Detective Trigger: Books 1-6

by M. A. Owens

  I had never sprinted so long before without stopping. My head felt like it had boiling water poured on it and I was panting loudly. My legs were amid a full rebellion. If I survived, maybe I'd have to consider joining Petey on his daily run.

  Whatever thought I had of allowing the rebellion to succeed, it had to be forgotten. I could hear clanging ahead. It didn't sound like jumping and grabbing this time. It sounded like two metal weapons hitting one another, exactly as I'd feared. As I ran, I kept getting closer to the sounds. I was right. Lady had caught up and forced Rick into a fight he had little chance of winning.

  After a couple of unfortunate wrong turns, I finally caught sight of them. It turned out Rick had, in fact, knew how to use that sword. And at first glance he seemed to hold his own, but a quick look at their surroundings told me otherwise.

  This alley was no narrower than the others, but it was walled off at the end. An awkwardly turned dumpster all but sealed off his retreat back through the alley. In close quarters, strength wins.

  I spotted my opportunity for an entrance and wasted no time taking it. There were crates stacked at various heights beside the dumpster, and the lid to the dumpster was closed. I charged forward, suppressing the urge to growl and bark. I leapt upon the first crate, then the next, and finally made one last big jump to make it to the top. I managed three big steps to build up speed before leaping onto Lady's back. I had aimed for the neck, but her senses were exceptional. She heard my launching step and, while still blocking Rick's sword strike, she leaned ever so slightly, giving me her shoulder instead. At least she wasn't able to dodge completely. I bit through her raincoat, sinking in my teeth as far as possible. The taste of blood told me I had found my mark. I gouged my shock stick into her ribs and struggled to engage the button. In the same moment I found it, she knocked it away, all while parrying Rick's sword thrust.

  She grabbed me with her left paw and attempted to rip me from her shoulder, but despite feeling like my head was about to pop off like a doll's, I hung tight. Rick took advantage of the opening, landing a well-placed thrust to pierce her left shoulder with his blade. She leaned into the thrust after it connected, burying the blade deeper but trapping it at the same time.

  She let go of me to grab the blade with her paw, gripping it tightly. So tightly and so quickly that Rick could not withdraw it, and it didn't slide to cut her paw. I released my hold as well and scrambled to my weapon. She reversed her grip on the bar in her right paw, letting the point face the ground, and in a swift motion brought it towards Rick's sword, shattering the blade near the hilt. Rick stumbled back, and she kicked him hard, sending him clear into the wall behind him. Once I had my shock stick in paw, I hit the button and the horrible crackling noise that followed was music to my ears. I was still on all fours, and when I half turned to stand I saw Lady with her weapon held above her head, about to bring it down on me. The next few seconds played out as though the flow of time had nearly stopped.

  The backward movement of her weapon stopped and at the moment it came down, Rick jumped over to shield me. The bar struck him in the back. Just after it hit him, I dove out from under him, leading with my shock stick still engaged and landing squarely into her ribs. The electrocution was enough to make her drop her bar onto the ground. Unlike everybody else I'd hit with this thing, she somehow still had some control over her muscles. Rick struggled to get up, failing on his first couple of attempts. She brought her paws down slowly to my neck, wrapping them around, gripping slowly but tightly. I felt the pressure inside my head rising as if the whole thing would explode. I didn't know if that would happen first, or if my throat would be crushed. My vision was fading, and I slipped off the button with the stick lowering to my side.

  As everything was almost dark, Rick finally made it to his feet. Using all of this strength and momentum, he fell into a powerful strike with the hilt of his sword into the side of her head. She plummeted to the ground, but still wasn't completely out. Close enough. I hit the button again, but it failed. Must've been damaged when it hit the ground. Rick grabbed me and pulled me toward the other end of the alley. I realized after a brief moment that he had a better grasp of the situation. Lady was already squinting, trying to get her bearings. If we would get out of here, now was the time, and there was no time to lose. He threw aside the hilt and picked up the sack holding the statue, pulling me along. After rounding a few corners, I was helping him more than he was helping me. My strength was returning as I got more air back in my lungs. He leaned into me more, and his steps were uneven. As we exited the alley, he picked up a bottle off the ground near a garbage bag. There were two cats leaning against the wall as we made our way into the open. They cast us a worried glance at first, but Rick held up the bottle in greeting to them and grinned wide, slurring his hello. We were just a couple of lost drunks, nothing to see here.

  Once we were out of sight he threw the bottle away and we made it the rest of the way without being seen. A large area around this building was his property after all. He knew where the security was and knew all the hidden nooks and crannies. We eventually made our way inside the building to his private vault. I locked up the statue and he had me help him get out of his costume and back into his normal clothes. Under his shirt was a metal plate that was strapped onto his chest and back. I understood now how he survived, but also why everyone else she'd hit with that thing didn't. The thick metal had a dent in the back that ran along a line. To put a dent in a piece of metal like that... I couldn't imagine the force required.

  By now Rick wasn't able to stay on his feet without help. Even though the plate saved him, I still worried about lasting damage. I'd seen no one take a blow like that and walk away from it the way he did. How many broken bones did he have? Were his organs damaged? A flood of guilt washed over me. I'd dragged him into this.

  "Help me into the library," he muttered.

  "Bad time to read a book, don't you think?" I tried to play it cool, but I was certain he'd see through the act.

  "There's a railing next to the bookshelves, and a ladder I use to reach the top shelf. Falling off that ladder on the rail below would probably cause a similar injury. You'll leave me there for my assistant to find me in the morning."

  I tried to pull him toward the exit, but he resisted. "You're going to a hospital."

  "No, I'm not," he stated. "I'm staying in the library until the morning. I appreciate the concern, Trigger, but you need to trust me on this."

  I felt lousy. He was in this sorry state because of me. Then again, I was in bad shape too when he got me involved in taking down Mr. B and he had his goon, Marty, rough me up. I knew he never meant for me to get hurt, just like I never meant for him to. Didn't make me feel any better about the whole thing though.

  "Fine, you win. Are you sure you'll be all right?"

  "Look, if the police find out who I am I'll lose everything. A few hours of pain is a small price to pay. Besides, I'm sure I'll pull through, and we have that statue now. Go celebrate."

  "Sure. Real funny."

  He strained out a grin. "You'd better get going. If I'm lucky, one of my security dogs will hear you slam the door on the way out and come check it out."

  I walked over to the back exit of the library where we'd entered earlier. As I reached for the door, I felt an extra twinge of guilt just as I grabbed the handle.

  "Hang in there, pal," I said before shutting the door behind me.

  23

  The next morning I met Fernando at the Swindler's Den. There was something different about him. I couldn't put my finger on it, but I didn't like it. No, not different. The problem was he was exactly the same. Not that he wasn't usually like that, but considering he'd just lost the statue and Lady might be after him, I expected a little more emotion. I'd seen a lot in my career, but I was still shaken up and I was sure anyone could see it. Not Fernando, though. He was as cool as a Siberian Husky in a blizzard.

  "Well, Mr. Trigger? It seems Rico made off with the statue and ke
pt it for himself. Such are the ways of a thief of his renown. The error was mine for underestimating his true nature, not his for doing that which comes naturally. Maybe he'll cut you in on it, I don't know. No need to defend yourself. It's done. Besides..."

  It looked like I would have to interrupt him to get a word in. This speech of his might've gone on forever.

  "Okay. Slow down. Don't you think you're jumping to a few conclusions?"

  "Mr. Trigger, the only conclusion that matters doesn't require my jumping to it. I'll spell it out for you. The two of us are standing here and I don't have the statue. Someone else has it. Now, as I've stated, I have my opinion on the matter, but it hardly matters. At the end of the day, I still do not have the statue in my possession."

  I scratched my head. Sure, I'm a private detective. It's my job to think deeply about how an event transpired and how one thing leads to another. So maybe I'm a hypocrite for thinking it, but these white-collar criminals overdo it with the postmortem analysis.

  "Regarding the facts, you are correct. However, don't you think the speculation is at least a little important? Are you going to give up on getting the statue now?"

  At last I'd teased out a bit of emotion. If you would consider mild irritation in the form of a scowl to be an emotion.

  "I think I should adjust my expectations. Thanks to that little exchange last night, Lady will probably never agree to meet with me again. Not that it matters much because Rico is likely the one who has it now. If he didn't bring it to me, he probably had a client who offered to pay much more."

  "That's why I say you should consider those unknowns. They matter more than you think."

  "What do you mean?"

  I never realized how much this little back room in the Swindler's Den looked like a police interrogation room. All you could see was a couple different shades of brown. It wasn't like some kind of VIP room. There was a plain round table in one corner, and a slightly larger square table on the opposite side. It was in the middle the other day. Makes me wonder what this room gets used for regularly. Considering the resemblance to a police interrogation room, I didn't really want to think about it. Maybe I should think about it since I kept finding myself here. Was there more to Fernando and the Swindler's Den than I realized?

  "Mr. Trigger?"

  "Hmm?"

  "What do you mean?"

  I wasn't necessarily sure what the benefit would be in getting him off one false conclusion and putting him on another, but something told me I needed to take his focus off Rick. He'd had enough on his plate already.

  "So, for a dog of her size and strength, what was your observation of Lady's speed?" I asked.

  He tilted his head, seeming equally puzzled and intrigued by the question.

  "Her speed?"

  "Yeah, her speed. How fast she was."

  The scowl quickly returned.

  "Detective, I know what speed means, I'm just not sure why it matters. Are you implying that Lady caught up with Rico?"

  "I don't have to imply it. When I noticed how much faster Lady was than what I was expecting, I knew she'd end up catching him. So, I ran after them."

  He laughed out loud.

  "You what?"

  "I chased after them."

  "And here everyone thought I was the one with an excess of bravado. You're lucky to be alive. What would possess you to do such a crazy thing?"

  "For one, if I could get the statue while those two were in a struggle, then it would mean thousands of dollars for me. That kind of money can set a dog up for a long time. Especially in the Black District."

  He rested both paws on the table, leaning in toward me and giving me one of those halfhearted smiles. The ones where you're mostly just pushing your bottom lip into your top lip. The smile you make when someone tells you a sad story and you're feeling sorry for them.

  "Detective, you expect me to believe you put your life on the line for the money? An upright citizen like you? As much as you may try to hide it, you're the hero type. The hero type will risk it all for a lot of things, but not money. Want to try that again?"

  Everyone makes a misstep now and then. I should've known he wouldn't buy the greed angle, even though I seldom shied away from a chance at some extra dough.

  "Fair enough. Thing is, I didn't really want to see anyone else get killed on account of this statue, even if it was a scoundrel like Rico. Though, I don't think I prevented that."

  He narrowed his eyes as if he'd already decided he wouldn't believe what I was about to say.

  Fernado's eyes went wide. "You're saying Rico's dead?"

  "I'm saying I think he is, not that I know it. I heard some banging ahead of where I was and by the time I got there they were gone, and there was a sign of a big struggle. Pieces of the wall broken out, crates turned over, and the smell of blood. There was no body, no statue."

  He nodded slowly.

  "Fascinating. So, you really don't think he made it?"

  "Do you think Rico could take her one-on-one in a fight? I'm sorry, but there's just no way," I said.

  He gave himself a slight push off the table and paced around for a moment, pondering my story.

  "Lady doesn't seem to be the type to take prisoners. In the attack on that cat, the one who authenticated the statue in the first place, she didn't leave a body then either."

  "And when I almost caught her after she murdered Constance she didn't have time to take the body and still escape without being identified."

  "All right, you've convinced me but Rico's a legend of sorts. It's a little hard to accept that we're dealing with an assassin of this caliber. Perhaps I've gotten in over my head. What if she's able to figure out I was the one behind Rico trying to steal the statue in the first place? That I had double-crossed her?" Finally, wisps of fear made Fernando's voice waver. Hopefully he was convinced, but then again, maybe I was the one being played.

  Word would surely spread about Rico's demise given the circumstances. Maybe the time was right for Rick to hang up the mask for good.

  "So, are you finally ready to back off the statue for now? You could lie low for a while."

  "I'll admit, I'm torn between having another go at the statue or just trying to stay alive. Seems I may be forced to choose one or the other."

  "And you still find this to be a difficult choice? Amazing," I said, rolling my eyes.

  "Yes, I find it to be a difficult choice. Just in case I haven't made myself clear, I've made it my life's work to collect these beautiful and valuable works of art. In all the city, the Grand Gobbler is the most beautiful and the most valuable. It has the most cultural significance. Surely you understand me, detective. You enjoy challenges in your line of work when they have a large payoff. Solving the mysteries and bringing all the bad cats and dogs to justice. You took down Mr. B, the single most prolific criminal in the city's history. Surely you risked your life many times along the way to reach that outcome. Can you at least understand that?"

  He had a point. "All right, fine. I get it. Why don't you lie low for a while and give me a heads up if you hear anything else about the statue? I think our goals are still aligned. You still want the statue, and I still want to take down Lady."

  He grinned. "Seems I was wrong about you, detective. When we first met, I thought we had nothing in common. But, at the very least, we have one thing."

  "Oh? What's that?"

  "You and I don't know when to let things go. When to walk away."

  I laughed. "Guess you're right."

  24

  I resisted the urge over the next few days to check in on Rick. It would pay to be paranoid. The way I figured it, someone may have seen Rick and I together and suspected his identity. Lady might've been able to catch up and see where we went. It wouldn't be hard to make the connection. But Rick was only one thing on the ever-growing list of gears turning my mind.

  After waiting a few days, I dropped by his office. I even called in advance to make an appointment. At first the secretary
told me he wasn't seeing anyone today, but I overheard him asking who called. After hearing it was me, he told her he was feeling better and would take a few appointments.

  When I went in, it looked as if everything was normal. Rick was sitting at his desk, and nothing looked out of place. You would have guessed nothing had happened. At least, not by looking at him from where I was standing.

  "Come in, detective. Close the door behind you and lock it. I prefer we not be disturbed," He said

  I stepped into the office, closing and locking the door by me. I walked over and slumped down into the chair across from Rick.

  "How are you? Did you go to the hospital?" I asked immediately.

  He laughed. Rick never missed an opportunity to make light of any situation, no matter how dire.

  "Yeah, I went to the hospital. Luckily, one of my security dogs found me after you slammed the door. It wasn't hard to convince him that the sound he heard was me falling. Looks like there's two cracked vertebrae and a lot of swelling. If I hadn't worn that armor I'd be dead." He grinned, as if he'd just come up with a great joke. "Or maybe losing the extra weight the armor added would've given me enough speed to have gotten away without a scratch. You can never know what the outcome of things like that will be. You just have to bet big on how you think they might go. If I'm being honest, neither bet would've paid off if you hadn't shown up when you did. I owe you a major debt of gratitude, Mr. Trigger."

  I held up of my paws. "Okay, that's enough of that. Last thing we need is both of us getting emotional. What would your secretary think?"

  He nodded and pushed himself away from his desk. Only his chair moved with him. He neglected to mention earlier that he was in a wheelchair. I shot to my feet.