Series of Death, Draft 02, CH 24 (Patreon)

“Jerder Masshunter,” Trembor said, sitting the young puma before the processing officer. “Case 254-6542.” The poor male had killed his neighbor when an argument got out of control, freaked out, and fled. He’d been hiding among the homeless for the last three weeks, and Trembor was confident the male had even eaten some of that meat out of desperation.

“Do you have the supporting evidence?” the deer on the other side of the desk asked.

“I didn’t do it,” the puma said and earned himself a glare from her.

Trembor handed over the slate. There had been witnesses, the puma had left fur at the scene, the bull had had blood on his knuckles which he’d matched to the puma. Confirming he was the killer had been simple, it was tracking him down that had been time-consuming.

“Any personal opinions, RI Goldenmane?” she asked.

This was why he handed over his quarry to her. She wasn’t as uncaring as some of the other officers within Financial Processing. “An argument got out of hand. Everything I found speaks to him being scared more than anything. He didn’t set out to break the law.”

“Why didn’t you just pay the tax?” she asked the young male.

“I can’t afford it,” he replied meekly.

“There are lending agencies.”

He shook his head. “I already owe too much. It’s why I had to move back in with my mom. I need to save as much money as I could to repay them.”

Trembor shook his head sadly. Today’s young predators had the highest rate of food-related debt. Hadn’t Marlot pointed to something on the kiosk—he shut down the thought. He wasn’t thinking about the wolf.

“Could she pay it for you?” the officer asked, her tone still neutral.

“I’m not putting that on her!” he exclaimed. And shrunk in on himself as people at other desks looked in their direction. “I’m of hunting age. I’m supposed to be able to provide meat, not have to…” He trailed off, blinking to keep tears from falling.

“Does your mother know you’re okay?” she asked, her tone warming.

The puma shook his head.

“I called her to let her know I’d found him,” Trembor said.

The young male looked scared.

“Should I expect her?”

“No, I explained he had to be processed before anything else, I told her you’d call her once that was done.”

She studied the puma. “What’s left of the body?”

“It’s in good condition,” Trembor answered. “It was put in a freezer within a couple of hours of dying. It’s been three weeks, so there could be freezer burn, but I’d eat it if it was my kill.”

She inserted the slate, read, and typed. “Would your mother be willing to pay the tax?” she asked. “It is the simplest thing all around.”

“I can’t ask her to do that,” the puma whispered.

She reached across the desk to place a hand on the puma’s. “Jerder, she’s your mother. I’m sure she’d rather pay than see you do time among the work crews.”

The puma pulled his hand away. “He’s my kill,” he said defiantly. “My responsibility. I’ll do the time.”

The puma couldn’t see her smile behind the screen from where he sat. She looked at Trembor and mouthed, cubs. He shrugged. He’d been the same at that age; determined to prove he didn’t need anyone’s help, even once involved with Gorrek. So yeah, he had been just as stupid as the puma.

“Everything’s in order, RI Goldenmane. I’ll have him processed by the end of the day.” She handed him the slate back with the confirmation so he could update his files. “Thank you for your good work.”

He put it away and left, feeling hollow. On the trail of Gorrek came thoughts of Marlot again. And this time the wolf wouldn’t just leave. He wanted to call him, to let him know he’d cleared another body out of the freezer. He wanted to celebrate with the wolf.

Why did he still miss him after all these weeks? Miss his touch, his scent? The male was an abuser. Trembor wanted nothing to do with him. He looked at the passenger seat as he started his car; imagined the wolf sitting there, his hand on Trembor’s thigh.

He shook the memory away. He’d gotten over Gorrek; he’d get over Marlot.

* * * * *

He sat the rust-colored wolf in the chair harder than he had to and the officer, an angry-looking boar, glared at the lion, then the wolf.

“Boldian Firepelt,” Trembor said, handing the slate over. “Case 254-6555.”

At her desk, the deer glanced in their direction as she spoke with the ocelot, standing by the elk seated at her desk. He could have waited for her to be available, but this wolf didn’t merit her understanding. His tax evasion hadn’t been accidental. He’d done everything he could to cover his tracks and when caught he’d made Trembor work for the capture. They both had bruises and cuts to prove that.

The boar inserted the slate and started typing, his eyes moving over the screen. After a minute Trembor cleared his voice and the boar looked up at him, annoyed. He typed again and took the slate out. “You can go.” As Trembor stepped away, the boar added. “Good work.”

He made his way through the crowd in the lobby, having to fight the urge to growl as he was bumped into and shoved. The next time he came here, he’d check how busy they were first.

* * * * *

Trembor read the file again. The forensic report on the Arlant Shine scene had come back three days ago, but he’d asked the officers to go over the report because the first one had amounted to ‘no usable evidence,’ and while he knew that wasn’t an impossibility, it was unlikely enough he’d wanted to them make sure they had missed nothing.

Was he dealing with a reptile again? He tried to remember which body it had been. A cheetah, he thought. Spottedfur. Remembering her, he remembered being shot and the memory of the pain in his shoulder returned. The male, he couldn’t remember the name, who’d killed her had almost gotten away with it because reptile didn’t shed the way the furred species did, and he and Marlot just couldn’t understand why there had been nothing on the scene.

Marlot had made the bastard pay for hurting him. The smile fell as the context of what had happened changed.

Of course, Marlot had killed the reptile; he’d hurt Trembor. He’d hurt Marlot’s possession. Gorrek had done nothing that extreme, but there had been a few beatings in clubs where he’d paraded Trembor. Where males had thought that meant Trembor was being offered to them.

Gorrek didn’t share.

With a curse, he shook the memory away and focused on the case. The coyote didn’t have enemies; unless he counted the angry female, he’d dated or the handful of work-related grudges. He’d checked those people’s alibi. The one thing of note was he’d requested a replacement ID, which Trembor had expected since Marlot had been at the house to hand over the lost one.

Of course, it would be the case Trembor just couldn’t clear the wolf had shown up to. Enforcers had questioned the neighbors, but no one had seen anything. Trembor didn’t enjoy thinking about any case like that, but this one might be that one body an RI never cleared, that got passed on to his replacement once he retired, and so on until even the system forgot who the body had been.

Marlot had inherited one of those when he took over the territory, Trembor had avoided having one of those.

He sighed. Marlot again.

He took his pad off the charging plate and felt unreasonably proud of having remembered without having Marlot’s remembered voice nagging him about it.

“Hey, Uncle Trembor,” Herelex greeted him.

“Hey Herelex, how are you doing?”

“Don’t you mean, how my dad’s doing?”

“My scent is that strong?” he asked with a chuckle.

“He’s the one in trouble right now,” his nephew answered, and Trembor heard the shrug in his voice.

“How is my brother doing?”

“Dad smells okay. He’s on edge, and he’s spending a lot of time with females. Isy hadn’t caught the scent of his stress, I think. Dad took us to Grand Central yesterday after classes.”

Females were better than gambling, Trembor thought. “How’s the amusement park?

“It’s okay,” Herelex answered in a clear, I’m not a cub anymore, tone. “Isy had fun. Dad seemed distracted.”

“Anyone,” Trembor looked for how to ask the question without making Herelex too suspicious. “Unusual come by the house?”

“No, just the females he brings over. He’s quiet about it, waits until Isy’s in bed to do anything.”

Meaning Herelex heard what his father and the females got up to. That couldn’t be easy on someone his age with the hormones still raging. “Okay, thanks, keep me informed if your father behaves oddly.”

“Are you okay, Uncle?” Herelex asked before Trembor disconnected the call.

“I’m fine,” he answered.

“Right,” his nephew replied sarcastically, “because you always call in the middle of a workday when you’re fine.” He paused. “It’s him again, isn’t it?” Marlot had gone back to being him, for which Trembor was grateful.

“He keeps sneaking into my mind.” Trembor sighed. “He’s particularly stubborn today.”

“You’ll get over him. You’re stronger than he is.”

Trembor smiled. “Thanks. I’ll see you at the next family dinner.” He disconnected.

Was he stronger than Marlot? If he was, why did he still yearn for the wolf? For his touch, the smell of his body against him. To hold and comfort the wolf?

“Because you’re addicted,” he snarled. “You know that.” Gorrek had done the same, gotten him used to his tender touch so he could control him with it. It was one way abusers got their claws into their victims.

He should have seen it happening. He knew about it, had fallen to it once, so he should have realized it was what Marlot was doing.

Maybe he wasn’t as strong as Herelex thought.

Sound from the other side of the door erupted. A lot of officers moving at once. He opened the door. Any distraction was welcome right now. And everyone in the precinct was moving out.

“What happened?” He asked a passing officer, but before the female could answer him, his pad buzzed. “RI Goldenmane,” he answered, giving her a shrug, and she headed for the exit.

“Trembor,” the dispatch officer said, “a call just came in. There’s a body in your territory.”

“Thanks, pad me the details, and I’ll head there.”

At least he wouldn’t be stuck alone in the precinct with his thoughts. Marlot would love that, hounding him in the silence.

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