Fraudulent Death, Draft 01, CH 18 (Patreon)

Trembor stood by the door to his office, listening to the sounds of the precinct. The males and females enforcing the laws in the city. Discussions, arguments, laughter. This was an extension of his family. So many good years here, and even once he became an RI. Everyone here had had his back.

Most everyone, Trembor reminded himself.

That Maoma’s people had gotten to Jasber while in a cage meant some of the people here worked for her. The thought soured the moment slightly. He knew there were reasons someone felt they had no choice, but for an enforcer to work for a group of criminals? Trembor couldn’t understand that.

“Trembor,” the tiger greeted him.

“Captain,” he replied, continuing to watch the scene.

“I don’t believe you’re allowed to be here,” the tiger said casually. “How did you get past Jurgen?”

Trembor smiled. “I told him I needed to pick up some things from my office.”

“And why are you really here?”

Trembor sighed and did everything to remain calm, to not even give off a scent of the lie. “I just needed to see the place. Having nothing to do is a lot more boring than it sounds.”

“Preparing for the trial should keep you busy.”

“It’s more my lawyer who handles it. I answer a question here and there. Mostly I’m home, cleaning. There’s only so much cleaning I can deal with in a day.”

The tiger nodded. “Do you really need anything from your office? I can unlock it for you.”

Trembor thought about it and shook his head. Everything there was Registered Investigator related. Whoever they assigned to his territory could make use of it.

“Then I’m afraid I’ll need to escort you out. Only enforcement and government personnel are allowed on this side.”

Trembor followed the tiger. His goodbyes hadn’t needed to be said out loud. He hadn’t come here to tell any specific person. As many friends as he had in that room, this building; it was the organization as a whole that he felt he needed to settle with. And that was entirely in his head.

* * * * *

The rat almost knocked Trembor off his feet as he opened the door to the Watering Hole. “Get back here, you rat!” a lean fox yelled, forcing Trembor to step aside in the process of regaining his balance.

“Can’t catch me!” the rat yelled over his shoulder, laughing.

Trembor shook his head, watching the two vanish down the sidewalk. Were they even old enough to drink? They couldn’t be. He couldn’t be so old that young adults looked that young. He did feel particularly old today.

“Hey cuz, you planing on turning my bar into a freezer?” L’nard called, his voice raised to carry over the sounds of the crowd.

Trembor closed the door. “Sorry, were those two of legal drinking age?”

“Yeah, believe it or not. Makes you feel old, doesn’t it?”

Trembor sat on a stool. “Never realized this was what being old felt like.”

“And I’m two years older than you,” the lion on the other side of the bar said, placing a glass of alcoholized blood. “So imagine how I feel.”

Trembor snorted. “You’ll never be older than I am. For all that you’ve run a business, you’re still just a cub at heart, while I’m…” he trailed off. He was on his last few days. Weeks at most if he found himself procrastinating seeing his parents.

“Don’t worry about the trial, it’ll be over in a flash and you’ll be back running down anyone who even thinks of evading their taxes.” L’nard stepped away to serve another customer.

Trembor looked into his glass and wondered how many he’d need if he decided to face his father today? How many more, if Serene was with him? Of the four of his parents, she was the one he had to watch for. Her protective instinct rivaled Marlot’s. He suspected it was why the two hadn’t gotten along during the first few visits. Each felt it was their job to keep Trembor safe.

“So, what do you do to keep busy while you wait?” L’nard asked, returning, drying a glass.

“I clean and drink.”

The lion winced. “You know, if you need something to do while you wait, I can always use someone to carry drinks to the tables.”

Trembor snorted and chuckles in spite of himself. “I’m not that desperate yet.”

“And a male like him shouldn’t be relegated to serving drinks,” a female said behind him. “He’d be of more use enforcing that sign by the door.” The mole sat at the stool next to Trembor’s. “Isn’t that right, Mister Goldenmane?” she smiled at him.

“I haven’t needed anyone enforcing it in years,” L’nard said. Trembor was too stunned at Maoma’s presence to say anything. What was she doing here? How was she here? He hadn’t been here long enough for anyone to call her and drive her here. Had she been following him? Had he been so distracted by his plans he’d lost all awareness of his surroundings?

L’nard placed a wide glass half-filled with a golden liquid before her, then left to deal with more orders.

“Nice fellow,” she commented, breathing in the aromas of the drink. “Relative of yours, I believe?”

“Cousin,” Trembor answered before catching himself.

“Ahh. It’s always nice to have family in a variety of businesses. Allows for a change if you feel you need one.”

He bristled. “If you even think of touching this bar or L’nard,” he growled quietly, “I will—”

“Please, Mister Goldenmane. No need for that. I’m not here to make threats. I just happened to be in the area and noticed your car here, so I thought I’d see how you were doing. A trial can be a stressful thing, trust me. I do know that.”

“Right, I’m sure eating lawyers is so much stress for you.”

She smiled around her glass and sighed after a short sip. “Keeping your sense of humor is good.”

“Is that how you get through the day knowing anytime now someone might have enough and just eat you?”

“Hardly, my friends make sure nothing untoward happens to me. That is what friends are for, after all, isn’t it?” she took another sip. “That and family.”

Trembor knew that last one was aimed at him, but he was too busy looking around the bar for the friends she hinted at. No one he recognized, but that meant nothing. A handful of people were built to be her muscle, but they seemed to be enjoying their drinks, not eying him.

“Satisfied?” she asked, amused, when he turned back to his drink.

“No.” He downed what was left of his drink and motioned to L’nard for another. “And leave my family out of this.”

“As much as I can.” She shrugged. “It isn’t my intention to hurt them. In truth, I’m here because I’m concerned you will. I’ve heard that you seem down, despite my assurances everything will work out for the best. Depressed is what I was told. Someone even suggested suicidal. But that’s ridiculous, isn’t it? After all, a male like you would never go that route, not when you have so many people depending on you. It’s unthinkable that someone like you would put them through the pain of simply giving up. Can you imagine how the cubs who look up to you would react?” she took another sip, closed her eyes in satisfaction. “So I’m sure you standing at by the door to your office, looking into the distance, wasn’t what I was told it looked like. Was it?”

She had to be making it up. If he’d missed someone following him—no he had missed someone following him, so she’d know he’d gone to the precinct, but for one of the enforcers to call her to describe his mood, where he stood. He’d have noticed one of them watching him that carefully.

L’nard placed a new glass before Trembor, breaking him from the frightening thoughts.

“Tell me,” Maoma said to L’nard, “do you happen to know the owner of this wonderful establishment?”

“That’d be me,” the lion replied before Trembor could warn him.

“Oh, beautiful. Tell me, have you considered expanding? Maybe opening a second location?”

The lion chuckled. “I’ve thought about it, but I’m not ready for that yet. Maybe once I’ve built up more of a reserve.”

“You’re a very wise male. But what if you had investors? I happen to know people who would love to help a businessmale like yourself.”

“I appreciate the offer, but I had an ex that kept putting her muzzle in my affair. I don’t care for a repeat with strangers.”

“I can promise you they wouldn’t interfere in any way, they are the quiet types, simply happy to help out, but,” she said cutting off L’nard, “I do understand your position.” She finished her drink and pulls a card from a holder, handing it to the lion. “Should you ever change your mind, just contact me and I will be more than happy to put you in touch with them.” He indicated the empty glass. “That was wonderful by the way.”

She made her way to the door, joined by two females Trembor would never have guessed were with her. They were sleek dresses under what he expected were fashionable insulated jackets.

“Friend of yours?” L’nard asked, looking at the card.

“I barely know her,” Trembor answered, turning back to the bar. “Don’t call her.”

The lion chuckled. “After she tried way too hard to compliment me? I doubt I want to do business with her.” He picked the empty glass. “This was off-the-shelf liquor. Good, but in no way wonderful.” He tossed the card as he walked away.

Trembor eyed his glass of blood and hated her for pointing out all the worse of the way his plans would affect his family. His nieces and nephews. How would they deal with his death? She was right that they looked up to him. Would failing at a hunt so badly it killed him even be something they could understand, or would they see it as what it was, in the way cubs could something see through the lies adults told them.

“Fuck,” he whispered and looked up, relaxing when L’nard was at the other end of the counter. Did it mean he couldn’t go through with his plans? Or could he come up with some other way, something that would ensure the cubs didn’t get hurt, somehow?

He looked at his full glass. One thing he did know was that he couldn’t afford to dull his senses, not with Maoma keeping such a close eye on him. He pushed the glass away and checked his pad. Half an hour and the alcohol should be burned out of his system enough for him to drive. And he’d do so keeping an eye out for anyone following him.