Detective Trigger: Books 1-6

by M. A. Owens

  "Who is Harvey working for right now?"

  I tilted my head. "No one. He's freelance. I'd recommend him if you're interested."

  "Do you think he'd be interested in coming to work for me? I need someone with that kind of skill here. You wouldn't believe how often forged documents land on my desk as a dog with a business as large as mine. Costs me a lot of money, too. Here, take my card. Tell him I'll pay him a sign-on bonus and tell him I'll double it if he'll start tomorrow."

  "It'll mean a lot to him. This is just the break he needs, and you can never have too many dogs and cats around you can trust."

  I delivered the card to Harvey that evening and the next day he was heading into Adria District. A few weeks after that I pulled a wedding invitation out of my mailbox.

  31

  The next few months went quickly. I bounced back and forth between Petey and Buddy, corroborating stories and helping them get their facts straight. They scheduled the trial, but because we had almost every significant person of interest in custody, along with all the physical evidence, prosecutors believed this to be an open and shut case. Kerdy was never seen again.

  I made good on my intentions to get up early and join Petey on his morning run after I gave my ribs time to heal. By then he'd already taken his exercise pretty seriously. The new look caused a change in his personality, too. Well, not so much his personality but the way people saw him. He wasn't the ironically chubby greyhound anymore. He was lean and mean. I'm kidding about that last part. I'm not sure what Petey would have to do to look mean. That would probably be impossible.

  I had a wedding to prepare for, but I'd never owned a tux in my life, so getting fitted for one was quite an ordeal. Come to think of it, I'd never even been to a wedding. I wasn't sure what I was supposed to say or do. Just two people getting married, then we all eat dinner and have cake. How bad could it be?

  Another month passed and the big day finally arrived. Harvey's luck was holding strong. He snatched up a home for sale in the Rose Garden Estates. It opened just as Rick had given him his sign-on bonus. He asked Rick if he would mind if he continued living in the Black District; Harvey wanted to stay and do good here. To help kittens and pups like him being dragged into things they didn't want to be a part of, heading down the wrong path to nowhere. He wanted to teach them how to seize the opportunities that came their way, and how to take advantage of any break they were given. He also wanted to help create some of those breaks. He intended to create something he had wanted but didn't have access to.

  Rick wholeheartedly supported the idea. He even promised a big check to get them moving once they got everything up and running. Petey got on board. He added a phone line solely devoted to helping the foundation. Someone could use it to report anonymously or just to talk. Just having someone to talk to was what a lot of these kids needed. I didn't know all the details, but it sounded great.

  They held their wedding in the large park that no one ever used in the middle of the Estates. It was nice to finally be walking down there for a positive reason for a change. I flashed my resident pass to the security guard as I was walking through the entrance. I'd gotten it a while back so I'd have easy access to work a case here, even though I didn't live in the neighborhood.

  "Oh, stop showing off, detective. You know you don't need that thing today," the security guard said. I laughed, then stopped and chatted with him for a few minutes since I was early. He gave me directions to Harvey and Priscilla's new house, and I thought I would laugh so hard that I'd end up falling onto the ground and dirtying up my tuxedo.

  Even with the chat, I was one of the first dogs to arrive. Sure enough, there was Harvey in a tuxedo and sitting on the front porch of what was once Agatha's house. After they seized the big insurance payout, Agatha had to sell her home to pay for her defense. Maybe it would be enough to get her off, maybe not. Either way, I wouldn't lose any sleep over it.

  Harvey perked up his ears when he saw me. "Trigger, you came!"

  "You didn't think I would? That hurts my feelings. Guess I'll let you away with it, though, since it's your wedding day," I replied.

  "You don't seem like the type who attends big events like this. How many weddings have you been to?"

  "This would be the first."

  "Well, I'm humbled to be the one to bring you into civility."

  He offered me a big cheesy grin and stood up out of his chair. He pointed to several glasses next to a bottle of wine sitting on a table beside him.

  I shook my head. "You're welcome, and no thanks. Believe it or not I'm getting into better shape and I wasn't as winded on this trip as I used to be."

  "Glad to hear it. How did you manage that?"

  "Been joining the lieutenant on his morning runs."

  "Oh, you mean Lieutenant Petey? He's been a tremendous help over at the foundation."

  I nodded. "He seems to like being there. You got yourself a good ally in Petey. How are you enjoying working for Rick?"

  "He has high expectations of those around him. Not surprising considering he's a workaholic himself. But he has impeccable character, and he pays me far more than I'm worth. It's really changed my life, Trigger. I really appreciate you putting him in touch with me."

  "Don't mention it. You've mostly got yourself to thank for that."

  I made small talk with everyone that came in who I knew. Petey showed up with two other dogs from the department, and we chatted about some trumped-up nonsense from the good ole days, just like we always did. Since I arrived plenty early, I walked on down to Lily's house to say hello and we spent a few minutes catching up. She seemed like she was doing pretty well for herself, same as always.

  I made my way back just in time for the wedding to start. It was a strange experience; dames crying and blowing their noses into tissues were all over the place. I'd seen less crying at a funeral. Harvey and Priscilla said their vows, and everyone was cheering, laughing, and crying all at the same time. It was some fascinating stuff. Next came my favorite part.

  We all sat at a long table and fine cats in fancy suits set fancy dinner plates in front of us. This was the good stuff. Two large salmon fillets and a heap of fresh strawberries next to it. Next to that was a nice tall glass of milk to wash it down. Gee, I wonder where this came from. Then I saw a Rick walking over to the table. He was on a cane now, walking mostly on his own. I couldn't describe how happy it made me to see him out of that wheelchair. He gave a shameless speech about how he had donated the food and refreshments to the wedding, and why those of means might consider investing in his company if they enjoyed their meal. He was a businessman through and through. It was a tragedy that everyone here didn't know him like I did. Then again, he wanted a reputation that wouldn't impede his true intentions. Still, being a dog that did so much for the city, making himself out to be just another greedy businessman was a real shame. Hopefully someday the city would find out about his good deeds, when he no longer felt the need to hide them.

  I'd just picked up my fork and jammed it into the salmon when an old dame to my left cleared her throat loudly. I looked up and noticed that no one else was eating yet and took the hint.

  Harvey stood up and tapped his glass with his fork.

  "Hello, can I please have everyone's attention? I'm sure everyone has been looking forward to the meal, and even more so now that you've seen it. I'll keep it brief, but there is a very important guest here today I wish to honor with a toast. Many of you here know me well enough to know that when I was a pup, I found myself on the wrong side of the law. My wife and I founded an organization to help young pups and kittens, much like I was once, find the breaks they need to get out. My special guest didn't know I was planning to make this toast or he may have been too embarrassed to come at all..."

  Oh no.

  He paused for a moment using his sleeve to dab his eyes.

  "This special guest is actually the one who gave me my first big break. When everyone else around me was trying to use me or send me
to prison, this dog thought I deserved a second chance. Sure, he could've been wrong. But he thought if someone gave me a second chance maybe I could make something of myself. Maybe I could turn it around."

  Please no.

  He held out his arms and looked to everyone around him. "I think you'll agree that I've done that, and more. Please give a round of applause to my friend, Trigger, who, through his selfless nature, has inspired me to be selfless and help others. Thank you, Trigger."

  Everyone broke out in applause. By now, despite my best efforts, I was leaking like those old ladies I was making fun of just a few minutes before. Harvey made his way around the table where I was sitting. He asked me to stand up, and when I did he wrapped both arms around me and gave me a big hug. After a few seconds of surprise, I returned the favor. I pulled him down and whispered, "I'm proud of you, kid."

  Then I abruptly sat down and dug into my plate as if I hadn't eaten in days, trying to stop dripping tears like a newborn pup.

  Maybe this job wasn't so bad after all.

  Epilogue

  “Yes, that amount will do quite nicely. Though, I’m surprised at your apparent reluctance,” Saint said to his speakerphone, leaning back in his chair. “I recall you being more enthusiastic about our cause.”

  “You’ve got some nerve, taking that tone with me,” snapped the female cat’s voice from the speaker. “If I didn’t believe in our cause, I wouldn’t be funding it.”

  “Sorry. You’re right, of course.” He paused, taking in a deep breath before exhaling slowly. “I’ve decided to run for Mayor.” Saint leaned forward, clasping his paws together in front of him. “I think it’s about time, don’t you?”

  “You’re asking me?” she asked, with a chuckle.

  “It’s as you said. You are funding this little project of ours, after all, so I do value your input.”

  “Do you think it’s wise to be so visible at this stage?” Her voice softened.

  “I see your concern, but we’ll have to take a more hands-on approach eventually. Simply buying off allies can only take a cause so far. That’s something Mr. B learned the hard way.”

  The line went silent for a long minute, before the female cat finally spoke up again.

  “Aren’t you forgetting something?” she asked.

  “Must you ask all these rhetorical questions?” He paused, before allowing a grin to escape his lips. “Never mind. Now I’m doing it. I assume you’re referring to what happened to Mr. B. My dear, the matter is simple. I can have that little dog put out of his misery by the end of the week, should I so choose. He knows nothing about me at the moment. He’ll never see it coming,” he said, making a sliding motion in front of his throat, as though she could see him.

  “I have a better idea,” she said. “What if we turned him into an ally instead?”

  He started laughing, but quickly stopped himself. “Hmm. Yes, you’re right. I shouldn’t laugh. Do you really think he can be converted?”

  “I’m not so sure he needs to be. I’ve heard he’s a very open-minded dog. Maybe he’s already more on our side than you think.”

  He leaned back, scratching the back of his head. “I hadn’t considered that.” He cleared his throat. “Alright. New plan. When the opportunity presents itself, I’ll have our would-be ally picked up by some friends of mine. I’ll have a friendly chat with him.”

  “You know, he isn’t going to jump on board, just like that,” she interrupted. “Even with your diplomacy skills, it’s going to take some considerable convincing.”

  “I suspect you’re right,” he agreed. “We’ll give him a couple of chances to do things the easy way.”

  “And if he doesn’t want to do things the easy way?” she asked.

  “Then we do things the easier way. We hurt him. Not my first choice, of course, but it’s effective, you must admit. Not just physically. Well… maybe a bit physically. If he doesn’t want to play ball, I’ll have my cats do some digging. I’m sure we can ‘convince’ him, one way or another.”

  “And if you can’t convince him, even with your… more traditional methods?”

  Saint gave his best impression of a knife sliding across fur, with sound effects this time, moving his paw across his throat again. “Goodbye, private eye,” he said, bursting out into full-blown laughter.

  1

  Some days being a Chihuahua private detective isn’t all that bad. You get to visit marvelous places, meet some big shot movie stars, boxing champions, millionaire business owners, along with a whole host of other possibilities. And all on the client’s dime! These are the days when you just might feel like maybe this thankless, underpaid, dangerous, second-rate, rent-a-cop business wasn’t the worst thing you could do with your life. Yeah… this wasn’t one of those days.

  I started my morning with a late breakfast at Elly’s Diner, just a few blocks down from my office in the Black District. I’d gotten up early to meet with a potential client at my office, who thought his neighbor might be up to some funny business with his garden. Over the phone he was barking about how some of his vegetables were going missing, and he swore it had to be this old feminine feline next door. Unsurprisingly, he got cold paws and didn’t show. Or maybe she was onto him and offed him in his sleep. Who knows? That’s the sort of ending I imagined in one of these cases that seem to come right out of the paper’s funny pages.

  “Could I interest you in the pancakes special, detective?”

  I was startled out of my daydreaming by a young cat in a red skirt and vest.

  “No thanks, I think I’ll have…”

  She puckered her lip, saying nothing, staring at me.

  “Okay, fine. Pancakes it is,” I said. “And a coffee.”

  She grinned and yanked the menu from my paw, skipping away. As I watched her go, I noticed out of the corner of my eye that someone else was watching me. A big black and white tabby was sitting a few tables away, looking up at me once in a while, trying to avoid my attention. He was doing a poor job.

  I finished my breakfast at the same pace I normally would, tipped the waitress, got up, and started walking. Not toward my office, though. Too many opportunities for an ambush down that way (maybe I need a new office), not to mention that’s probably where he expected me to go. No, I headed in the opposite direction. I needed to feel the situation out a little more, buy some time. Sometimes you get a little paranoid when you’ve been in the business as long as I have. Sometimes you jump to conclusions. One thing you don’t do, however, is ignore your gut, unless you wanted to end up face down in some alley dumpster. My gut was telling me that this cat was trouble.

  Sure enough, he followed me. I hoped that, with a little luck, I’d run into one of the boys in blue and could give them some subtle signal that I was being followed and to move in. Not that I had particularly thought this through. Just seemed like a halfway decent plan in my head and I didn’t like my chances one-on-one with my new admirer.

  After about ten minutes of walking, it occurred to me that he was no better at following me than he was at not being noticed. He took all the same turns I did, stopped when I stopped, and never took his eyes off of me. I continued heading toward Adria District, the wealthy part of town (the polar opposite of my district), knowing that my chances of running into some brass improved dramatically the further I went in this direction. Funny how things seem to work out that way. Follow the money, they say.

  After a few minutes of walking, I finally saw a familiar face. I knew this pooch from seeing him with Lieutenant Petey. Even better that he was in plain clothes. The first problem was that I couldn’t just yell out. That would alert my follower, no matter how dim he may be. I quickened my pace just a little, hoping to catch up to the officer before he got too far away. When he headed down an alley, I turned down the same alley less than a minute later, only to realize he wasn’t in sight. He disappeared.

  Fantastic…

  2

  The detour turned out to be a poor gamble; the onl
y choice I had was to keep walking. Problem was, my officer friend could be anywhere and I wasn’t likely to run into him amongst the many potential routes he could’ve taken. So I kept walking, my pursuer never far behind.

  I probably could’ve lost him, but I still needed to find out why he was following me. I took another turn toward Greenclaw Avenue, a neighborhood that was being improved by my pal Harvey’s charitable organization, the Second Chance Foundation. Had a nice ring to it and it really resonated with a lot of the folks around here. It was about time somebody cared about the Black District.

  There were some building materials nearby, and I assumed the police were keeping a close eye on all the copper piping and equipment. Apparently not, since they gated off the doggone entrance from this side. It wasn’t like this last week, there were guards, security, police. Now they were furloughed for a fence instead and it seemed I was in for a day of lousy luck. I reached into my trench coat to ready my trusty shock stick, a metal baton that could deliver a nasty shock if you held down the button at its base... unless it was like mine and busted, which was one thing I couldn’t blame on bad luck. Broken or not, it was still useful for clobbering a cat who picked the wrong dog to make trouble with.

  I got the jump on my pursuer as he came around the corner, but he was ready for me. He dodged the first swing and deposited his claws across my left cheek. I had to be careful with that sort of thing, given I only had one good eye that just happened to be on that side. I countered with a right hook to the gut. It connected, but to a minor effect. This was no velvet-gloved cat, and worse yet, I recognized him at this close distance.

  I helped put his brother away for a very long time for a nasty armed robbery that landed a jewelry store clerk in the hospital. The perps thought they covered their tracks, but not good enough. Dame’s husband hired me to crack the case, and it didn’t take very long. Tried to ditch their clothes in the dumpster nearby but forgot to clean out the pockets first. That led me to a place that led me to another place, and so the story goes. Made my job a lot easier now that I could depend on honest police. On the other paw, honest police were bad for the private detective business, and I was back to scraping the bottom of the barrel again.