Fraudulent Death, Draft 01, CH 41 (Patreon)

Late afternoon was a busy time for Ezk’Eriel and his brothers, enough that except for the occasional chuckle, it was all serious. Marlot caught Ezk’Eriel’s attention, then remained out of the way until the hyena got one of his brother to take his place at the counter. Marlot tried to find the mink, but he didn’t even remember what he looked like and he’d removed the battery from his pad to ensure no one listened in on this.

He was getting as paranoid as Harik.

“Is he still here?”

“He didn’t like the crowd, so I set him in my office.” Ezk’Eriel led Marlot to the back, pausing to exchange a few words in his native tongue with an elderly hyena in a baking apron and gloves. He noticed Marlot and angled her body to hide her workspace from his view.

“Mother’s protective of her recipes,” Ezk’Eriel commented as he continued down a hallway to an office. “If you end up killing him, do me a favor and keep the blood to a minimum.”

“I’m not killing him,” Marlot answered. “But, what’s his name?”

The hyena canted an ear. “Shouldn’t you know that?”

“It’s on my pad, which someone hacked. Until I can sanitize it, I’m not using it.”

“Galden.”

Marlot entered, and the mink stood, looking around nervously. He was still as thin as Marlot remembered him, but his fur had more of a sheen to it. Ezk’Eriel had said he took smaller portions, but they had done him some good.

“Galden,” Marlot greeted the mink.

“Hi.” He took a step back as Marlot approached. “Look, you didn’t have to come. I’m not doing anything wrong. I just wanted the meat you said I could take.”

Marlot leaned back against the door. “And you can have it once you tell me why.”

“That’s none of your business,” the mink replied defiantly. “You said it was mine, I need to take now.”

“Where are you going to store it?”

“I’ll figure out something.”

“So you aren’t prepared to take it.”

“Just give it to me already.”

“Galden, why do you want what’s left all of a sudden when you don’t have a cooler ready for it. You take more than you can eat and the rest is going to be wasted, do you really want that?”

The mink paced the length of the opposing wall, in front of the shelves holding books on baking, a diploma in a language Marlot didn’t recognize, and a trophy of someone bulky carrying someone smaller under his arm.

“I can’t stay here,” Galden said.

“Once you explain what’s going on, you can take the meat and leave.”

“Not here.” The mink motioned at the office. “Here.” He made a broader sweeping gesture. “It’s not safe anymore.”

“Galden, you’re homeless, without a rating. It’s never been safe for you.”

“No one was looking for me before,” the mink snapped.

Marlot straightened, now they were getting somewhere. Not that he liked where that was. “Who is looking for you?”

“I don’t know, but people have been sniffing around where he died. Asking people what happened, who saw what. I don’t like how they look.”

“How do they look?”

Galden glared at him. “Like people who don’t belong in that part of the city. Well dressed, too well dressed, with the locals baring their throat for them. They don’t belong, they shouldn’t be helping them.”

“Calm down, Galden, they don’t know who you are, and I’m not going to tell them.”

“Someone saw me there, talking with you.”

“Yes, but you were away from the people watching. At best they know a mink spoke with me.”

“The enforcer took my name!”

Marlot nodded, but if the enforcer had put the name in a report, Galden would already be dead, he suspected. It wasn’t often Marlot was happy for someone not doing their job properly.

“It’s my case,” Marlot said in as calm a voice as he could. “So I’m the only one who has your name.” If he’d even thought to write it down, someone. He was no longer sure since he was confident that crime group had access to what was on his pad.

It didn’t calm Galden. “This isn’t how it was supposed to go,” he grumbled.

“How was it supposed to go?” Marlot asked.

“Not like this.” The mink snapped. “You were supposed to finish this quickly, and I’d get his body and no one would bother me.”

Marlot chuckled. “How told you that? Investigations like these age never quick.”

“They did, before he killed—” the mink froze. “I mean, he did before—” He looked around scared.

Marlot stepped forward. “Before who killed whom?”

“No one!” Galden retreated to a corner, and Marlot resisted the urge to crowd him. He needed him coherent, not combative. “I told you, I didn’t see anything. I just found the body. That’s what he said I had to—”

“Galden!”

The mink jerked, eyes wide, pupil dilated, ready to bolt or fight.

“Calm down. Whatever happened, I promise you are not in trouble. Just take a breath.” At least minks weren’t set off by predator scents, being meat eaters themselves. Marlot stepped back. “I need you to tell me what happened. What did you see? When you said he died, you mean Hardir, right? The brindled-furred wolf.”

Galden still looked ready to bolt, but he nodded.

“You said someone killed him. Was it a tiger?” it would make sense that the male who shared his apartment be involved.

The mink shook his head. “A wolverine.”

Marlot tried to remember if he’d come across any wolverine in the investigation. “Start from the beginning, Galden.”

“It’s like I said, I was heading to the building to get out of the cold because the shelters were full. I surprised them there and almost bolted, but the wolf called me over. Said I could help them. The wolverine wasn’t happy about it, he didn’t stop him. The wolf told me his friend was going to kill him, and he wanted me to call it in once his friend had left, and not to mention him. He said I’d be able to have his body after you were done with it. It was food, so I said yes.”

“Did he say me specifically?”

The mink shook his head. “He said once the investigator was done.”

Marlot felt better, he had enough of people picking him to get something done. Then his mood soured. Hardir had arranged to die in his territory. That couldn’t be a coincidence.

“The wolverine, do you know who he is?”

Galden shook his head.

“Did Hardir call him his friend, or was that your interpretation of their relationship?”

“He said it. The wolverine didn’t look happy to be there. I don’t think he wanted to do it.”

Possibly not, but he was still the one who’d killed Hardir, so the one who needed to pay the tax; whatever Vlein decided that was. Then why leave the body lying around was so Marlot would be involved? Easy, without that, he wouldn’t have contacted Hardir’s mate, so she wouldn’t have known to contact him about the package.

Now, all he needed to do was track down the wolverine and he could close the case and… and what? Did that end his involvement with everything else? He doubted Vlein would allow him to drop the investigation into the walking dead, but Marlot could argue it wasn’t what he was retained to do. He was an RI, not Vlein’s go-to investigator.

Not that he wanted to stop. He wanted to dig this all the way to the bottom. And if the wolverine had taken part in killing Hardir, he probably knew something of the why Hardir had felt the need to leave the scent as he had.

That left Galden. With what he’d said, Marlot no longer needed him. But it felt wrong to just leave him to whoever was asking around about people involved in Hardir’s death.

“If I find you a place to hide out until this is over, will you stick around? If you take your meat and run, I can’t ensure they won’t find you.”

“Who’ll take me in?” the mink asked in disbelief.

Marlot had no idea. He couldn’t ask Harik, for all the extra rooms he had. The mouse was nervous around Marlot, and they’d known each other for years. He also couldn’t trust that Galden wouldn’t give in to his hunger being around a prey all the time.

Bahamel might agree to it. With her children moved out, she had rooms. Maybe she could also help Galden get back on his feet; if the mink could survive her gruff way of dealing with people.

Trembor? No. He had enough with his own problems. Marlot wouldn’t add to that.

“I have someone, tell me you’ll stick around and I’ll make the arrangement. It’s going to be a roof over your head and a warm bed. Do you really want to stay outside with the coming winter and someone after you?”

“Okay,” Galden finally said.

“Stay here.” Marlot took his pad out, remembered the battery wasn’t in it, and why. He made it to the front and borrowed Ezk’Eriek’s pad to call Bahamel, and after finally convincing her to help him and come pickup Galden, he called Trembor. He needed to spend time with his lion, and being around the scene of Ezk’Eriel’s mother baking had made him hungry.

A hunt would be nice. He smiled. Their first hunt as a mated pair. Nikal didn’t count. They’d still been angry at one another. This was going to be their first hunt together.