“That theory would hold if it weren't for the door in this room also being locked. I noted Juan here used a key to get in.” Ms. Nelson looked ready to refute my perception, so I superseded her position. “Before you argue more, consider these facts. If your uncle were accosted, the likelihood of him being forced out still holding the missing book is very remote. Abductors are prone to make certain their mark hasn't anything to fight back with. Also, if he were forced in here to get that book, Mr. Sullivan would hardly be allowed to sign in on the clipboard. No, Ms. Nelson, I'm afraid the current scene doesn't support an animal-napping.”
Ms. Nelson stared at me for a moment, after which her ears flattened as she crossed her arms in defiance. “Well, it matters not what you think. I know he was animal-napped and I intend to prove it so I can get the police back involved into finding my uncle.”
It was my turn to be surprised. With a raised eyebrow and ears swiveled to her I asked, “Back involved? Are you telling me the police have stopped looking for him? But why?”
Ms. Nelson looked at the other two before she huffed. “My brother, of course. I found out he had that damn fennec fox cancel the investigation the same day I reported my uncle missing.”
“Mr. Uchi, you mean,” I clarified.
Ms. Nelson laid her ears back and answered with teeth showing. “Yes.” She looked into my eyes. “I only found out he'd done so a few days later when I inquired as to what they'd discovered. When I heard the investigation had been declined by request of my brother, I inquired as to who was their best investigator. And he, uh—”
“Lieutenant Barkly,” I supplied.
“Yes him. He said his paws were tied, but he knew of a P.I. who didn't always follow the rules yet was good at his job.” She gave me a look of disappointment. “Apparently the lieutenant was wrong.”
I ignored her jab to rub my chin, working out the events. This explains the delay in police involvement. After Ms. Nelson's second visit, Lieutenant Barkly sent in a courtesy detail, probably guessing Mr. Nelson would once again cancel any investigation. How and why he knew this is another question. I looked at Ms. Nelson. “So if Lieutenant Barkly gave you my name, what took you so long to ask for my help?”
Ms. Nelson looked guilty by the shift of her eyes and a twitch of her tail. “My school year started up. I had to pour over my studies to get placed in the college courses I wanted this year.”
“Well, that answers that,” I said with a sweep of my eyes to included Ms. Sundell and Mr. Sosa. “Regardless of what you may think of me, I'm going to follow my nose until it's proven wrong.”
Ms. Nelson dropped her arms to her sides and looked at me in puzzlement. “Why would you continue to look for my uncle when you're not getting paid?”
I passed my eyes over all three animals and saw Juan's dark blue eyes looked mystified, Ms. Sundell's hazel eyes were thoughtful, and lastly, Catharine Nelson's reddish brown eyes held challenging stubbornness. “Although that will be a factor in what I'll be capable of investigating, the fact is, I'm lacking work at present and while I wait for a paying job, there's no harm in looking into a matter that lacks real criminal involvement.”
Ms. Nelson's ear twitched. I knew by other body movements she didn't like my reasoning. However, I'd just said I'd look for her uncle, and as no other animal was…a thought passed through her eyes which I saw. She turned to Ms. Sundell and motioned with a finger for them to get closer. Ms. Nelson spared me a glance and leaned into the snow leopard's ear and whispered.
I eyed the snow leopard's black spotted white tail as it went from a simple movement of back and forth to a mischievous twitch, a telling sign the two were up to something. The two separated, and Ms. Nelson touched her green-tinted nose, cleared her throat, and said, “Kaia, you know, I just realized you recently had a birthday.”
“Why yes,” Ms. Sundell answered in what was clearly an act. “Just last week. It's nice of you to remember.”
Ms. Nelson eyed Juan and used her finger in a circling motion. “Juan, would you be so good as to turn around?”
The oncilla looked curiously on the fox and snow leopard while Ms. Nelson brought up both her paws to the top of her dress. I could only imagine he derived a misconception of what Ms. Nelson was about to do. As I had not been asked to turn around, the oncilla gave me an envious smile as he did as asked. Ms. Nelson glanced at me, pulled on the elastic of her dress top so she could get her other paw in between her breasts and bra to withdraw a bundle of notes. I speculated the fox hadn't ask me to turn around as she decided to put our disagreement aside to better flirt with me, possibly to entice me to keep her around as I looked for her uncle. Of course I could easily be wrong; after all, Ms. Nelson had no problem gaining her bank notes in this same manner back in my office last night without blushing. Regardless of the fox's reasons, she took out the notes and spent only a moment to count out five hundred and placed the rest back in the bra below the dress's neckline.
“You can turn around now, Juan,” Ms. Sundell said with a smile.
Juan did so, quick-like, in hopes of catching a glimpse of Ms. Nelson's breasts. Eyes only for her, his face gave off disappointment briefly to find her properly covered before he found her paws holding the notes.
Ms. Nelson cleared her throat once more and said to Ms. Sundell, while she looked at Juan, “I know this is a bit late, but here is a belated birthday gift.” She gave over the bank notes to the snow leopard.
Ms. Sundell pressed her right paw to her white t-shirt in fake surprise. “Why, thank you, Catharine. That's awfully nice of you.”
Juan scratched his head, looking on.
I, on the other paw, having already figured out what was about to happen, folded my arms with a smirk on my face, knowing Ms. Nelson just circumvented her brother's legal document.
Ms. Sundell made it a point to count out the notes so Juan would see and hear. Ms. Sundell winked at Ms. Nelson and turned to me. “Beg pardon, Mr. Snow, it occurs to me it would be bad manners on the part of Mr. Sullivan's students to see you do all this work without any compensation whatsoever.” The snow leopard looked at Juan to make certain the oncilla was watching as a witness. “Therefore, I wish to donate these notes in aid of helping you find Mr. Oscar Sullivan.”
To make the issue perfectly clear to Juan, Ms. Sundell and Ms. Nelson, I asked before accepting the notes, “Am I being hired to pursue the whereabouts of Mr. Sullivan or is this a donation as a 'Thank You' for my time in investigating his disappearance on my own?”
“As I can't afford such a luxury on a student's income, consider this a donation,” Ms. Sundell said.
“Then I accept, and thank you.”
Ms. Sundell gave me the notes, which I folded and stuffed in my pants pocket.
Juan looked between us and I saw the instant he realized what Ms. Nelson had done reflected in his eyes. Juan might be slow, but he isn't stupid.
Ms. Sundell noted this as well, and raised a lone finger against her lips in an age-old request to be silent about how this transition came about.
“Well, gentle animals.” I slapped my paws together. “As I've gained all I can here,” I announced, not meaning the notes. I looked at Ms. Nelson. “Would now be a good time to look into Mr. Sullivan's study? That is, if he has one in your den, Ms. Nelson.”
“Please, Mr. Snow, call me Catharine.” She smiled up at me.
“As you wish.” I glanced at the snow leopard and the oncilla as a thought occurred to me. “So tell me Catharine, does Mr. Sullivan have an office in your den?”
Catharine smiled.”Of course he does.”
“Great.” I turned to Juan and Ms. Sundell. “It would be of great help if the pair of you came along as well, that is”—I looked at Catharine—“With your permission.”
Though Catharine's eyes showed puzzlement, she nodded.
Juan asked, “What do you need us for?”
Ms. Sundell's lips curled in mild irritation and she slapped the Ocilla's shoulder. “Quiet.”
/>
Juan jerked to the rebuke, rubbing his shoulder.
I half smiled. “No, Ms. Sundell…”
“Kaia, if you will.”
Again I smiled. “No, Kaia.” I nodded. “Juan's question is relevant. As you two are acquainted with Mr. Sullivan's...” I sought a more polite word than obsession. “Let's say hobby, it's likely you'll see something I'd miss.”
“So what do we tell Mr. Gatura?” Mr. Sosa asked to another slap on his shoulder from the snow leopard, evidently a playful expression of denouncing his words or actions Kaia had grown used to making.
“The truth. Though mildly edited.”
“How so?” Catharine inquired.
“We tell Mr. Gatura that at present it doesn't look as if Mr. Sullivan was animal-napped. What did happen has as yet to be revealed, however, it appears a book is also missing and it's quite possible his disappearance and the book's disappearance are part of one event.”
Juan's eyebrows lowered in thought. Catharine's ears drooped and her tail twitched, looking as if she still wanted to argue her uncle was animal-napped.
To stall any further debate with Catharine, I motioned with my paws we should get going. “Remember, this is simply my opinion. Until I'm proven right or wrong, it's what I'm going with. As for any thoughts you have, I'll not denounce them, as in truth anything is possible.”
****
Chapter 4:
A Room of Clues
We all caught a rickshaw outside the museum. After forty minutes, we turned up a street of well-to-do dens. After disembarking a little more than halfway up the street, I looked at a decorative two-and-a-half meter {8'9”} wrought iron gate and rock wall that stood before a five-bedroom den. Apparently, I mused, Ms. Nelson's brother is doing real well, or came into it through the death of their parents or even by the uncle. Either way, by the looks of the place, Catharine could well afford me and four to five other private investigators.
Catharine used a key to unlock the gate before a spacious, eight-meter-wide {24'} front yard along the length of the den. We stepped beyond the gate and rock wall. Springs forced the gate to lock behind us. I could tell Juan and Kaia had yet to visit Catharine at her residence by their wondering eyes of awe. Catharine, accustomed to such looks, led us up along a fine white gravel pathway to the white brick two-story den. At the decorative door that had a relief inlaid of a father, mother and two kits, my sensitive nose picked up the old lingering scent of an animal with the same scent I'd concluded to be that of Mr. Sullivan.
Mixed in with his scent were others, of course. However, there was one newer scent that seemed out of place. One which my memory and nose told me had been present at the museum. But where? This had me taking a deeper whiff of the lingering odors, and with that, I had it. This animal held the clipboard and had been in the drawer of the missing book back in the document room. I eyed Kaia and Juan; though both seemed familiar with Catharine, neither had ever been here to her den, I was sure of that. This led me to surmise Mr. Sullivan never brought any of his students here either. Which begged the question why this scent was present. Could my theory of the crime be wrong? Could Ms. Nelson's suspicions be right? My questions led me down two roads. If Mr. Sullivan was animal-napped, why is the animal-napper here? Could Mr. Sullivan have stumbled on an artifact that was worth a lot of bank notes? Perhaps Mr. Sullivan was being difficult in revealing its location so the animal-napper had come here to acquire Ms. Nelson as leverage. I gazed upon the façade of the front wall. Of course I could be over thinking the matter. The scent could belong to a colleague. An animal who'd come by earlier and picked up something. Like an itch you can't scratch, I considered caution would be prudent.
“So tell me, Catharine, has your uncle ever invited anyone from the museum to visit him at home?”
Catharine had by now changed out her gate key for her den key and eyed me. “No, never, why do you ask?”
The hackles on the back of my neck stood on end and I clamped down on her arm a moment before her key hit the lock. “By any chance is your brother at home?”
“Not likely.” She laid her ears back. “My brother's a workaholic. Unless an illness requires hospitalization, he'll be at work until twenty-one hours tonight.”
Instincts born in my younger days demanded separating the lingering smells around the door, specifically the scent of gun oil on my paw pistol and that of the oil used on the door. I signaled all to silence with a finger to my lips and took two deep whiffs, which found a third oil scent mixed with the new animal scent. This brought two possibilities. Mr. Avery Gatura sent someone to pick up museum supplies Mr. Sullivan may have borrowed or a dangerous thief and/or animal-napper was behind her door, and given a colleague had no need of a gun, I had to assume the worst for everyone's safety.
“Please, allow me…” I motioned for the three to back up as I relieved Catharine of the keys. I drew my own weapon, activated the CO2 cylinder and flipped off the safety. Their looks of surprise and worry fell into the back of my mind as I worked the lock quietly and held my pistol at my leg. Gently, I pushed in the well-oiled door and peered into the revealing entranceway decorated mostly in white with black accents to give the eyes some contrast to understand the room. Nose working overtime, I let my olfactory categorize the scents that invaded my nostrils as I sought the intruder I was sure had been or was still present.
Again I indicated to the three behind me to stay put outside with a raised paw. I worked my way to the closet in the hallway on silent pads, where after another squared-off opening, I had a choice to go either into the living room in front of me or take a short walk to the kitchen on the left, hidden behind swinging redwood doors. Another option open to me was the first floor relief center on the right side beyond a circular staircase going up. A long and drawn-out whiff of the circulating air told me the intruder had spent some moments in front of the study but ultimately took to the stairs.
A newly familiar scent had me turn my head to see Ms. Nelson a few steps behind me, eyes wide and paws nervously holding her tail before her. This in turn led me to Juan and Kaia, both in the doorway searching the interior with nervous eyes that took in the splendor of the foyer. I wanted to yell at them “What the hell are you doing? Get back!” but such would alert Ms. Nelson's uninvited guest and probably be useless, as I was sure youthful curiosity and a morbid fascination of the unknown was egging them on to follow me.
With little choice in discouraging them from further stupidly, I spared them a quiet snarl and bared my sharp teeth while I flatted my ears in a look that meant serious business. Juan and Kaia took the threat as it was intended and backed out of the doorway. Ms. Nelson, however, stiffened up and replied to my silent request with her own look that said, “This is my house and I'll go wherever I please in it.”
I rolled my eyes and considered for her safety a well-placed dart would put her to sleep and out of harm's way if any action was required on my part. But the sound of Ms. Nelson's indignation to my action would undoubtedly alert the uninvited guest. Wishing for some alternative to dissuade her from following, I had to abandon the time it would take. I was wasting enough time standing there while the air system in the den circulated our fresh scents throughout the place.
Without a choice in the matter, as I wanted to question whoever was here, I ascended the carpeted stairs, sliding my left paw along the inside mahogany rail until able to see the next level. A glance and sniff told me the animal had unerringly turned to the closest door two meters {6'} away on my right, ignoring the hallway of four other doors to my left.
The door being closed will be a problem. I sought other avenues for access. Any animal adventurous enough to commit an unlawful entry should have keen hearing to worn of possible discovery. My hearing had certainly saved me a time or two. A glance behind me showed Ms. Nelson four steps behind, which meant a frontal approach was my only option if she wasn't to get run over by the fleeing intruder. Grimacing, I pulled back the hammer slowly under my left paw to muffle the
sound and padded quietly up to the door. I leaned an ear close to the wood to establish if any sounds of movement could be heard. A sound did filter through the wood to my ear but not a quiet one meant to maintain secrecy.
“Damn!” I said under my breath, understanding I'd been made somehow. I tried the door lever and found it locked from the inside. “Shit!” I said aloud and stepped back to give the door a strong kick under the handle. The doorjamb splintered, allowing the door to slam against the inner wall. On quick pads I darted in, pistol held for a target, but none presented themselves. A scuffle outside the window revealed a grapple and rope supporting the weight of someone descending the wall. I flew to the open window in time to see an arctic fox dressed in dark pants and a gray blouse hit the ground running and scurry across the lawn. I noted in some envy her quickness and professionalism in that she wasted no time in looking back, but pulled out a second rope and grapple from a satchel off her arm and neck and readied it to ascend the rock wall to make her escape. I eyeballed the distance and knew it to be already beyond any accurate shots from my pistol. I drew in my head, turning to sprint after her, but Catharine stood in the doorway right in my path.
“Damn-it all!” exploded from my mouth. I'd have to plow over her to have any chance of catching up with the arctic fox. Without a choice, as I had to move, I uncocked the hammer to my pistol and shoved the gun in the holster as I took up the rope and forced my larger size out the window to descend after the arctic fox. One meter {3'} down the side, the rope meant for a lighter animal snapped at the grapple and I found myself free-falling five meters {16'} to the ground. Able to turn enough to hit the ground pads first, I twisted into a shoulder roll to minimize any damage to my bones by spreading it out over my frame.
The tactic worked in that I didn't break any bones, but I let out a howl, as it hurt like hell. Had I been ten years younger I would've gotten up regardless of how I felt and charged after the fox; however, I was older and heavier, so instead I fell back on the grass, thankful I hadn't landed in the thorn bush centimeters away.
Braxton Snow P.I. (The Snow Adventures Book 1) Page 6