A Fraudulent Death, Draft 02, CH 18 (Patreon)

Trembor stood, back to his office door, watching and listening to the people in the precinct work. The males and females who enforced the laws in the city. Discussions, arguments, laughter. They were an extension of his family; his pride, in a way. So many good times with them. At the academy, around the precincts, where they’d spent their first years being moved around to. Even once he became an RI, everyone here had his back.

Most everyone, he reminded himself. The mole had implied she had people within the enforcers, and someone she owned had gotten to Jasber while in a cage, so he had to believe her. It soured his mood slightly, going from enjoying the scene to trying to determine how someone might be in her employ. How had she convinced an enforcer working for criminals was something worth doing?

“Trembor,” the tiger greeted him, standing next to him and looking over the precinct.

“Captain,” he replied, still scanning the room.

“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?” this time there was inquisitiveness to the tone.

Trembor sighed and struggled to remain calm. There were enough smells to cover how some of how he felt, but not all to the tiger standing this close. “I needed to see and hear this place. Having nothing to do is a lot more boring than it sounds.”

The captain smiled, then was serious again. “Preparing for your trial should keep you busy.”

“That’s more my lawyer’s job. I answer a question here and there. Mostly I just sit around, maybe clean the house; and there’s only so much cleaning I can stand in a day.”

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

Trembor shook his head. Everything there was related to his work. Whoever they’d assign his territory to would deal with it.

“Then I’m afraid I need to escort you out.” The tiger motioned to the exit. “Only enforcement and government personnel are allowed here.”

Trembor headed for the door. His goodbyes hadn’t needed to be said out loud. This visit hadn’t been about a specific person, but the organization as a whole. The enforcers had been a part of him for so long, such an important one. Even now, while he waited for things to end, he already felt the void of not being allowed in.

* * * * *

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 as he regained 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 decided. He wasn’t so old that young adults looked that young.

Although today, he felt old.

“Hey cuz!” someone yelled from insider the building. “You planning on turning my bar into a freezer?”

He entered and closed the door. “Are those two even legal to be in there?” he asked L’nard.

“Believe it or not, they are.” The other lion chuckled. “Makes you feel old, doesn’t it?”

Trembor took a stool. “I never realized this was what being old felt like.”

“And I’m two years older than you,” the bartender said, placing a glass of alcoholized blood before Trembor. “Imagine how I feel.”

Trembor snorted. “You’ll never be older than me. I don’t care how many businesses you end up running. You’ll always be a cub at heart, while I’m…” he trailed off. He was on his last few days. Weeks depending on how much procrastinating he did. He sipped his glass.

“Don’t worry about the trial. It’ll be over in a flash and you’ll be back to running down anyone who just thinks of evading their taxes, which I’d never do,” L’nard added before stepping away to serve a customer.

He took another sip and wondered how many of them he’d need on the day he faced his father. How much more would be required if Serene was present. Of the four of his parents, she was the one he’d have to watch what he said around. Her protective instinct rivaled Marlot’s. Which was why he suspected the two of them hadn’t gotten along on the few meeting that had happened. Each felt it was their job to see to Trembor’s safety, not the other.

L’nard returned, wiping a glass. “What’s keeping you busy while you wait to be cleared?”

Trembor checked his reaction. Reminded himself the trial didn’t matter in the end. “I clean and drink.” He raised his glass to the lion and took another sip.

The bartender winced. “You know, if you need something to do in the meantime, I can always use another server.” He grinned, “put you in a tight shirt and you’ll draw in customers.”

Trembor chuckled in spite of himself. “I’m not that desperate yet.”

“And a male such as him shouldn’t be relegated to carrying drinks,” a female behind Trembor said, and he tensed. “He would be so much more suited to enforcing that sign by the door.” The mole took the stool next to his. “Isn’t that right, Mister Goldenmane?” She smiled at him.

“I haven’t needed anyone enforcing it in years,” L’nard said. “What can I get you?”

Trembor stared at her, too stunned to say anything, hardly hearing her reply. Had someone here called her? No, he hadn’t been here long enough. He glanced around and didn’t see anyone obviously working for her. Had she been following him? Had he been so focused on his plans he’d missed someone on his scent?

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

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

“Cousin,” Trembor answered before catching himself.

She nodded. “It’s nice to have family in a variety of businesses. It allows for an easy change if you feel you need one.”

He bristled. “If you even think of touching him or his bar,” he growled quietly, “I will—”

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

He snorted. “Right. I’m sure eating lawyers is so stressful.”

She smiled around her glass and sighed after a small sip. “You are keeping your sense of humor, that is good.”

“Is that how you get through the day?” he demanded. “Knowing that at any time someone might finally have enough and eat you?”

“Hardly,” she answered, smiling. “My friends make sure everyone gets along. That no one has a reason to eat me. That is what friends are for after all, is it not?” she took another sip. “That, and family.”

He looked around the bar more carefully this time, which kept him from reacting to the barely veiled threat. Like before, no one jumped out as working for her, but it meant nothing. She’d used imposing males to make a point in her previous meetings with him. That coyote had been nothing like that and still worked for her. Him, in better clothing, would go unnoticed in this crowd.

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

“No.” He down the rest and motioned L’nard for another. “And leave my family out of this.”

“As much as I can.” She shrugged when he glared at her. “It isn’t my intention to hurt them. In truth, I’m here because I am concerned you will. I’ve been informed that the trial seems to have left you depressed, in spite of my assurances everything will work out.” She paused while L’nard exchanged Trembor’s glass and left again. “Someone even suggested you might be suicidal, but that’s ridiculous, isn’t it? A male like you would never go that route, not when you have so many people depending on you. Imagine the pain those cubs who look up to you will feel knowing you simply gave up? What sort of example will that be for such impressionable minds?” She closed her eyes and sipped her drink, letting out another satisfied sigh. “I’m sure that you standing by your office door, looking into the distance, or was it the past? Wasn’t what I was told it looked like, was it?”

He didn’t want to believe someone at the precinct had contacted her. That she had her claws in some enforcers, he believed, but he knew every officer in that precinct. Not all as well, but he had talked with each, gotten to know them; made sure they knew he was there if they needed anything.

They wouldn’t betray the force like this.

“Excuse me,” Maoma called to L’nard, and he returned. “Do you happen to know when the owner of this wonderful establishment will be in?”

“He’s in right now,” L’nard answered before Trembor could stop him. “I happen to be 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. I want to build up more equity before I consider it.”

“You’re a very wise male,” she said. “But have you considered investors? I happen to know people who would love to help a business male like yourself reach higher.”

L’nard nodded, but when he spoke his tone was serious. “I appreciate the offer, but I’ve had an ex who kept putting her muzzle in my affairs. I don’t care for strangers to be doing that.”

“I can promise you they wouldn’t interfere in any way. They are the quiet types, simply happy to help out other business people. But,” she said, cutting off the lion. “I understand your position.” She finished her drink and took a card from a silver holder, handing it to him. “Should you ever change your mind, simply contact me, and I will be pleased to put you in touch with them.” She indicated the empty glass. “That was wonderful.”

She made her was way to the door and two females Trembor would never have guess worked for her were at the mole’s side by the time she reached it. They were slim, wearing fashionable dresses and expensive insulated jackets.

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

“I barely know her,” Trembor replied. “Don’t call her.”

The lion chucked. “Don’t worry. She isn’t the first to come over with stories of ‘quiet investors’ wanting to help me grow. When I expand, it’s going to be with my money.” He paused and grinned. “well, maybe with some of Tiff’s, if she applies the right kind of pressure.” He took the glass. “But she tried too hard. This was off-the-shelf liquor, decent, but in no way ‘wonderful’.” He tossed the card in a bin as he walked away.

Trembor eyed his glass and hated the mole for pointing out how badly this could go. She was right. How would his nieces and nephews deal with his death? Would their parents lie, the way his had about his Grandfather? He suspected Bo wouldn’t, if only out of spite. Could he pull off his plan in such a way that even Serene wouldn’t figure out the truth of it?

“Fuck,” he whispered, then looked around for his cousin, hoping he hadn’t heard. L’nard was at the other end of the bar, talking with a badger while making a drink.

Did this mean he needed to abandon this course? Part of him was relieved at the idea. He’d be able to stay with his wolf. It was so tempting. No matter how horrible working for Maoma would be, Marlot would be there to comfort him at the end of the day.

So long as his wolf didn’t find out about the situation. Then he’d go to war.

He had the glass to his lips when another realization hit him. He looked at it, the alcohol it contained. He couldn’t dull his senses the way he’d been doing. If the mole had people keeping close eyes on him, he had to stay sharp. He put the glass down.

How long until the glass he had drunk was burned out of his system? An hour, two? He could stay here that long, not drink; when he left, he would be attentive for anyone following him.

Maybe he wouldn’t do anything to them.

Maybe.

His cooler was getting low on meat.

It could be nice not to have to go hunting this once.

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