Fraudulent Death, Draft 01, CH 15 (Patreon)

Marlot grinned as he entered the office. He picked up Jesdan’s recent scent and didn’t even feel like prying into what Hela’han and her boyfriend had been up to before he arrived. He was too happy.

The evening hadn’t been perfect, Trembor hadn’t told him everything that was troubling him, and more than once Marlot had wanted to ask—demand—he tell him everything, but he’d managed to put his need aside and envoy the delicious meal. Afterward, they moved to the living room, where they caught the last ten minutes of the Survivor Experiment.

Marlot didn’t remember that the next show had been, by then he and Trembor were making out on the couch, then on the floor, climaxing to explosions from the screen. Then it was in the lion’s bed, slow but still passionate, and against this morning, almost making Marlot late.

He sat at his desk as his pad beep the five-minute reminder. He booted up his system, connected his pad, and placed the call. His computer’s screen displayed a ‘we will be with you momentarily’ message. He took off his jacket and straightened his shirt. He chuckled and felt silly. This was just—

“Marlot,” the jaguar said, smiling. “Right on time.”

His ears heated up, but he kept them from folding back as he stopped adjusting the shirt. She’d seen him drunk, half undressed and dancing on a table. Being disheveled wouldn’t bother her. His ears folded back. That was one memory he wished he could file away and never have returned.

“Hi Dohrma,” He forced his hears back up. “Thanks for taking me as a client, I wasn’t sure you’d be allowed since we’re friends.”

“If this has been mandated but the courts or your work, I’d have to refer you to someone impartial, but so long as you understand that for the next hour, I’m your counselor and not your friend, this can work.”

Marlot nodded. “So, how does this work?”

“Start by telling me why you feel you need a counselor.”

Marlot took a moment to figure out where to start, then decided on when he hacked Trembor’s phone, causing him to walk away. Then he had to backtrack to explain the case, his home town, the community there, then the interactions between him and Trembor while chasing Narik, although he avoided giving details on the chase, she couldn’t tell anyone what they discussed, but he didn’t want to place her in an awkward position. He finished with Gorrek, the realization of the abuse Trembor had suffered, and them agreeing to give their relationship a second try. He mentioned the dinner, but not what happened afterward, although he suspected his expression told her all she needed to know.

“Did you every pickup on this need I have to be obeyed?” he finally asked her. “In the times we hung out?”

She took her time replying. “I work hard not to analyze my friends outside of a visit like this. I had noticed you can be driven when you want something, but no, you never exhibited traits when we hung out that led me to think you might overdo it. Why do you think you feel this need to get your way?”

Marlot snorted. “I don’t know.” He rubbed the side of his muzzle, thinking about it. “Maybe it’s because of my father and mother. Isn’t there a joke about every problem we have being traced back to our parents?”

“They do take part in our formative years, so it’s understandable they’d leave their mark. How do you think your parents instilled the need in you?”

“You never met them, it shows. They’re people who always get their ways. My father is sneaking about it, I guess is the best way I can describe it. He won’t raise his voice unless he’s angry, but when he wants something, he will stare you down until you give in.”

“That seems rather direct,” Dorhma said, “why do you describe it as sneaky?”

“I guess because compared to my mother’s constant insistence and demands, his staring felt that way.”

“And do you feel your need stemmed from trying to follow their example?”

“More like overcompensating.” He thought about it. “I wasn’t assertive like my parents. Honestly, that place doesn’t lend itself to building confidence, unless you do exactly what’s expected of you. When I didn’t show any interest in running my family’s commune I marked myself as different. I don’t remember my father ever berating me for it, but there was this sense they were indulging me to I’d see the error of my ways. When I studied to be an RI, I thought I’d be vital to the community in my own right so I’d be allowed to be my own male, but then I fell under the council’s thumb.”

“I have to admit I find it difficult to accept the farming communities can act so independently from the rest of the country.”

Marlot shrugged. “So long as they don’t disrupt the system outside their town limits, the rest of the world doesn’t care. Providing vegetables to the herbivores of so many cities gives them the economic power to get their way a lot of the time.”

“Like getting City Leader Sharphorns to pressure you into taking their case.”

“Yeah,” he said bitterly. “Fortunately, I think that meat turned sufficiently rancid on them they won’t do it again.”

“And does that makeup for what happened?”

Marlot shook his head. “If I’d known what winning would cost me. I’d have left the first time Trembor suggested it. I just—” he had trouble forming words as anger surged. “—I just wanted to get hem to choke on their pride. I needed them to pay for how they treated me, for their hypocrisy as clawing down anyone who dares be different when they’re a bunch of deviants themselves. I have no doubt if I’d stayed and dug more, that tiger wouldn’t have been the only one with crimes to expose. If I’d documented them, I could have had Arlion charged with so many obstructions of investigations he’d have been ruined.”

“Could you still do it? You have your case files from those days, don’t you?”

“What’s the point? Someone else would take his place. They’d make superficial changes and things would keep going the same way they have been for as long at the town’s been there.” He paused. “I got myself out of there. On an intellectual level, I know I could help the cubs and young adults by exposing the council, but in the end, I just don’t care about them. They’re part of that town.” A timer appeared in the corner of the screen, counting down from ten minutes. “I guess the session is coming to an end.”

“As much as I might want to spend the day helping you, I have other clients.”

“So what do I do now?”

“What do you think you should do?”

“Isn’t it your job to tell me?”

“Ignoring the fact you grew up with people constantly telling you what to do, and where that led you. My job as a counselor of more that of a guide. So tell me what you think you should do, and if I feel you need guidance, I’ll give it.”

“I need to stop putting my needs before everyone else,” Marlot said without hesitation.

“What does that look like? How can you go about doing that?”

That he needed to think about. “I guess I have to start by taking a step back and considering the consequences of my actions.”

“Like you did during the meal with Trembor; when you made a conscious decision not to press him about his mood.”

Marlot nodded. “I should also ask him for advice, well, more like listen to the advice he gives me. It isn’t like he’d approved of my charging ahead through people’s feelings.”

“Do you have other people who’s opinions you can ask?”

“There’s Bahamel, you.” I realized he didn’t have the largest circle of people who he felt he could confide in. Most of his friends were techheads like him, and unless the problem was computer-related, he didn’t think they’d be able to do much. “That’s about it. Pretty pitiful isn’t it?”

“Not really. Most people only have a few close friends they feel comfortable confiding in, and who might have the perspective to offer advice that’s applicable.”

Marlot hadn’t expected his own judgment to mirror what she said. He motioned to the timer as it dropped below five minutes. “So when do you want to schedule the next session?”

“Do you feel you need another session?”

Marlot sighed. “This constant answering with a question is getting annoying, Dorhma.”

She smiled. “You need to endure it for a little more than four minutes.”

“Fine. But isn’t this how that works? You keep supervising my progress via more sessions.”

“It depends on the client. Do you feel you need constant supervision? Or is an ear to listen to you when you hit hard times enough?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I was hoping you’d tell me. My track record for decision making isn’t great.”

“Don’t let this make you question everything you do, Marlot. You’ve identified a flaw in how you react to the world. That doesn’t make you flawed. You have made far more good decisions to get where you are than bad ones. The bad ones just seem overwhelming because of how close to your heart they struck. If you want to schedule another session, we can do that.” She looked to the side of the screen. “We can talk again next week, at this time.”

“But you don’t think we have to?”

She looked at him and smiled. “You are someone who does most things on his own. You’ve identified the issue without me.” She raised her hand to silence his protest. “All we did is go over what you know, how you got there, and you told me what steps you should take from this point forward. You have my number anytime you need a friend to talk to, but if your feel you need more sessions with your counselor, I can also accommodate that.”

He looked at the timer, under a minute now. “I’m afraid that if I don’t have you to go over my decisions, I’ll just go back to the way I’ve done things and ruin things with Trem.”

She nodded. “Go over this last week, see where you charged through people’s feelings, and where you kept them in mind, try to see what the situation was, how they differed. You’ve already identified that when you get worked up is when you tend to lose track of other people. So try to pay attention to your emotional state.” She glanced the close which had shown zero for a few seconds now. “Our time’s up. Do you want to schedule another session?”

“I’m going to give this a try without supervision,” Marlot answered, “but don’t be surprised if I call you out of the blue.”

“Don’t hesitate, it’s what friends are for. Have a good day.” She ended the session and Marlot looked at a screen, thanking him for attending and asking for him to rate his session. He gave her top marks before terminating the call.

He took a minute to settle himself. He was concerned that he was left to himself still, but she was right. The six years he’d lived in the city included many decisions with good outcomes. He just needed to pay attention and avoid letting his emotions get the better of him.

And the next decision he needed to take was finding out what was going on with this body who’d been killed twice. The best place to start was by working out how that first kill had happened.

He called the Revenue Department, identified himself. “I need the name of who paid the tax on Hardir Mixcoat.” He gave the male’s ID number and waited.