a question but her lips were shaking too much for it to be useful.

  Gwen didn’t look away. She held her daughter’s gaze, lips pressed tightly together and eyes steely. Ari hadn’t seen that look in her eyes since wolf manoth and the war with the hunters. Gwen lowered her chin and raised her eyebrows. When she was sure Ari was paying attention, she very carefully mouthed: “I will take care of her.”

  Ari said, “Thank you.”

  Gwen winked. Ever since Ari was a child, her mother had lacked the ability to properly wink. She would close both eyes and then open one while tilting her head to the side. It was absolutely adorable and, even given the circumstances, Ari couldn’t stop herself from smiling. Gwen smiled as well and blew her a kiss, then put her hand flat against her chest.

  Ari faced forward. The prostitute was awarded bail and began making arrangements to pay it so she could go home. She looked at Ari as she was led away. Ari nodded to her, grateful someone was getting a happy ending, but the other woman quickly looked away. She was scared. And Ari realized she had every right to be. Ari was just a stranger who had been denied bail on her second murder charge. Who wouldn’t be scared?

  In the gallery, Cecily Parrish stood up and picked up her briefcase. She looked at Ari one last time before she turned and walked out of the courtroom.

  Ari knew she had a good team watching her back. She knew her mother, Dale, Diana, and anyone else they could enlist would fight tooth and claw to free her.

  But right now, at this moment, she couldn’t help but feel like the war was over and she had lost spectacularly.

  #

  Dale hated herself for retreating. The walk out of the courtroom made her feel like a coward, like she was turning her back on the woman she loved. But she knew Ari would need her to be strong and knew she wouldn’t be able to give her that. Sh
e didn’t want Ari to look to her and see devastation. It would shatter whatever resolve she had. So she hurried out into the hallway, one hand over her mouth to keep any sounds of distress from breaking free, and made a beeline for the ladies room.

  The floor and half the wall were faux marble, with off-white tile stretching to the ceiling. Dale went to the sink and jabbed her hands under the faucet until it finally deigned to spray water into her palms. She let a small pool gather and then splashed it onto her face. She’d always scoffed when she saw people do that in movies, but it was better than just crying. And she had to admit, it felt pretty damn good. She did it again and pressed her fingertips against her eyelids.

  A toilet flushed. Someone joined her at the sink, hands were washed.

  “Are you okay, sweetie?”

  “No,” Dale said, “but thank you.”

  “Do you need--”

  “No. It’s okay. Thank you.”

  The woman left. Dale went to the paper towel dispenser and pulled one free, pressing it flat against her face. Her hands were trembling but at least she didn’t feel like she was about to start sobbing. She breathed in the dry, somehow scratchy odor of the towel and then lowered it. She looked in the mirror and saw that Cecily Parrish had silently entered the bathroom and was standing behind her.

  “I realized,” Cecily said, as casual as if they were already deep in conversation, “that I’ve been giving Ariadne all the power in your relationship. I’ve been telling her to make choices which will affect you both. So in the interest of equality, I want to make you the same offer. I will free your girlfriend if she closes Bitches, breaks up with you, and comes to work for me.”

  Dale kept looking at the mirror instead of the actual woman. “Oh. That makes sense.”

  “I knew you would see reason.”

  “I kept thinking, what could be worse than going to prison? Now I know. Working for you. That must suck, huh? Ari would rather go to jail than have you as a boss? I can’t say I blame her.”

  Cecily stepped closer. “Miss Frye...”

  Dale turned around. “You seem to think I’m a damsel in distress. That Ariadne is my superhero who has to swoop in and save me. You’re wrong. Ari is a wolf, but I’m a fighter. Especially when someone I love is in danger. Do you know how Ari and I met? Three kids were harassing her and I jumped in and scared them off. I did that. I saved her. Just like I’m going to save her now.”

  “Are you going to kill me, Dale?” Cecily asked mockingly.

  “You took everything away from me. Without Ari, without Bitches, I have nothing but time on my hands. You’re my life now, Cecily. I don’t think I could kill you. I’m just being realistic there. But I can certainly make your life hell. ‘Cause you know what you’ve never realized about our agency?” She leaned in close enough that Cecily’s perfume was almost overwhelming and lowered her voice. “Bitches is plural, you fucking cunt.”

  She put her wet hands on Cecily’s shoulders and pushed her away. She stepped around her and left the bathroom, her sorrow and helplessness hardening into anger as she strolled back toward the courtroom where Gwen was waiting for her.

  “Where did you go?” Gwen asked.

  “I had to grow some ovaries. Is Ariadne still in there?”

  Gwen shook her head. “They just took her.”

  Dale slipped her arm around Gwen’s elbow. “Then let’s go. We have battleplans to draw up.”

  #

  Back in the van, Ari again felt the wolf struggling for control. She took slow, calming breaths and focused on maintaining control. The sun fell across her face as the driver pulled out of the garage. She mentally apologized to the wolf and hoped it understood what was about to happen. Canidae could usually go four weeks without transforming, although it became harder and harder to hold back the wolf closer to the deadline, but that was under normal circumstances. If it felt trapped and cornered, if it didn’t understand what was happening, it could lead to something tragic.

  I need you to be good, she thought. I let you run a little bit yesterday. I wish I’d known that would be the last time for a while, but you need to be patient.

  The King County Correctional Facility was downtown, a normal-enough building on Fifth Avenue, innocuous among the other high-rises on the dangerously sloped streets leading to Elliott Bay. Despite living her entire life in Seattle, Ari’s stomach still dropped a little when the van turned and seemed to roll straight down like a roller coaster. She was sitting close enough to the front that, through the windshield, she could see a little sliver of blue water directly ahead. Then the van turned off the street into a garage and the view faded along with the sunlight.

  Ari allowed herself to be guided, escorted, and moved from the garage and deeper into the building. She gave her name yet again, and was taken into a little room with an older female guard. The woman reminded Ari of a TSA agent, someone who was going to do the same exact thing five hundred times over the course of a week and was eager to just get it over with.

  “Strip,” the woman said.

  Ari began undressing.

  “Huh.”

  “What?”

  “Nothing. You’re fine. Just most people are a little more squeamish about getting naked in front of a stranger.”

  Ari was already down to her underwear. She placed everything in a bin marked with her name, using the conversation to ignore the fact she was abandoning all her things.

  “I don’t have a problem with nudity. And you’ve probably seen so many naked women that it all just blends together for you.”

  “Ain’t that the truth,” the woman said. “Okay, cheekbones. You made it easy for me, so I’ll do the same for you. Maybe we’ll even end up friends.”

  Ari turned around and put her hands on her knees, grimacing in anticipation of what was about to happen. “Yeah, I’ll put you on my Christmas ca-haaah-rd list...”

  When the search finished, she was given a white T-shirt, underwear, an orange jumpsuit, and bedding. She also had to give up her shoes, trading them for a pair of plain white sneakers.

  “Through the door.”

  She took her new belongings into the next room. Two men in pale blue uniform shirts were sitting at a table behind a laptop. “Name.”

  “Willow.”

  “Put down your things, hold this, stand in front of the wall.”

  The wall was marked for height. She stood on the line and held up the placard.

  “Look here,” one of them said. He tapped a key on the computer, and the other one pulled a sheet from the printer. “Step forward.”

  Ari did as she was told. The one who hadn’t spoken pulled something from the printer, attached a clip, and held it out to her.

  “Keep that on you at all times.”

  “Yeah, if you don’t know I’m a prisoner, you might let me go home.”

  “Funny,” the talkative one said without emotion. “Move. Next.”

  Ari retrieved her bedding and left the room. She found herself in a hallway with two elevators and a guard stationed in front of each one. The male guard gestured for Ari to line up with the other prisoners against the opposite wall. She rested her shoulders against the bricks and closed her eyes.

  “First time?”

  Ari looked at the woman next to her. She was young, black, and seemed to be genuinely curious. “Yeah,” she said. “You?”

  The woman smiled and rested her head against the wall, looking up toward the ceiling. “Second time for me. First time was when I was a kid. Possession. State finally changes the law so we don’t have to worry about having a little weed in our cars, and they find some other nonsense to run us in for.”

  “What did you do?”

  “Forced entry, assault, grand theft auto.”

  Ari raised an eyebrow. “I’m sure it was all a big misunderstanding.”

  The other woman grinned. “I’m Elise Gilpin.”

  “Ariadne Willow. Apparently I’m in for murder.”

  “Damn. Glad I mad
e friendly before I found that out. I’ll stay on your good side, killer.”

  The last prisoner came through and joined the line. The male guard sighed and stepped forward. “Listen up. I’m CO Burke, this is CO Eades. If your first name begins with A through M, you’ll come with me. First name N through Z, go with Eades.”

  Ari and Elise lined up in front of the elevator with one other woman. The other line had four women. Burke waited for them to get into the car before he joined them.

  “You will be living on the fourth floor.” He consulted his computer. “Gilpin, you’re in bunk 4-1C. Weiss, 4-2E. Willow, 4-1J. One means you’re on the first level, two means you go up the stairs to the second level. Are we clear?”

  Ari and the other women nodded.

  The elevator doors opened and Burke stepped out, motioning for them to follow. The main floor was a common area with several round tables. There were ten cells on the lower level, another ten on the second level, and an elevated room shaped like a tower in the far corner. Ari could see two guards behind the most-likely bulletproof glass. The cell doors were solid, not barred, with a rectangular pane of glass that reminded Ari of high school classrooms.

  A half dozen women in khaki uniforms were seated at the tables, others had been lounging in their cells, and a few more had been walking down a brightly-lit hallway that branched off from the main area. No matter what they were doing, however, everyone’s attention was captured by the arrival of the elevator.

  “This is Level 4, ladies,” Burke said. “Make yourselves comfortable. You are all probably going to be here for a very long time.” He made a grand sweeping gesture to indicate the room.

  “Welcome home, inmates.”

  Chapter Four

  For all her big talk, Dale didn’t have any sort of plan to go after Cecily and save Ari. She spent the drive back to Gwen’s house explaining everything they had been through with Gilles Girard and Moreau, even though she had to admit she didn’t think she knew the entire story. GG&M was a law firm which, according to Ari, wasn’t particularly choosy about the clients they represented. Cecily Parrish had destroyed Ari’s testimony in court and then offered her a job as the firm’s in-house investigator. It was during her probationary period that Ari discovered Cecily was a succubus.