I awoke and stretched, and regretted it. “Ow! Shit!” Every muscle hurt. I wanted to curl up and whimper, but I kept right on stretching, no matter the pain. “Damn, those eight days of non-activity sure are telling on me.”
It wasn't until I'd worked out the worst of the kinks that I noticed Joann wasn't in bed with me. Puzzled, I sat up. I tilted my head this way and that, to work out stiffness in my neck. “Joann, are you in the bathroom?” No answer. I glanced at the clock. “Ten-thirty. Wow, I slept in over three hours.” Not at all happy Joann wasn't home, I slowly stood, sore muscles complaining, and walked into the bathroom to take care of business.
Now that I was awake and had drained my bladder I caught sight of a blaringly clean shelf that should have had Joann's brush, toothbrush, hair dye and nail clippers.
“Oh no…Joann…” I stepped out and checked our closet, and found some of her clothes gone. “Oh, Joann…” I whispered, shaking my head in grief. I put my back to the wall and rubbed my muzzle. “I didn't mean to drive you away.” I rubbed the back of my neck and looked up at the ceiling. I've a choice, I told myself. I could go after Joann, or let her alone and see how it feels to be a true bachelor once more. I closed my eyes and took a deep whiff. Joann's lingering scent played across my tongue. If I leave her alone, she could find someone of her own species and have that litter she's been wanting without having to adopt someone else's cubs.
I crossed my arms and walked over to the window. The grass lawn of the apartment complex was being trimmed by a herd of sheep. Two shepherd dogs kept track of the animals, using long staffs to make certain they didn't wander out into traffic or to guide them to a new patch needing eating. Some meters away, Mrs. Amelia Lamoree was out walking her goose. Mrs. Dorit Zachariah sat on a bench, doing needlepoint as her two kittens played around the trunk of a Hornbeam tree.
I put a shoulder to the window seal. Just because my world's upside-down doesn't mean everyone else's has to be. I glanced at our closet. She'll be back for the rest. After a moment more of postulating life without her, yet reminded by her lovely scent of what I'd be missing, I said, “Oh, hell. With her scent all over the place I can't clear my head for thinking straight.”
Dressed in blue jeans and belt, white cotton vest and a black flat cap, I walked out, heading for the park to clear my sinuses. Paws held behind my back, I meandered the wet grounds without purpose, breathing deep of the clean air and heady scent of trees, grass and mud. With no ties to work or a female-friend, the day was mine to do with as I saw fit.
I found a bench that looked as lonely as I felt and sat to take my weight of my pads and absorb the sun's warming rays. I reached into an inner vest pocket for my pipe, which I sometimes brought with me on days like this, and found it empty. Damn, I guess I'll have to buy a new one, or give up smoking. As I had no job and owed a ton of bank notes to the hospital, going without seemed reasonable. I crossed my legs, and gave my paw something to do by ideally scratching my chin.
“Braxton, is that you?” My ears perked up to my name and I turned. Joann's younger sister Clair walked up. She had concern intertwined with anger written all over her face as she sat next to me. “I need to talk to you.”
Though nearly identical in physique, Clair's coloring was a darker brown overall, making her white fur stand out that much more. Her long graceful ears matched Joann's to be nearly identical. However, sometime back she'd resented looking like a twin to her sister and had fallen prey to a tattooing artist who'd made it a fad to have the ears decorated with hieroglyphic symbols that meant she was all female. The results in my book only distracted the eyes from her beauty.
“About Joann, right?” I pressed her, trying to keep my voice even, taking note she'd added a silver ring in her left ear to advertise she was now married and unavailable.
“I want to know what you did to her,” Clair said in some heat. “She's been crying her eyes out since yesterday. Why, she didn't even go into work yesterday. And this after being at your bedside at the hospital these past many days.”
I sighed. Clair was very much concerned for her big sister. I dropped my leg and leaned forward to put my forearms on my legs. I hung my head. “I hadn't known she'd left me until about an hour ago.” I looked over at her. “I didn't.” I sat back up and slouched. “Hell, I don't know what's best for the both of us anymore.”
Clair poked me in the arm. “You best decide that quickly. I'll not have my sister pining for you. If you don't see her today, I'm going to push a friend of mine on her. He's a gentle male. He's wanted to date her for some months, but because she was with you, he held off.” Clair stood. She folded her arms and glared at me. “By tonight, wolf, or you find some other animal.” She cast her ears back before walking off.
I turned my head, allowing my eyes to follow her, and watched how her hips shifted inside her pink knee shorts as she left. I admired the perkiness of her fluffy dark brown and white tail, and how her tattooed ears rose to normal and swiveled around, keeping track of sounds about her like all herbivores did out of instinct, not out of need anymore. Even in my state of agitation, I put my paws behind my head and enjoyed the show of femininity before me and for the first time really saw how similar in body Clair was to Joann. Once she was some meters away, Clair glanced behind her to see what I was doing. I realized then what she had been doing.
She's purposely displaying her sex for me. Showing me exactly what I'd be missing if I let Joann go. The wolf in me wanted to bare my teeth at her for the reminder. Curiously enough, it also pushed the wolf in me to want to sex her up as well. I threw my head back to look up at the blue sky. Joann and I were not a perfect fit. But we were comfortable with each other. If I sought out another mate, perhaps one of my own kind, there's no guaranty she'd be any better. That decided me.
After a quick trip back to my den for that awful tie Joann had bought me, I jogged over to Clair's burrow. After a brief respite to settle my breathing to normal I climbed three levels of stairs in the apartment building. Once on the level with Clair’s burrow, I donned the white tie with the black silhouette of a very shapely, long-legged rabbit bowing slightly, blowing a kiss. If this doesn't get a smile out her… I thought as I knocked. I tried to breathe normally, yet I felt like a school youngling asking his female-friend out on a first date.
Joann opened the door, and my heart did flip-flops. She was wearing a black cotton knit negligee with threads so fine I could see her whole body, except where it counted. Her ears drooped and she lowered her head. “Oh, hello Braxton, I wasn't expecting you.”
“Expecting me?” Seeing her so-outfitted and to hear her say that, jealousy landed hot and heavy on my shoulders and I snarled, “You were expecting another animal?”
Joann's head came up quickly to my tone. Her red-rimmed eyes hardened and she set her paw on her hip and snapped, “And if I were, it's no affair of yours anymore. You made your choice quite clearly in the hospital.”
Oh shit! I didn't seek her out to start an argument. On the other paw, the sight of her near nakedness had my mouth watering. My mind disjointed and instead of reason, madness took over. My ears laid back and I snapped, “If that's the way you want it.” I yanked off the tie she'd given me and threw at her. “Fine!” I turned and ran from her. I hit the stairs and heard the door slam hard enough to vibrate.
Off the stairs and out of the apartment complex, I walked fast for about a block before I slowed and reason settled in. My face fell and my ears drooped, as did my tail. I stuffed my paws down my pants pockets and slowed to a walk.
Well, you did that right well didn't you? I accused myself. If you'd only been sympathetic and apologetic, she'd be in your arms right now. I stopped walking, and half turned, looking longingly at the entrance to her sister's apartment building. I grimaced and kept on walking. She'd never open the door to me now.
I had full intentions of dropping by a store and buying a twelve pack to sit down tonight and get hammered, but at the store I realized I hadn't any bank note
s on me. This only darkened my mood. Outside my apartment complex, I was intercepted by one of the smallest cats in the feline family, a rusty-spotted cat, decked out in a tailor-fitted blue business suit.
“Mr. Braxton Snow?”
I eyed the small but well-groomed cat, who stood all of one hundred thirty centimeters, {4'3”}. As he drew close, I caught the scent of cologne and saw how white his teeth were. This marked him as upper crust, but not an aristocrat, as he still worked for a living. Regardless of his worldly status, I grumbled on my way past, “I'm retired.”
He took a hold of my arm as I passed. “Mr. Snow, please, a word.”
I stopped and looked down on his paw and growled with my teeth exposed, “If you want to keep that arm, you'd best remove it.”
He did so. “I beg your pardon, but I really need to talk with you…”
I glared and started to walk away.
“It concerns Ms. Zoe Pierpont, Mr. Snow. She's missing.”
I glanced back at him. “Why do you think I care? She's partly why I'm retired.”
“Please, Mr. Snow. She spoke very highly of you in her notes on the case you both were on.”
That caught me. “She worked for you?”
The rusty-spotted cat pulled out a business card and gave it over. “My name is Sahaja Palan. I head up a group of private investigators.”
I read the card he gave me. If the police can't help, I can. Sahaja Palan, Private Investigations. I flipped the card and read the address. Mmm…Up in the ritzy district. I eyed him, calculating. Probably works solely with the aristocrats. Even with all their bank notes, they sometimes need things looked into. I thought of Ms. Pierpont. Yeah, I can see her working for such animals. Her looks, size, speed and agility would make her a great asset to such clientele. I sought to give the card back but he waved it off.
“So what do you want of me?”
He licked his lips. “If I read her notes right, you were also looking for Mr. Oscar Sullivan.”
I nodded. It wasn't a secret.
“I'd like to hire you to continue your search with the added note of finding Ms. Pierpont.”
Disgust rolled over my face. “Sorry, can't help. Because of her I lost my P.I. license, my gun and permit, and I owe a considerable amount of bank notes to the hospital for running afoul of the police.” Well, mostly true. I started to turn and walk away when he raised an arm.
“I can take care of all that.”
My ears perked up and I looked back at him with raised eyebrow.
“I'll hire you as an employee. I know animals who'll rush the paperwork through.”
I stopped him there. “Even prequalifying? That's a three-month course.”
Mr. Palan nodded. “Even that,” he assured me. “By tomorrow, all you'll need to do is show up at the practice range and qualify. Once done, come by the office with the certificate and you can start.”
Tempting. I grimaced in remembrance. Damn, I don't have the money to spare. I shook my head and turned him down. “Sorry, I haven't the bank notes to pay for the dummy darts for the qualifying test, let alone the range fees.”
“You needn't worry about that. I'll cover it. Just show the manager this card.” Mr. Palan gave me another card. This one was red and had his name and an account number, a group of numbers the banks used to adjust business account credits and debits. I eyed the card a moment, considering. I looked him over again to verify in my mind he wasn't a con-animal. Hmm…what would a con-animal get out of paying for all this to get me reinstated? This thought path had me reasoning Mr. Palan was legit.
“Does this include a pistol as well?”
“Anything you need. Ms. Pierpont is my best agent, and my client will not accept anything but a satisfactory outcome in this case.”
“Mmm…who's the client?”
“A concerned citizen. That's all you need know.”
I didn't like not knowing the client; that was why I worked on my own. Mmm…it's tempting. I glanced in the direction of Clair's burrow and thought of Joann. She's not about to see me now. In a day or so, maybe. Taking up his offer will solve my hospital bill. Still, I could always settle the case against me concerning the apartment building. I looked at the cards he'd given me. I could do this case to get back in the black without losing my den. Hmm, a couple of days of serious work might solve the case. If not I should have some path to follow. Then with hat in paw and flowers in the other, I could try to apologize to Joann. A win-win scenario—that is, if she'll see me. I eyed Mr. Palan.
“You pay my hospital bill and three hundred a day plus expenses.”
“My agents get three-fifty a day, and you pay expenses.”
So we're in negotiations, good. “Make it four hundred, and I'll go to the qualifying range in the morning.”
“Done.” Mr. Palan put out his paw and I shook it. He nodded and gave over some of his cards. “You now work for me. Anyone requiring our services, you give them my card. I require up-to-date notes on any case. You report in at least once every day unless circumstances forbid it. Tomorrow I'll assign you a pistol and I'll turn over all Ms. Pierpont's notes.”
“By the way, how long has she been missing?”
“Three days.” He turned to leave.
I eyed the cut of his suit as he walked away and his tail riding high. To that I rubbed my muzzle. I wonder if I could have asked for more? I shrugged. No point in being greedy. Clearing my debt to the hospital will be a great relief. I turned to my apartment building and headed to my empty den with more spring in my step and hope in my heart.
****
Chapter 8:
Mr. Nelson Plays His Card
Five in the morning came far too early, if you asked me. I only got up that early because the firing range opened at seven. As our great city only allowed the one range, by eight, it was overflowing with cadets trying to prequalify, on-the-job officers re-qualifying every six months, private eyes and bodyguards trying to pass their yearly exams, and of course, the curious who showed up simply to learn how a pistol worked. As the city received half the proceeds from everyone at the range, it boggled my mind why the city officials would not allow a second or third range.
As I'd given Tanner my rickshaw Passcard, not believing I'd need one anymore, I stopped off at an office and obtained a new one. I reached Mr. Sahaja Palan's office building by nine in the morning. Certificate in paw, I allowed my eyes to wander up the expensively-carved stone facade of the ten-story building. Most buildings in Furlton had a basic street and block address. However, if the building resided in the richer quarter of the city, like this one did, it also carried a name. I looked over the business card given me and matched the name. “Wilmar Knapp. Yep, I appear to be in the right place.”
The fabric canopy over the doorway covered a door bear. His outfit of black pants, belt, black shirt and black vest would have been totally lost on his black fur save the outfit was lined in white stripes where every seam came together. With white-gloved paws, he reached to open the door for me.
As I approached he said politely, “Welcome to the Wilmar Knapp, sir. Just inside the lobby to the right you'll find the business listings.”
I nodded thanks on my way in. The lobby was larger than any I'd come across and very richly decorated. Of course, none of my past clientele were ever made of bank notes for me to have visited such an establishment. However, I would say Ms. Catharine Nelson came close. She wasn't high-high class, but more likely middle-high class, if I had to guess. Regardless, here I was. A look at the business card and the directory showed Sahaja Palan's office was up on the ninth floor.
A ride up the elevator put me into another lobby, though smaller. Before me stood another directory. My pads took me down the left side then right about halfway down the hall to Mr. Palan's office. I opened the glass door and was met by a receptionist at a desk in a small waiting room. The pretty young Owlet took my name and announced me to my new boss via walky-talky. While she did so, I noted she had a pin board with
thirteen names and corresponding pins indicating whether the named animal was in-house or out. At a glance I saw eight were already in-house.
“Mr. Palan will be with you shortly, Mr. Snow.”
I nodded.
She put down the black box and moved a pin at the bottom of the list from “out” to “in.”
So I'm already listed. I don't know whether to be insulted that I was a given, or impressed with the efficiency, given we agreed on a paw shake. Either way, I wasn't given time to pursue the thought as Mr. Palan came out and extended his paw.
“Good morning, Mr. Snow.” Sahaja Palan gestured at the doorway through which he'd just appeared. “Please, this way.”
Through the solid wooden door he indicated, I was met with fourteen cubicles, one office, his, with name and title, and one storeroom.
“As most of my employees are almost always out on jobs, save in the morning, like now, you'll meet them in time. For now, however,” he led me to a cubicle near the storeroom, which already had my complete name on a name plate on the outside wall. “This will be yours. As you can see, it has all the basics to start. Anything else, check the storeroom first. If it's not there, check with me. I'll either have the item added to our stock or tell you it's part of your expense.” Mr. Palan stepped into the office space. “Here is Ms. Pierpont's case file, as promised.” He bent and opened a locked box. “Inside, you'll find a pistol already signed out to you.” He dropped the key in my paw. “All darts and CO2 cartridges are your expense.” Lastly he pulled open a top drawer in the desk. “Here's your new business license as a private detective that shows I'm your employer. Your pistol license and four hundred bank notes as agreed to get you started.” He looked me in the eyes. “I'll leave you to go over Ms. Pierpont's notes.” He stepped out and pointed at a covered carry case. “By the way, all case notes are to be typed up on a typewriter.” He considered something a moment before he said, “It would help if it's done daily, uh, for such an occasion as this.” That's when he left.
Braxton Snow P.I. (The Snow Adventures Book 1) Page 12