A Fraudulent Death, Draft 02, CH 19 (Patreon)

Marlot started the car as soon as he stepped in, his breath fogging the windshield. “Warming weather my ass,” he grumbled. Another day, another wrong forecast. How were any of those people still living? With this level of errors, they couldn’t be worth much. Maybe he should get Stalker 1.0 to look for forecasters?
He rubbed his hands together and blew on them in an attempt to warm them before taking his pad out and looking over the information on the old body in the freezer. He needed to get a new pad, this one didn’t have enough memory for all the information his cases needed these days, and if he wanted any chances of it being able to handle a connection to his new Stalker program, it needed a sturdier processor.

He needed to close some of the older cases for any chances he’d afford that after this new computer.

He called the office.

“Hela’han, I need what you can find on Klieis Longtooth. She’ll be related to the Widepaw case.”

“Someone else who claims to have seen something?” the elephant replied, typing.

“This smells accurate. Details match what I remember, but the newsies print enough on the bodies it might just be something he put together from that. But he had information the newsies didn’t. So I’m hopeful. He claims to have been Widepaw’s neighbor back then, and that the male was in a relationship with this Longtooth. I never found indications Widepaw was in one, but if he wasn’t the kind of male to make a big deal out of it, I could have missed it.”

She made a noncommittal sound.

“Sorry,” he said with a chuckle, “I’d normally be talking about this with Trem, but he’s adamant about not getting close to RI work, as per his lawyer’s order.”

“I understand, it is how the two of you worked for years. The case is two years old. Why did he wait so long to come forward?”

“He moved out of the city before Widepaw died, and just came back last week. He caught the old story on a rerun channel. If we can confirm the relationship, it’ll be something new to go to the witnesses with.”

“Wouldn’t they have said something in two years?”

“They might not have realized it’s relevant; if it even is.” Or, he thought, maybe he hadn’t been as attentive to what they said as he should have been. Now that he paid attention to his behavior around people; looking back, if he was certain of an idea, he tended to barrel in that direction. He could have ignored a detail. “Widepaw might also not have advertised the relationship. And even if it isn’t the reason he was killed, Miss Longtooth should have more information that will help find the killer.”

“I’ll have the file updated and ready by the time you are here.”

“Thanks, Hela’han.” He put his hands over the vent. Not exactly warm yet, but warmer than the rest of the car.

Reluctantly, he went back to the pad. He looked over the office’s finances and immediately put any idea of a new pad out of his mind. The way things were going, in a few weeks, four at most, he wouldn’t be able to pay Hela’han’s salary. He should have moved to a smaller office as soon as he saw Trembor had taken his things away. He should have at least told her the situation they were in. She had to know; she was a smart female.

Capturing Nikal had saved them from immediate troubles, but the office depended on two territory’s worth of bodies for the rent to be covered. He should start the process to move right now. Contact the lending agency. They might have smaller offices he could move his lease to if they weren’t willing to let him cancel the contract.

But those four weeks should be enough for Trembor to be done with the trial and back to work. They’d find him innocent, he knew, or at least that his actions were justified. Trembor might demand a punishment, but people were more understanding. It would be hard for a while, but with both their territories, things would settle and get back to normal.

He connected to Stalker 1.0 and looked over the results. No changes. Somehow Mixcoat had walked around for years without tripping any societal flags. How did a male do that? He couldn’t feed himself just from buying food at the bakery. He clearly didn’t have the productivity to survive that way. How did he pay the rent? How did he hold a job?

That Marlot had found someone who had interacted with him showed him how he had to proceed, but walking the street was much more Trembor’s thing; another reason for him to be back in the office as soon as possible. Barring that, the two of them could still have one-on-one time and talk things over. Trembor would have ideas.

It took longer for Trembor to answer than Marlot expected, long enough that when the voice came, he expected it to be the message center.

“Hey Marl,” Trembor said, sounding tired. The voice still sent a shiver down his spine.

“Hi Trem. Are you busy?”

The answer wasn’t immediate, and there was hesitation in it. “Not really.”

Marlot went over how he’d asked. Had his tone implied a demand? Should he apologize? What if it was just Trembor being tired? He took a breath.

“How do you feel about meeting up at Grebor’s? We haven’t sparred in a while, and no one else measures up to you.”

“I…” it stretched into silence.

“Trem, are you okay?” he asked, once the silence became worrisome.

“Yes, sorry.” There was a pause. “Just out of sorts. This sitting at home with nothing to do messes with my mood.”

“Then sparring is going to be good for you.” Marlot cursed himself for making it a statement. “Wouldn’t it?”

Again the silence stretched. “You’re right,” Trembor said, sounding resolute, and Marlot found he could breathe again. Only the worry the lion was doing what he was being told to, nagged at him.

“Are you sure? If you’d rather not, I understand. I don’t want to pressure you, Trem.”

His lion laughed, and it sounded genuine. “You’re not. I’ll tell you if you get pushy, Marl, don’t worry about that. I’m not going to let myself take that kind of treatment. It’s just this day, the case, everything around it. When do you want to meet up?”

“How about now?”

Trembor chuckled. “Even at my best, I’m not that fast. It’ll be at least thirty minutes before I can be there.”

“Thirty minutes is fast enough for me. I’ll see you there.” He started driving out of the lot.

“Yeah… I’ll be there.” Trembor disconnected and Marlot put the pad away, doing his best to ignore that final hesitation.

Posted using PostyBirb