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Those anthropomorphic bounty hunter detectives are back with new adventures... |
| [Introduction] FELCANROD Felcanrod is a team of three bounty hunters - a wolf, a cat, and a rat. It takes place on an alternate earth that is just like ours, same time, same places, but it has a humanimal population in it (and other beasts, creeps, critters, and weirdness as necessary). ... ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** ... ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** ... ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** ............ Samuel ...................... Sapphire ......................... Skeemo ... NAME: Samuel Blacktail SPECIESs: Grey Wolf BODY: Muscular, with a variety of scars covering his body, both from past fights and accidents. Missing an eye and an ear, on the left side, to say nothing about the scar running through that side of the face, practically bisecting his muzzle, along with a tear on the left side of his jaw, that makes it look like he's always snarling (Something like Jonah Hex), the pinky on the left hand is missing, and favors his left leg. Fur color is grey, except for his tail, which is black. OUTFIT: Prefers to wear something casual, in an attempt to blend in with the locals, but Samuel Blacktail always seems to stick out - mainly due to his charming good looks. PERSONALITY: Samuel always tries to be friendly towards those around him. However, those who insult women around him had best watch out; he once disfigured a man, by slicing off his ear, tearing out his eye, chopped off a finger, then tossing the guy into a pig pen, all because he called his own wife a whore. Then again, Samuel once had a wife, only to lose her in the incident that disfigured him. That being said, he tends to focus on the job. NAME: Sapphire Shores SPECIES: Siamese Cat BODY: Slender and graceful, Olympic Gymnast fit, has large blue eyes and long cream colored head fur. OUTFIT: Normally wears a Blue Jumpsuit, when Stealth is needed she gets into her jet black full body cat suit PERSONALITY: Calm, cool, collected, Cares deeply about other creatures and seeks to protect them from harm, mess with Cubs or other youngsters around her at your peril! NAME: Skeemo Saab SPECIES: rat BODY: Kind of dumpy, not fat, just chunky. But he doesn't waddle, he walks smoothly and stealthily. HEAD: Large, sharp-pointed nose, beady eyes but hidden by black wraparound sunglasses, jet black hair slicked back with oil. OUTFIT: Usually seen in grey sweatpants and sweatshirt with expensive Italian shoes of black leather. Prefers zip-up-the-side, lightweight boots. PERSONALITY: Friendly, but knows how to fight clean or fight dirty. He's probably not as calm and cool as he tries to appear. |
| The big silver RV sprouted stubby wings tipped with turbopropters, lifted gently from the highway, and took to the sky "She handles well," Skeemo said. He was at the controls. Sam and Sapphire sat on either side of him. Sam nodded. "This should make travel a little easier for us. It helps to have rich friends, doesn't it?" "I'll say!" Skeemo said. Sapphire was studying the manual that came with the vehicle. "Wow! Look at this weapons list." "It was a prototype for the military," Sam said, "an all-purpose vehicle that could carry a special forces team anywhere. Did I mention that it floats?" "Got to find some water!" Skeemo said. "Where's the nearest big lake?" |
| Sam rolled his eye. "You'd have to go out of state for that." Skeemo chuckled nervously. "I forgot for a second that Nevada has no big lakes." "Yeah," said Sam. "Mr. Smitty came through for us real big this time." "Shame we can't test out the flotation system," said Skeemo. "Never said we couldn't do that," said Sam. "The Mayor has a big pool, almost the size of a good-sized pond." "How do you know this?" Sapphire asked. "He stopped by the Bread and Butter Saloon, and picked up Susan and a few of her co-workers for a party at his place last week, especially since his friends were short on dates," said Sam. "Slight problem, he stiffed all of them on the tip. She told me about his pool though." Skeemo grinned. "Sounds like fun." "Yeah, that it does," said Sam. "So, anything else?" Sapphire asked. "Yeah, got a call from Mr. Mutan, the organizer of the State Fair," said Sam. "Seems that the local Security Guard Union is on strike, and he needs some help for security." "Us three, protect the State Fair?" Skeemo asked. "That's at least a twenty person job, if not more." "I was thinking about asking the other Fugitive Apprehension Agents and the like if they'd be interested," said Sam. "Crime's been slow lately, and some of the others double as entertainers, like those clowns, mimes, magicians, and those others who split their time between entertaining people and arresting them." Sapphire grinned. "Sounds like fun. Think that us Bounty Hunters could get a tent?" "Might get the guy to toss that in," said Sam. "Let's talk to the others though." |
| Skeemo sat the RV down gently in the mayor's big pool with hardly a splash, but he forgot about the water that would be displaced by the craft. A small tidal wave washed deck chairs and tables several feet away from where they were positioned. "Oops," Skeemo said. "OK, she floats. I think we better leave now." Later... Bonzo the Clown was also Bonzo the Bounty Hunter. "Sure," he said. "Glad to help you out, Sam. Protecting a fair. Sounds like a soft job. Remember that renegade rattlesnake we tracked down together?" "The one where you got the bounty and I got the rattle?" "Sam! Rattlesnake rattles can be worth a lot of money if you find the right buyer for them." |
| "I'll keep that in mind," said Sam. He then called a pig named Brian O'Greadly, the owner of O'Greadly's Bail-Bondsman Association. "Hey O'Greadly, how's business?" "Slower than molasses in a freezing winter," the pig said. "Too hot for folks to skip out on their court dates, meaning that my agents are sitting on their tails." "Yeah, I hear that prisons have good quality Air Conditioning," said Sam. "Listen, Mr. Mutan, the organizer for the State Fair has asked me to help head security at the fair this year, especially what with the Security Guard Union going on strike, and I've been asking around to see who'd be interested." "What's the offer?" O'Greadly asked. "Hundred dollars per day per person that does the job, plus three free tickets each, entertainer types can preform, we have a tent to educate the public about what we do, and whatever Skips we can catch." "Sounds like a good deal," said O'Greadly. "Say, what's the whole Strike about?" "Well, it isn't with the State Fair, but it is with these guys' parent company - too many cutbacks, decrease in training, and protection, among other things," said Sam. "Remember the fire at the Circus last month?" "I remember," said O'Greadly. "Almost got turned into bacon there." "Couldn't get the smell of smoke out of my fur for a week," said Sam. "Still, those of us there helped save a good number of people." "Wait, is this about the one guy that got killed by a falling beam, and the other who is still suffering from smoke inhalation issues?" O'Greadly asked. "Yes, two off-duty security guards, and former police officers, who responded to their training to protect people, instead of getting themselves out," said Sam. "Yeah, I know how that works," said O'Greadly. "You can't just turn it off, just because you're not on the clock, or haven't worn the uniform for a decade." "Yeah," said Sam. "So, not to change the subject, but we get a tent?" O'Greadly asked. "A shared one," said Sam. "Big enough to fit you, me, and the rest of our friends and rivals." "Alright," said O'Greadly. "Count me and mine in. Oh, and Alex says 'Hello' to you." "Tell that German Shepherd that I can still outdo him in a foot race." O'Greadly chuckled. "I'll tell him that." "You got the FTA App?" Sam asked. "All of us have that App, and know to get a hold of whomever it is that has the contract on the FTA," said O'Greadly. "It's nice to see the competition helping each other out." |
| Saphire stared down into her phone intently, not looking up from it once as the conversation took place. |
| When they were all back in their regular office, Skeemo said, "We need to give that RV a name." "A name?" Sapphire said. "Yeah, every good ship has a name. You guys think about it. This is great. Now we have a mobile office in addition to our regular Las Vegas office. We can go to the fair in the RV." Sapphire had been checking their email. "There's a message here from Mr Mutan." "Hmmm," Skeemo said "He says they are getting threats in the form of notes tied to rocks and thrown through windows. That's pretty old school, isn't it? A rock through the window? He wonders if some or all of us can come early, like now, and find the rock thrower. What do you think? |
| (To give Anonymous a character, I suggest we bring in a new guy/gal, who knows nothing about the group's past history, so that nothing gets contradicted.) "Nothing wrong with that," said Sam. "By the way, you know those Help Wanted Ads we submitted a week back?" "What about them?" Skeemo asked. "Got some responses." "Really," said Skeemo. "Let's take a look. One might be worth keeping around." |
| (Gosh... w-well what would you guys like em to be? I couldn't decide for the life of me what the new addition to the team would be!) "Make sure it's a girl, we could use one to even things out." Sapphire chimes. |
| (Anonymous is Sapphire. Twiga doesn't want to participate. However, feel free to add another member. Remember we had the "associates" before?) Skeemo showed them his monitor. "Here's a girl." On Skeemo's screen was an image of Harriet Hambone, a hippopotamus. She was wearing purple stretch pants, yellow running shoes, and a pink sweater. "Can't say I admire her fashion sense," said Sapphire. "She reminds me of a schoolteacher I once had. What's her specialty?" |
| Sam had to blink. "Well, it seems that she used to be a cat burglar, and specialized in hacking the cameras, before stealing the stuff." "How did she do that?" Skeemo asked. "Seems she'd have it on a recorded loop, before going in herself," said Sam. "She even included a video from her last crime." The three watched the video - nothing seemed to be happening, but after the fifteen minute mark, the room was suddenly a mess, with everything not nailed down gone. Sapphire's eyes widened. "That's impressive. No holes in the wall or floor." "The security guard testified that he didn't hear anything unusual, until after the theft was done," said Sam. "What happened?" Skeemo asked. "Let's see," said Sam. "Seems that some small mob boss tried to assault a shopkeeper of the place she was in the process of selling the stuff to, and she got in a fight with him, and five of his goons. The police showed up, arrested the mob boss, his goons, and then they found the stolen goods on her. She took a plea deal in exchange for her testimony, and was just released from prison last month. Has to wear a tracking bracelet wherever she goes." "So, she's a reformed thief?" Sapphire asked. "That and she carried off a thousand pound marble statue like it was nothing," said Sam. "And took out five grizzly bears like it was child's play. Might prove useful in a few other things as well." |
| (Hmm... I'm not all that crazy about the member being a hippo, but if that's the most eligible candidate then I guess I can set aside my personal grievances.) "Is there any others we can pick from? I feel like we should explore all options before we choose her." Sapphire asks. |
| "Sure," Skeemo said. "You'd be surprised how many people want to work with Felcanrod now. We've built up quite a reputation." "It doesn't hurt that you keep parking that monster RV at McDonald's. People probably think Felcanrod is a snack vendor." "Here's another female, a black widow spider. Her name is Ebony Redd. Says she is very quiet, very stealthy, and very deadly. An assassin by trade but willing to venture into something new." Sapphire shook her head. "Good grief, Skeemo! A spider?" "Sure, why not? We're not bigots. If a spider can do the job, then let her do the job, I say." |
| "Well, let's see what else we have here," said Sam, as he scrolled through the applicants. "Former cop, who got fired for reckless endangerment of his partner - pass on him. An obvious bounty hunter wanna-be, complete with leather and a sawed-off shotgun - pass on him. A soccer mom looking for a job with flexible hours - that's a maybe. And this guy's 'I've done things so Top Secret that if I told you I'd have to kill you' marks him as - Forget You, with an emphases on the first letter in that phrase." "What if they were a former secret agent?" Skeemo asked. "They'd claim to be an accountant, or some such meaningless job," said Sam. "Remember in Japan, when I told you about Anubis?" "The Accountant that turned out to be a deadly Assassin?" Skeemo asked. "The incident that started your legend?" Sam nodded. "He killed ten people with a pencil eraser, and then some." "You know, you shouldn't speak of the Devil, for he might be listening." The three looked up, and saw the jackal standing at the door, in a rather casual manner. "Nice place you have," said Anubis. "It's been a few years, Sam." "What are you doing here?" Sam asked, keeping his hands on his desk. "I have family in the area," Anubis said, as he walked up the the desk, opened a drawer, and took out a Desert Eagle, as well as a shortened double barrel shotgun. "Nice to see that you are ready for anything." "Do I have to ask again?" Anubis chuckled. "I'm just visiting. Might go to the fair. I heard that you would be in charge of security there." "I ain't going to ask how you heard," said Sam. "Smart." Anubis picked up the computer. "Looking up possible applicants, I take." "What of it?" "The hippo thief is a good one. The spider assassin, forget her. The ex-cop, pass on him. Ignore the wannabe. The soccer mom, you might want to hire her. As for the idiot, forget him with a capital F." "Why the thief and the soccer mom?" Sapphire asked. "The thief would be a good security guard, and the soccer mom would make a good secretary," said Anubis. "Or, perhaps it would be better the other way around, with the thief as the secretary, and the soccer mom as the security guard. Of course, it is your choice." He set the computer back down, and walked out of the office. "Felt like being in a rather dangerous place with him here," said Skeemo. "It was like I was almost lunch." "Be glad it was just a friendly visit," said Sam. "Like I've said, he makes me seem like a meter maid." |
| "What did you think of his suggestions?" Skeemo said. "He's thinking about like I am on it, except I wouldn't be so quick to reject the spider. When it comes to anything requiring stealth, spiders can be very good." "Gives me the creeps just thinking about a stealthy spider." "That's because you know how stealthy they can be." "Maybe," Skeemo said. He pulled out his phone. "I'll call the hippo and tell her to come in for an interview." "Better not get in the habit of calling her the hippo." Skeemo pointed at Sam and grinned. "Right!" |
| "So, we have Harriet Hambone, hippo former thief, Ebony Redd, black widow spider assassin, and, we have, Debra Smith, human soccer mom," said Sam. "So, who is this Debra?" Sapphire asked. "Well, she's human, with five kids, who all have after-school activities, which explains the flexible hours. No law enforcement experience. Minimal criminal record, in the form of some speeding and parking violations, but who doesn't have those. Has a degree in Business, with plenty of experience in accounting, as well as secretarial work." "Well, if nothing else, she can handle the phone calls," said Skeemo. "So, call these three up, interview them, and, if we like them, three month trial period, with lower level issues," said Sam. "After that, set things up for the Fair." "So, how will it go?" Sapphire asked. "Alright," said Sam. "Here's how it goes; Let's suppose you and me represent Fugitive Apprehension agents from two different groups, and let's say Skeemo is a fugitive. Now, let's say that I spot him in the crowd, but I don't have the papers to bring him in, because he isn't on my list, but you have the papers, and he's on your list, and you're on the other side of the fairground. Can't just go and find you, as I might lose him." "That's right," said Sapphire. "So, here's what we do; I'd call you, let you know that I've spotted Skeemo at the popcorn stand on the west side of the fairground, and then I follow him, so that I keep him in my sight." "Um, why do I have to be the bad guy?" Skeemo asked. "Because the others aren't here at the moment," said Sam. "Anyways, Sapphire, I let you know of Skeemo's movements, carefully follow him, and you just head towards our location, and once we corner Skeemo by the Ferris Wheel, we apprehend him, put the cuffs on him, and turn him into one of twelve police officers, who will also be helping us, you get your body receipt, and then we'll split the bounty - with me getting twenty percent, for my part." "Sounds fair," said Sapphire. "Being that my agency put up the bond that let Skeemo be free in the first place." "Yep, he's a slippery rodent for sure," said Sam. "Alright, a joke is a joke, but knock it off," said Skeemo. "Well, that's how it will go," said Sam. "Now, let's see about getting things set up. I know that those who are part-time entertainers will be having fun. Can't wait to see Melvin the Magnificent pull off the old 'Disappearing and Won't be Back' trick on someone." |
| Melvin the Magnificent was having problems of his own. His wife of twenty years, Hildegard, was in an uproar. "That's the last time you're going to pull your disappearing act on me. I looked like a fool standing there by myself." "But Honey..." "Don't you honey me, you fake sugar bee. If you loved me you wouldn't disappear whenever you felt like it." "But it's what I do!" Melvin said. "It's why I am magnificent!" "Oh stop it, please? So now you believe your own sales pitch? I mourn for the old days when we first met and you were a clear-eyed con man. Now you're just a blurry-eyed, middle-aged drunk who believes his own con. It's pathetic! I don't want to talk to you anymore." Melvin the Magnificent disappeared. Hildegarde shook her finger at the empty air where Melvin once stood. "That's exactly what I'm talking about." |
| Hildegarde sighed. She knew exactly where her husband was - dropping a smoke pellet blinded someone's eyes long enough for him to press a button, or pull a lever, and he'd be on the other side of the wall, or under the stage. At the moment, Melvin would be heading to his study, opening a safe, and getting out a bottle of whiskey, or some such thing. She really couldn't blame him - it had been a bad month, financially. Sure, Melvin had been part of that big bust some months back, when he, and almost fifty others, worked together to catch a murderer with a five million dollar bounty and, after taxes, managed to get eighty thousand dollars for his share. There had been talk of going on a cruise, until Melvin's father suffered from a debilitating stroke, and hospital bills ate up the money. Then, the party gigs dried up, and, being a freelance recovery agent didn't help when most people in need of a bond went to other people. Hildegarde had tried to get her husband to join forces with the other entertainer types, like the Krazy Klowns, or Mute Mimes, even for temporary work, but Melvin was just too independent to let someone else be Head Magician. She then heard her phone ring. "Melvin the Magnificent - Entertaining and Entrapping. How may we help you?" "How are you doing, Hildegarde?" Hildegarde chuckled. "It's good to hear your voice. It's been a while." "How are things on your end?" "Things are just fine. Everything is just fine." "Well, I heard about Melvin's father, and I've heard that things were somewhat difficult." Hildegarde chuckled nervously. "People over-exaggerate. Things are doing well." "Hilda, I know that you and Melvin are too proud to accept money, so I won't bother asking you if you need any," said Sam. "That being said, I have a job lined up that Melvin might enjoy - working security at the State Fair. Melvin can have a tent for his magic shows, and, if he notices someone who is FTA in the audience, he can do the Disappearing Trick on them." "What's the pay?" Hildegarde asked. "Hundred dollars a day, three free tickets, twenty percent of the bounty on FTAs that belong to other agencies, who will also be there, plus tips." "Sounds good," said Hildegarde. "Count us in." "Just get him away from the bottle," said Sam. He hung up. Hildegarde closed her phone, and pushed a button, causing a panel to open up. "Marvin! You'd better put that thing back in the safe - You got a gig at the State Fair!" |
| "Ha!" said Melvin. "What do I know about being a clown? Oh wait. I know a lot, don't I?" Hildegarde snatched the bottle out of her husband's hand. "It's not a job as a clown, idiot. It's a job as a bounty hunter." "Ohhhh," he said, hungrily eyeing the bottle. "And no more drinking until after we do the job!" "Darn it! I guess you're right. I'm not at my best when I'm drunk. Hahaha!" Skeemo and Sapphire and Sam were in the office. "How's it going, Sam? Got everybody lined up for the State Fair?" "Almost. What about you guys. Did you decide between Harriet, Ebony, and Debra to be our new assistant?" |
"We'll try them all out, at least for the next few months," said Sapphire. Just then, the door opened, and in came a tiger wearing a suit, which advertised Mob Lawyer. "I'm here on the behalf of a client, Mr. Stripes." Sam chuckled. "What's the matter?" "He has arranged it so that he can be out for the Fair," the lawyer said. "Of course, he'll be wearing an electronic tracking bracelet." "And, you stopped by, so that we wouldn't get the wrong impression," Sam said, with a grin. "Actually, I've been tasked to see that you get these three tickets." The lawyer pulled out an envelope. "They are to go to Mr. and Mrs. George Richard Spots, as well as their daughter, Maria." Sam looked at the lawyer. "Are Mr. Stripes and his son on speaking terms?" "No, but I'm sure that Mr. Spots knows who has been paying his hospital bills, after that, unfortunate, incident with Mr. Skies, when he was shot, and his daughter was kidnapped," the lawyer said. "I remember that rescue," said Sam. "I'm just glad I was wearing a vest. So, the girl still doesn't know that her grandfather is a powerful mob boss?" "Mr. Stripes would like to keep it that way," the lawyer said. "He'll tell her, when he thinks she's ready for the truth." Sam nodded. "Understood." At this, the door opened once more, and in came a certain shrew, and his polar bear guards. "Tony," the shrew said. "It's nice to see you. How's my friend, Mr. Stripes?" "He'll be out for the Fair, Padre Grande," the lawyer said. "Some of his family will also be there." "He got his two asshole sons out?" Padre Grande asked. "I thought he had more brains than that." "No, but the one he disowned, the eldest, will be there, along with his wife and daughter." Padre Grande nodded thoughtfully. "I've heard nothing but good things about him. Can't say he deserved to be stuck in a wheelchair though." "Well, I have more business to conduct," the lawyer said. "Later." Padre Grande then looked at Sam. "Mr. Stripes and I have some minor business to conduct at the Fair." "Alright," said Sam. "Anything else?" "Yes, I'll be bringing some of my family, including my sister's son, Dennis," said Padre Grande. "That being said, I have a big favor to ask you - don't let him know that I'm a high-level criminal." Sam raised his eyebrow. "I'm curious." "My nephew, he has that, um, what is it called Boris?" "The young man is Autistic." "Yes, that's it. Talk precious gems to him, and he'll tell you everything. Ask him about anything else though..." the shrew shrugged. Sam nodded. "Understood." |
| After they left Skeemo shook his head. "How are we going to remember all that? I always depended on Sapphire to keep track of everything, but now that she's going to be out on maternity leave..." "Don't worry," Sam said. "I've got a good memory. And what about the new people? Harriet, Ebony, and Debra? We'll assign one of them to keeping track." "OK. Not the spider, though. I'm putting her out in the field, She gives me the creeps when she's in the office." A few days later the Fair opened. Skeemo stopped by Melvin the Magnificent's tent. "Everything going alright in here?" "Couldn't be better," Melvin said, waving a bottle around. His wife, Hildegarde, snatched it from his hand. "Give me that! You promised!" |
| Meanwhile, Sam was at a tent that was being used as a Bounty Hunter Q&A place. Sam looked at the pig; O'Greadly was answering questions. Then, he felt a vibration on his phone. He looked at it, before looking into the crowd. He sent an Insta-Text. "How about a demonstration?" he asked. O'Greadly looked over at him, and glanced at his phone. "That is a good idea! Pick someone out to play the part of the Fugitive for us." He looked over at the one police officer in the tent. "Mind playing Desk Sargent?" The police officer grinned. Sam stood up, and walked around, until a young boy stepped in front of him, putting on what he thought was a tough-guy face. Sam chuckled as he looked at the boy's mother, before looking back at O'Greadly and the others, and winked. "Well now, I see a highly dangerous desperado - ain't he the one that robbed the bank of El Paso of a Zillion Dollars?" O'Greadly gave a look of mock fright. "He's too dangerous for you Sam!" Sam's face became one of mock fear. "I agree - far too dangerous for the likes of me! I suggest he stay in the custody of his mother. Right officer?" The officer nodded quickly. "That's right - he'd bust down the jail doors in two seconds!" The boy frowned. "But, I want to get arrested." Sam looked up at the boy's mother, and grinned, before looking at the boy again. "Ah, but being arrested is no fun; arresting people however, is. Would you like to arrest someone?" "Sure!" "Good. Let's find someone." Sam looked at the boy's mother, who nodded. They stopped before a young man near the back. Sam grinned, as he looked at the man, and the man looked back at him, slightly worried. "Mind letting the boy arrest you; it's all in good fun." The man grinned back, nervously. "Sure." "Turn around," Sam said, as he gave the boy the cuffs. "Now kid, be sure to cuff his wrists good and tight." "Sure thing," the boy said, as he put the cuffs on. "First rule," said Sam. "Get the cuffs on, any way you can; be polite, use a trick, or set a trap." "Alright," the cuffed man said. "Second rule," said Sam. "Grab a hold of your target." The boy grabbed the man, as did Sam. "Next, take him to the Pokey." They walked over to the police officer. "Got papers to bring him in?" Sam looked out at the crowd. "Oops! I don't have those." A crocodile came in from the side of the tent. "But I do. Richard Simmons; you failed to show up for your court date yesterday." Sam looked at the man, who was now afraid, and grinned. "Cuffs. Grab, Pokey." Then, he whispered. "Play nice, for the kid." The man grinned, as the Crocodile served the papers, and was taken by the officer. |
| Skeemo walked around the fair with Debra the soccer mom. "Can you spot the bounty hunters?" Skeemo said. "Oh no. I don't know who they are. They are disguised well, aren't they?" "Let's hope so. Most perps don't know who the hunters are anyway, but it's good to keep as low a profile as possible. Do you have that list of possibles I prepared?" "You mean the one of fugitives we might catch in this sting?" "Yes. Make sure you have it handy. I'll call you from time to time to get a check on someone." She frowned. "Why don't you carry the list then?" "Because I'm paying you to carry it. Do you want to work for us or not?" "Oh yes, oh yes. I'm sorry. It's just your ways seem a little strange to me sometimes." "Don't worry," Skeemo said. "All my moves are well thought. I have years of experience. I know what I'm doing." "OK, then. I believe that." |
| "More like he's the lazy, yet devious one of the bunch," said a voice with a Russian accent. Debra turned, and found herself looking at a well-dressed polar bear, whose stance seemed to say Professional Bodyguard, among other things. "I take it that you know Skeemo here?" "My boss has had dealings with him and his friends, although he prefers talking to the wolf," the bear said, as he extended his hand. "I am Boris Chovski." Debra accepted it. "Is your boss also in the bounty hunting industry?" Boris grinned. "Not exactly." He looked over at a stall. "Now, if you don't mind, I have a job to do." He glanced at Skeemo. "Rat, tell the wolf that Padre Grande is meeting with Mr. Stripes. Let him know to tell his friends to not disturb them." Debra watched Skeemo nod. "I understand." The bear walked away, towards the stand, where he stood next to a young adult shrew, who had a look on his face that indicated something that said he was "different". Holding onto the shrew's hand was a young feline girl, who was covered in a mixture of spots and stripes. "Who was that?" Debra asked. "Ever hear of Padre Grande and Mr. Stripes?" Skeemo asked. "Um, wealthy businessmen?" Debra suggested. "Yes, but on the criminal side," said Skeemo. "Big-time crime bosses." "Are we going to apprehend them?" Debra asked. "Actually, Mr. Stripes has already been arrested, and is currently out on temporary parole, just for the fair," said Skeemo. "Padre Grande is also smart where his criminal dealings are concerned; neither will try anything where witnesses might see them. Also, if those two are any indication, both have family in the vicinity. They might hate each other, but they are smart enough not to harm the innocent." "Who are they?" Debra asked. "I've seen the girl before, when me and the rest saved her life," said Skeemo. "She's Mr. Stripe's granddaughter, but she doesn't know the relationship. As for the shrew, that has to be Padre Grande's nephew, who not only has a mental issue of sorts, but he doesn't know that his uncle is a criminal." "So, by having their relatives here, they are saying that they won't try anything that could potentially harm the impressions that their own family has of them," said Debra. Skeemo nodded. "Yes, and we've been asked to respect that fact." He sent out a text. "Now, to show off some of the others whom we are working alongside of here, like that clown juggling bowling balls and bowling pins." Debra chuckled. "He looks ridiculous." Skeemo nodded. "That's what one person said, just before he was tripped up, and apprehended, for failure to show up at his court date, over an issue involving possession of illegal drugs with intent to sell." |
| Debra looked again at the clown. "Did he use those balls and pins?" "Yes, he did," Skeemo said. "He's an expert with them. He can hit you in the head with a pin from farther away than you would ever imagine was possible and he is just as lethal with the balls. You know those pins and balls are solid hardwood. They're heavy. They pack a wallop." "Wow! And he just looks like a harmless clown." "Yeah. Excellent disguise." As they walked on, Skeemo tried to point out to Debra who the various bounty hunters were. "You need to know because we've given them all a picture of you so that if you happen to be near them and they think they spotted somebody you can check our list and also let us know with your phone." "I'm just going to be walking around by myself?" "Yes, unless you want someone with you. We can easily hire an escort. He wouldn't know what was going on, but if it would make you feel safer?" "No, that's okay. It's a State Fair. I guess I'm safe enough." |
| "By the way, you have a Smartphone, right?" Skeemo asked. "Got one when I got plans for the kids," said Debra. "Good," said Skeemo. "Then, there's an APP you might want to download." He held out his hand. "Does it cost money?" Debra asked. "Given that you work for us, no," said Skeemo. Debra handed over her phone, and Skeemo downloaded the APP. "It's called 'Fugitive Recognition System'," said Skeemo. "Basically, the moment someone is declared a Fugitive, they are placed into the system, and if your phone sees them, you get an alert, letting you know who it is, and providing a number for an Insta-Text, which is sent to the person who has the number, who is one of the bounty hunters after that specific person, as well as a picture showing their location at the time. Odds are, the other person will ask you to follow the fugitive." "But, what if I don't think that I can follow them, or if they come after me?" Debra asked. "All you have to do, is send a photo of the person, and everyone else in the area will know who to look for," said Skeemo. "Also, should your life be in danger, there's the Bounty Hunter tent, there's police officers, Krazy Klowns' Tent, Mute Mimes' Tent, as well as the Magician's Tent. In fact, head into any entertainer's tent, and someone will be there." "Seriously?" Debra asked. "For some of the guys here, entertaining is their Bread and Butter, while Bounty Hunting lets them have the occasional steak dinner, as it were," said Skeemo. "So, how is it that you know these people?" Debra asked. "A dangerous criminal with a five million dollar bounty on his head, plus a priest and, shall we say, a whore, who were his intended victims, plus the fact that we needed a whole lot of back up and we were willing to work with our rivals to save those two," said Skeemo. "The bounty was split a little over fifty ways, meaning, after taxes, everyone got the better part of eighty thousand dollars, which most found to be very useful. After that, we started working together more often, letting each other know where the other groups' FTAs were, and all of that stuff. Its turned out to be highly useful, especially on jobs like this. Granted, not all of them are on the level our group is, but an extra pair of eyes in the right place is always useful." |
| "It's all so much bigger than I imagined it would be," Debra said. "What did you imagine?" Skeemo said. "Oh, I don't know. A small office with a couple of over-the-hill former police officers. A lot of coffee drinking and talking about old times. An occasional lead on a fugitive. Not much for me to do but handle the snail mail and try to teach the old guys how to use a computer." Skeemo laughed. "Hey! I may be older but I'm not over-the-hill. I'm still climbing. We're bigger and better than we have ever been." "I see that now," Debra said. "I just hope I can keep up." "Don't worry. You're doing fine. Just try not to get pregnant like Sapphire did and go out on maternity leave." "That's the last thing I want, another kid." |
| "Bonjour, mon bon rat et ma dame," said a certain French accented voice. Skeemo gritted his teeth, as he turned his head, and found himself looking at a skunk, who looked back at him, with a grin. "What do you want, Pepe de Fourrure?" The skunk chuckled. "Est-ce une façon de saluer un ami?" Skeemo groaned. "Speak English." "For the lovely lady, I will," Pepe said, as he took Debra's hand, and kissed it. "I see, you have five lovely children; three boys, two girls, to say nothing about the various pets you have. Your mother is very proud of you." Debra gasped. "My mother has been dead for ten years, and how did you know about my children?" Pepe chuckled. "I have my ways." "I'm surprised that Sam let you come here," said Skeemo. "It wouldn't be a good Fair without a Medium," said Pepe. "Besides, Sam said that I had my uses." He looked at Debra. "Come by my tent some time. Your mother has some very important advice." He walked away. "Who is he?" Debra asked. "Well, Sam isn't sure if he's a really good con artist, or a true real-life medium, or both," said Skeemo. "He's helped out from time to time, such as when this basketball player was suspected of killing his girlfriend - turns out it was accidentally caused by someone from a rival company of the place that the wife worked out. He did a reenactment, and the guy confessed to the deed." "He seems real polite," said Debra. "Acted like a gentleman." "He's a real charmer when it comes to the ladies," said Skeemo. "If a single woman enters his place, even money he'll end up taking her out to dinner, even money he'll be taking her to his place, and sure money he'll be taking her to his bed." "So, he gets around a lot," said Debra. "Well, more than I do, that's for sure," said Skeemo. "Still surprised by Sapphire; I didn't even know she had a boyfriend." "And Sam?" "He's engaged," said Skeemo. "Although I doubt he and Susan are waiting for the wedding before trying to have a child." "And this Susan?" "Works upstairs at the Bread and Butter Saloon." "Isn't that the place that doubles as a brothel?" Debra asked. "Yes, and she works upstairs." "So, she's a, um...." "A Honey Bunny," Skeemo said, as he picked up a plate of fried dough, and placed a five down for it. "How does that work?" "Well enough apparently," said Skeemo. "Want some of this?" |
| "Ugh! That's bad for your heart." Skeemo took a big bite of the fried dough. "Is it? But it's good for your stomach. It's like a contest, isn't it? Who will win? Mr. Heart or Mr. Belly?" Skeemo patted his stomach, which did stick out a bit over his belt. "Looks like Mr. Belly won." Debra smiled. "I'll just see if I can find a salad." "At the State Fair? No way! Grab yourself a corn dog and be happy." From the crowd came a voice. "Skeemo! Is that you?" Skeemo looked around and spotted a familiar face. "If it's not me it's a good impression." A koala waddled over. "I haven't seen you since I retired. Who's the chick? New girlfriend?" "No, a new employee. Debra, meet Puddly Rimbone, a man of many careers, one of the few who has been both a cop and a criminal." Debra said, "It sounds like you were an imposter." Puddly whistled. "She's sharp, this one! Right you are, little lady. I was a master of disguise. But for a good cause, to con people out of their money and put it in my pocket." |
| "Yeah, until you got arrested for fraud and got put away," said Skeemo. Puddly laughed. "I served my time, and now I'm free. Later." The koala waddled away. "Who was that?" Debra asked. "Let's just say we used to be friends, until certain numbers didn't add up," said Skeemo. He looked a Debra. "Think you'll be alright on your own?" Debra chuckled. "It's the Fair, what's the worse that could happen?" "Good luck," said Skeemo. "Remember to get yourself something to eat." As Debra walked around, she soon felt a vibration on her phone. She pulled it out, and saw an image that caused her to pale. "Not him." "It's been a while, honey." Debra turned, and found herself looking up at a grizzly bear. "The court says you're not allowed to come within a hundred feet of me." The bear grinned. "Funny, I don't see them, but I see you, and as far as I'm concerned, you're still my wife, and I'm still your husband." He pointed to the ring on his finger. "'Til Death do we Part'. I'l sure you remember those words." "Robert, just walk way from me, right now, or you'll be in real trouble," said Debra. "The man I married was a kind and caring person. You are nothing but a horrible monster, who likes to abuse people." Robert grabbed her shoulder, and grinned. "Are you sure about that?" Debra glanced at her phone, and saw the "Send Insta-Text" button. Robert glanced at her phone as well. "So, you think that you can just report my presence to one of those Bounty Hunters that's just wandering around, in hopes of getting part of my bounty." "I just want you to stay away from me," Debra growled. "I remember what you did to me, and the kids." "Is there a problem here?" Robert turned his head, and Debra found herself looking at an elderly, yet, well-fit tiger, as well as a short shrew, and standing behind both of them was a number of polar bears and feline types, who just had bodyguard written all over them. "What's to to you?" Robert asked. "I'm just talking to my wife. Now buzz off." He tried to shove the tiger, only for one of the polar bears to grab his wrist. Debra gasped as she recognized the polar bear; Boris. The polar bear gave her a friendly smile, before glaring at Robert. "Thank you," the tiger said. "Don't mention it," Boris said. "Count yourself lucky," the tiger said. "My friend's bodyguard just saved your life." Robert growled. "Who are you?" "I'm Mr. Stripes," the tiger said. "And my friend is Padre Grande." That was when Robert started to shake. "I'm sorry. I was mistaken." "I'm sure you were," said Mr. Stripes. "Let him go." Boris let go, and Robert walked away. |
| "Thank you," Debra said. "I'm sorry to cause trouble." Mr. Stripes bowed. "It was not you who caused the trouble, young lady. It was the grizzly bear. I see you are acquainted with Boris?" "Yes, I call him my friend." "Please join us as we partake of the refreshing beverages offered by this wonderful fair. Lemonade with no gin in it. It will be a treat." "I'd like to, but I'm kind of working. I'm not sure I should go sit down and drink." Mr Stripes chuckled. "Do not worry. I know your bosses well. It will be fine." |
The tiger and shrew, as well as their guards, took her to a set of tables, where they bought her drink, but Debra still had questions about the pair, who were high-ranking criminals. "Um, excuse me, but, aren't you supposed to be in prison for, whatever it is you're suppose to be in prison for?" Debra asked. "Temporary Parole," said Mr. Stripes, as he touched an electronic bracelet. "I have to return to the prison at the end of the fair." "Still, it isn't normal for someone like you to bet let out, right?" Mr. Stripes chuckled. "You'd be surprised at what you can do, providing that you know the right people, and of course, act the part of a model prisoner. Besides, there's plenty of police officers and bounty hunters around; one wrong move, and I doubt that I'd be able to get the chance to enjoy another fair for at least fifteen years." "And that would make doing business a bit difficult as well," said Padre Grande. "They record prison calls, meaning that we'd have to talk in code, and I occasionally forget which code word goes with what property that we are trying to discuss over who will be collecting the rent money from." "Indeed," said Mr. Stripes. "So, how do you know that brute back there?" Padre Grande. "I come to these places because they are family-friendly. If I were you, I'd report him." "I kind of plan on it," Debra said, as she looked at the phone; Robert's image was still on it. She pressed the "Insta-Text" button. "Now he's someone else's problem." "Mind answering my friend's question," said Mr. Stripe. "Although I can guess the story." Debra sighed, as she looked at a fading tan-line on her finger. "He's my ex-husband. We got married when he got me pregnant in high school. He got a good job at a canning factory, made plenty of money, but then, things changed; the factory closed, he lost his job, then he managed to get one as a security guard, and then one as a bouncer at a nightclub, which was good, but the whole power over others began to get to him, and eventually, he thought that he had power over me, and the kids. I managed to work up the courage to leave him, get a separation, and then a divorce, not to mention a restraining order." "He ever get physical with you?" Padre Grande asked. "Yes, and worse." The shrew and tiger looked at each other; both had plenty of skeletons in their respective closets, some of them literal, but there were things even they wouldn't do. "Sam and his associates are good people to know," said Mr. Stripes. "If you ever need any help, you have but to ask them." Debra chuckled nervously. "Um, thanks." |
| Skeemo was purchasing his third corn dog when Pepe de Fourrure walked up. He shook his head and said, "Tsk-tsk. Skeemo, I thought you were a gourmet." Skeemo squirted mustard on his corn dog. "Pepe, if you don't like corn dogs then you don't know what good food is." "Ha! I know igood food is not processed animal parts wrapped in fried corn batter." Skeemo frowned. "You can make anything sound bad if you choose negative words. You could say mushrooms sautéed in garlic butter was fried fungus." Pepe pointed at the corn dog. "Calling that a corn dog does not make it any more edible, but I did not come over here to discuss fair food. I spotted a fugitive and I thought I would give you the tip on it." Skeemo raised his eyebrows. "And why not pursue it yourself?" Pepe adjusted his collar. "I have planned a rendezvous with a beautiful woman today. You know what they say, Pleasure before work." "Actually they say the opposite, but I'll take that tip. Who is it?" |
| "Robert Grizo, ex-husband of that lovely lady you were with," said Pepe. "Ex-husband?" Skeemo asked. "Five kids do not come from thin air," said Pepe. "Her mother tells me that he's highly abusive towards others, including Debra and the children." "What am I dealing with?" Skeemo asked. Pepe grinned. "Check your phone." Skeemo looked, and saw the image. "A grizzly bear?" Meanwhile, Robert had managed to end up in the magician's tent, where he could catch his breath. Mr. Stripes and Padre Grande! Here! At the Fair! He'd heard about both of them during his brief time in jail, and he had tried to shove Mr. Stripes! He wondered if he had signed his Death Certificate. That was when he heard the voice. "And now, Ladies and Gentlemen, you will see me, Melvin the Magnificent, cause our volunteer from the audience, to disappear." Robert looked, and saw the magician, wearing a ridiculous outfit, stand beside a case, which had someone standing inside of it.The doors closed and the case started to spin. "And now, to say the magic words to make him vanish! Zipity, Bipity, Alakazam!" The case stopped, and the doors opened, revealing a stand with a note. "Oh my," the magician said, as he picked the note up. "It seems that the police wanted to talk to our volunteer over an issue or two. Can I get a round of applause for him, wherever he is?" The audience began laughing, and clapping. Robert decided now was the time for him to make his own vanishing act, and stepped outside of the tent, and started walking around. That was when he noticed some of the other wandering entertainers; every so often, one would look in his direction, and look at him, as he kept walking. Eventually, he found himself at a table in a far corner, trying to enjoy a soda, but he couldn't shake the feeling that he was being watched. He looked at the wolf to his left; he seemed normal enough, no Security sticker or anything, and wasn't wearing any clown makeup or anything. "It's a hot day," the wolf said. "It is," Robert said. "Hotter for some than it is for others," the wolf said. "The fair hired a bunch of bounty hunters to be security, and some of those guys are part-time entertainers, so the fair got a good deal for hiring them. Of course, they are nothing compared to those who got them on board." "Who?" Robert asked. "Felcanrod." A shiver went down Robert's spine. "I've heard about them. Some sort of military-type unit, who can take on whole armies." The wolf chuckled. "Slight exaggeration." The wolf turned his head, and Robert saw just how messed up his face was; half of it was normal, and the other half, the less said, the better. "Nice to see you, Robert Grizo. I'm Samuel Blacktail. Please do yourself a favor, and don't make a scene." |
| Robert Grizo tried to jump up, but strong hands on his shoulders held him down in his chair. "Thank you, Boris," Sam said. "Robert, I asked you politely not to make a scene. Now we must cuff you, I'm afraid. Hands behind your back, please." Sam pulled out his phone. "Skeemo, send the meat wagon to my location." "Meat wagon?" Skeemo said. "Whatever we're using to transport the fugitives to the lock up." "Oh. The Sheriff is taking care of that. I'll send him to your GPS location. Who did you collar? Was it Debra's ex?" "Yep. Robert Grizo, the big bad bear." "She'll be thrilled," Skeemo said. "Will she?" Sam said. "I'll bet you a dinner that she won't be thrilled and that instead she will feel sorry for the bastard." "How's that possible?" Skeemo said. "Abusive relationships. They can get weird." |
| "So, just what is your relationship to that bitch?" Robert growled. "You're sleeping with her, right?" Sam looked right at him. "I'm her boss, nothing more. You, on the other hand, are worth twenty dollars to her, and eighty to Gomez Hermano, the bondsman who secured your release from prison, plus the rest of the money he put up for you. You should have gone to court; you probably could have gotten away with just the restraining order and community service, or something, but now your next bail will be more expensive, and there will be at least three months in prison." "No." Robert started to hyperventilate. "Mr. Stripes will kill me!" Sam looked up at Boris. "Did he do anything to that old tiger that I should know about?" Boris grinned. "Not a thing, Mr. Blacktail." Sam looked back at Robert and grinned. "Count yourself lucky; if you had done something to that tiger, you'd be dead right now. As it is, you'll probably be fine; Mr. Stripes will do nothing that will endanger his early release. Of course, me and him go back a ways, especially after some incidents that involved members of his family, some of whom are here now." The wolf glanced down towards the other end of the tables, where a wheelchair-bound tiger was sitting with a female cheetah, and a young girl that seemed to be a mix. With them was a young adult shrew who had a certain look on his face that said that he was "different", as well as two older shrews, who looked like the sort who would always be willing to care for their child. Sam looked up at Boris. "Padre Grande's family, right?" "Sister, brother-in-law, and nephew Dennis." "Yes, the one who knows his gems, and little of all else," said Sam. "Wouldn't mind getting to know them better." Soon enough, a couple of officers came, and took Robert away. "He won't come to much harm," said Boris, once the police left. "Maybe a mild beating from the other inmates once they find out what he did, but Mr. Stripes won't do a thing to him; he's little more than a thug compared to the likes of him." Sam nodded. "Figured as much. Of course, Mr. Stripes is something of a gentleman, or at the least, has the decency to act like one." "I'd best get back to keeping an eye on Dennis," said Boris. "Some folks might try to take advantage of him, like those guys at the game stalls." Sam grinned. "I had a word with them about that sort of thing; feel free to cheat those with plenty of money, but not the kids, or those who are mentally ill. After all, kids, and those with the mind of a kid, deserve to win." Boris smiled. "Nice to know; I'd hate to accidentlly break a few fingers if someone cheated Dennis." He then walked away. "Having a good day?" A chill ran down Sam's spine. "What are you up to, Anubis?" "Enjoying the fair." Sam heard a cup settle down next to him. "So, are you having fun?" |
| Debra continued her walk around the fair. At the "Test-Your-Strength" stand a couple of gorillas were taking turns with the hammer and razzing each other. "You call that a swing, Curly? You're as creaky as an old man. Loosen up. Give me that hammer." "Ring the bell, Popeye. What's the matter? Forgot to eat your spinach today?" Finally one of them did manage to ring the bell. The other one had no crack to say about that. Instead, he took his time. He spit on his hands and rubbed them together. Then he hefted the huge hammer, swung it far back,and with a mighty forward swing slammed it onto the hit pad. The bell clanged loudly and broke loose from the top of the pole and went sailing across the aisle. "Now that's how you do it!" said a bystander. |
| Debra rolled her eyes, and kept walking. Eventually, she found herself by a tent, which had a sign that said, "Receive Messages from The Other Side." Curious, she stepped inside, and found Pepe de Fourrure sitting at a table, wearing a silly outfit, and with a glowing crystal ball floating in front of him. "How are you doing that?" she asked. "A dim light bulb on thin wire stand, and of course, little to no light from outside to ruin things," said Pepe. "I mostly use it because people expect certain things. They expect me to talk weird, hold your hand, and all of that nonsense. In truth, none of this is needed. I can pass on messages from your loved ones as plain as day, but sometimes folks take you more seriously when you look like a mystic instead of just someone you see on the sidewalk." "So, this is really real, and not just an act?" Pepe grinned. "I won't say I never took advantage of it to get money or a meal, but, when things are serious, I don't bother to dress up. I do have a message for you from your mother; namely being that she is very proud of the woman you've become." |
| Debra smiled. "Tell her thank you and if I have become anything it is because of her." "A lovely thought," Pepe said. "Are you happy that the grizzly bear is being put away?" Debra frowned. "I know Robert is a terrible person and has done horrible things, but once, a long time ago, we were in love. Do you understand what I am trying to say?" "Yes," Pepe said. "Your feelings are conflicted. You feel two opposite things at once. You are both happy and not happy about his arrest." "That's it," she said. "I guess I'll work it out, resolve it somehow, but it's very stressful at the moment. Thank goodness I've got this job to keep my mind occupied." "And the kids." "Oh yes!" she said and laughed. "And the kids... but, Robert is their father." |
| "You're talking to a guy who has spoken to spirits all his life," said Pepe. "Your husband was abusive towards you and the kids, but, perhaps, things will change. Maybe he'll change back to the way he once was, or, maybe he'll still be an abusive jerk, but perhaps you'll find someone who cares for you and your children." Debra chuckled. "Did my mother put you up to that?" Pepe grinned. "No, but I've seen it before; sometimes one's second love turns out to be their True Love." "Tell me you're not just saying this, just to try and see about asking me to go out with you, or anything like that." Pepe laughed. "Good one. No, I won't ask you out, at least, not at this moment and time. Maybe in a month, once you get to know me better, I might ask you out for a cup of coffee, and I'll work my way up from there." "Nice to know." "That being said, I do make plenty of money because of my abilities, and I do know of some rather nice, and expensive, restaurants that I like to take my perspective dates to," said Pepe. "Of course, knowing how to get in touch with certain people tends to make getting reservations easier." "Like the managers?" "No, their mothers and fathers - you'd be surprised what people will do to hear the words of their long-dead loved ones," said Pepe. "That being said, a number of ladies I go out with are just in need of a quick fix, if you get my meaning, and the meal is just a bonus. As it is, you won't believe the nagging I get from my own family over my lifestyle - my mother wants to know when I'll actually settle down and provide her with grandkids, like the rest of my siblings have." "You could say that you're working on it," Debra suggested. "That would be a little tricky to do, considering that she's looking over my shoulder right now," said Pepe. Debra looked, but saw no one. Then, she realized what the skunk meant. "I see. I guess it would be hard to lie to the dead, especially since they see what you're doing, right?" Pepe nodded. "Besides, one shouldn't lie to their own mother, especially without a good reason." "By the way, are you from New Orleans?" Debra asked. "I mean, you tend to speak French, and your tent has plenty of Voodoo themes to it." "Born and breed on the Bayou, and I grew up hunting gators and such, until my mother decided to move to the French Quarter, and when my abilities started kicking in, well, folks labeled me a freak, until I decided to sell my services to tourists on Bourbon Street, when I started to make money." "And, the part-time bounty hunting/police consulting?" Debra asked. "Sometimes the dead need help solving their death, especially if it was a violent one, or if the life of a child is at stake," said Pepe. "One shouldn't stand by when they can provide aid." |
| "I agree," Debra said. "I guess I better get back to work." "Have you been by the Target Shoot?" Pepe asked. "You might find it interesting." "I'm not sure what you mean by interesting, but I'll stop by there next." The interesting part of the Target Shoot was the creature running it, an obese walrus. The walrus is not known for being especially trim, but when they overeat then the situation gets very much out of hand. Buck Clayton handed Debra a rifle and said, "Three shots for a dollar. Hit the target, win the teddy bear." "Oh, I don't want to shoot," Debra said. "I just want to talk." She handed the rifle back and noticed how much effort he exerted to move around. It was like watching a mountain of jello move. "Talk?" he said. "About what?" "You're one of the bounty hunters, aren't you?" "So they say," Buck said. "I did sign up for it some time back but you know what? I never caught anybody and I doubt that I could even if they were standing right in front of me. I'm just too slow." "Well, don't worry," Debra said. "The fair is crawling with bounty hunters. If you spot a fugitive somebody will catch him." "I have been hoping to catch somebody in particular. he's a local guy. I took him to small claims court and won a judgment against him but he's never paid me a cent. I know he still lives in the area, but nobody knows exactly where." "You think he'll come to the fair?" "It could happen. Everybody who grew up around here had five giant events in their life every year: Christmas, Halloween, their birthday, the day school let out for the summer, and the week that the State Fair was in town." |
| "I've noticed some of the larger players are here," said Debra. "Such as Padre Grande and Mr. Stripes." "Those two are a given," said Buck. "They give a lot of money to charity, anonymously of course, and are well-known. That being said, they are smart enough not to break the law in Public." "Yeah, I noticed that," said Debra. "To be honest, the presence of those two tends to keep down the crimes that more opportunistic, and less-organized criminals might try at places like this," said Buck. "After all, they don't want to mess with the big fish, as it were." |
| "I never thought of that," Debra said. "Hmmm, so in away Stripes and Padre Grande are helping the criminals by keeping them from risking their necks and getting caught." "You could look at it that way, but I doubt that's what was in Stripe's mind when he came here. He just wanted to have some fun with his family." "The way Sam and Skeemo act toward him you would think they were part of his family too." Buck Clayton laughed. The mountain of Jello shook. "They practically are. But who ever said there was a clear line between law and order and crime and chaos? It's a fuzzy line with a big ambiguous area in the middle." |
| "So, anything that I should know about?" Debra asked. "Just keep your eyes and ears open," said Buck. "One's personal safety is always most important." |
| "Thanks for the advice," Debra said and wandered off in search of something to eat. Then she remembered she was at the fair and unlikely to find anything that wasn't fried or sugared. She bumped into an old lady and reached out to steady her as she said, "Excuse me!" "Get your hands off of me." said the woman in what sounded like a man's voice. As the old lady shuffled away, Debra thought how hard and muscular the woman's body had felt when she touched it. Alarm bells went off in her head. She got out her phone. "Skeemo! There's a very suspicious old lady in a gingham dress headed your way." "What's a gingham dress?" Skeemo said. "You know, blue and white checks?" "Oh. OK. And why is she suspicious?" "Because I think she might be a man." |
| "Well, as much as I hate to say it, there are a few guys in drag around here," said Skeemo. "Annoyingly, some of them are working security here." "So, this person might be working with us?" Debra asked. "Take a picture, and send it to me," said Skeemo. "I know who we have working here, and these cross-dressers tend to know each other, so they might be able to help us out here." Debra looked around, and spotted the person shuffling away, just as she heard someone scream "Someone took my purse!" She took the picture and sent it. "You might want to double check them for a purse." "I just heard that cry myself," said Skeemo. "Wait a minute - that old lady, or whatever, isn't one of ours. I'll send a Drag Queener over to her, and see what's up." "Drag Queener?" Debra asked. "A group of male bounty hunters who dress up as women; they tend to work around the prostitution areas," said Skeemo. "The dressing up was originally part of a disguise, in order to fool male FTAs, but now it's their gimmick." "Nice to know," said Debra. "Yeah, and they are real good at it," said Skeemo. "From a distance, most men would mistake them for a woman; in fact, they fooled me, and Sam once." "Really?" Debra asked. "No, they need to be careful with the perfume a bit, otherwise it's obvious to those with a good nose, if you understand my meaning, but don't tell them that," said Skeemo. "You'd end up hurting their feelings." "I see," said Debra. "So, we have cross-dressing bounty hunters, as well as clown bounty hunters." "Stop by Melvin the Magnificent's tent when you get a chance," said Skeemo. "He pulled a Disappearing and Won't Be Coming Back Trick on a bank robber with a ten thousand dollar bounty on his head - he'll be getting two thousand dollars for his part." "Good to know," said Debra. "Oh, and you're getting a hundred dollars for your tip-off on Robert Grizo," said Skeemo. "He wasn't worth much, but you are due your share." Debra sighed at this. "I'd rather not have it." "Well, you were the one who sent in the tip, so you are the one who gets part of the bounty," said Skeemo. "Of course, if you don't want it, perhaps something else could be arranged; I know that Pepe knows plenty of restaurant owners who could see about gifting you a free hundred dollar dinner or something." "Actually, I could use the money for groceries," said Debra. "That's the spirit; got to take the good with the bad, and this case, what's bad for Robert is good for you and your kids." |
| Debra called Skeemo. "I've got to leave the fair for a while and get some real food. I can't eat the crap they serve here." "Wait for me," Skeemo said, "and I will go with you. I could use a break myself. I'll call Sam." Debra waited. Meanwhile, Skeemo called Sam. "Sam! Debra and myself are stepping out for some real chow instead of corn dogs and elephant ears. Want to go with us?" |
| "I'm kind of busy," said Sam. He turned off his phone, and looked at the jackal in front of him. "So, what do you want, Anubis?" "Once you and your friends are done with this, I have something in mind for you," said Anubis. |
| "Oh, really," Sam said. "Don't keep me in suspense. Tell me what it is." "No, you would fret about it. I'll wait until the time is ripe." "I don't fret, Anubis. If you have something to say then say it." Anubis sighed. "When did everyone become so rushed? Time is like an apple. Pluck it from the tree green and it's not nearly as tasty as when you let it hang there and reach full ripeness." |
| "So, why don't you tell me the extremely bare roots of the job?" Sam asked. "Very well," said Anubis. "It's a time sensitive job; I send you there too early, and everything gets jeopardized. Also, there's two parts to this job; yours is the Public part, which everyone will find out about, and you and your team will receive high praise for." "And the Secret part?" Anubis looked at Sam. "You are aware of other worlds out there, with life on them, right?" "Had a situation a little while ago dealing with a few such things," said Sam. "What about parallel worlds where humanity didn't evolve, but the creatures that our mythologies are based off of did instead?" Anubis asked. Sam looked at him. "You're joking, right?" Anubis grinned. "I wish I was; very soon, you'll have to come to terms with a few things thought impossible." |
| Later Sam asked Skeemo, "Do you believe there are parallel worlds?" "The multiple universes theory?" Skeemo said. "Oh sure, seems reasonable to me. Every possible universe exists and we just happen to live in one of them. In another one there is a Skeemo just like me, but slightly different. And there are an infinity of these 'other' universes." "But how would they all find room to exist?" "Hey," Skeemo said. "Infinity is a big place. More than enough room in it." "What about a parallel world," Sam said, "where people don't exist but the creatures from human mythologies do exist?" "Sure," Skeemo said. "Why not? I think almost anything is possible. That doesn't mean we can go there, of course." "Apparently we can," Sam said. "Or they can come here. I'm not sure which." "Better tell me the whole story," Skeemo said. "Why are you thinking about this?" |
| "Let's just say that Anubis is involved," said Sam. "The jackal that stopped by our place the other day?" asked Skeemo. "The one that killed all of those people with a pencil?" Sam nodded. "That would be him." "Think we'll see him in action?" Skeemo asked. "I hope not," said Sam. Meanwhile, Anubis was walking down a street on the wrong side of town, when six gang-bangers stepped out of some shadows. "Nice outfit," the leader of the group said. "I think it will look good on me." Anubis grinned. "Ever hear of the trope, 'Mugging the Monster'?" The gang laughed. "Someone thinks they's a tough guy," said one of them. "Oooh, I'm so scared." Anubis chuckled. "You should be." One of the gang members pulled out a knife. "I'm going to cut your face up." "Put it away, or I'll shove it where the sun doesn't shine," said Anubis. The rest also pulled knives. "I'll tell you one last time; put those away, or I will." The gang laughed, and then they rushed him. A little while later, Sam got a call. "Yeah. Wait, What! Okay, I'll be there." He looked at Skeemo. "That was Anubis. Seems six gang-bangers tried to rob him." "What happened?" Skeemo asked. "You'll have to see it to believe it." Roughly ten minutes later, Sam and Skeemo were at the site, as were several ambulances and some police. Anubis was long gone. "What happened?" Skeemo asked, as they looked at the gang-bangers, who were being carefully loaded onto the stretchers. "See for yourself," said one of the officers. "These five - knives were shoved through their hands, and into their thighs. This one here; he got it shoved right up the anus. Witnesses said it was some sort of businessman, although who it was, they aren't saying; the fella was gone before we got here." Sam looked at Skeemo. "Anubis." "Who?" the officer asked. "A fella that makes me look like a meter maid by comparison," said Sam. "In sort; file this one under 'Case Closed: Do Not Investigate Further', and you'll save yourself a headache." The officer looked at him. "I don't think that's allowed." "You'll be chasing a Ghost; he doesn't exist anywhere," said Sam. "He can find you no matter where you are, but you'll never spot him unless he wants you to." "And this?" Skeemo asked. "The fair probably bored him," said Sam. |
| "I don't get it," Skeemo said. "Why did Anubis feel the need to come here and cause trouble?" "He didn't start the trouble," Sam said. "H had a message fo rme." "Oh? Are you going to share it?" "If I knew what it was I would, but he just said that very soon, I'll have to come to terms with a few things thought impossible." "Sounds like a warning to me," Skeemo said. "Should we take it seriously?" "It's Anubis. What else can we do? But how do you take something like that seriously? I guess allw e can do is be more alert." "Geez, Sam, I'm always alert as I can possibly be. In this business you have to stay alert." Debra came running up. "Didn't you get my phone call? I spotted someone." Skeemo pulled out his phone. "Oops. Turned it off for some reason. Who did you see?" |
| "Talk about being alert," said Sam. He looked at Debra. "What are you talking about?" the woman asked. "Nothing important," said Sam. "What's going on?" "Harriet and Ebony are following this guy," said Debra. "Joseph Hinds, wanted for possession of a controlled substance with intent to sell." Sam looked at Skeemo and grinned. "Let's see how a hippo and black widow spider figure out how to catch a fugitive." |
| Harriet and Ebony were arguing about that very point. "I'll just sting him and get it over with," Ebony said. White fangs glistened in her toothy grin. Harriet shuddered. The spider unnerved her, but she needed this job. If she had to work with a spider then she would work with a spider. "No, no, no!" she said. "You can't kill a fugitive who only committed a drug crime." "Then it looks like it's time for the web," Ebony said. "And then I will sit on him," Harriet said. Ebony laughed. "Good one, Harriet!" Harriet thought maybe working with a spider wouldn't be so bad after all. They caught up with Joseph Hinds at the men's rest room. "We can't go in there," Harriet said. "Why not?" sad Ebony, and pushed through the door. Shouts of men could be heard, more surprised that a spider was in there with them than that Ebony was a female. Harriet gritted her teeth and marched in. Ebony already had a web on Joseph Hinds and he was struggling to break out of it. Harriet sat on him. "I thought you were kidding about the sitting on him," Ebony said. She got out her phone. "Sheriff? Pick up at the men's room. Uh... the one on the south side of the fair." |
| "That's funny," the officer on the other end said. "I just got a report about a couple of women who snuck into the men's room over there; mind making sure that they are not in there by the time someone comes to pick up the fugitive." Ebony grinned nervously, as she looked over at Harriet. "We'll make sure of that." She hung up. "Told you," the hippo said, as she stood up. She picked up the spider-webbed man. "Let's get out of here before an officer shows up; I don't need to get into trouble for this - it would be a parole violation, I think." "Oh, right," said Ebony. "Sorry about that. I forgot that you just got out of prison." "Yeah, the guys were nice enough to give me a chance," said Harriet. Ebony looked at the guy that Harriet was carrying; the man weighed at least two hundred pounds, yet Harriet carried him like he was a sack of potatoes. "What did you do for a living?" "I specialized in moving large and valuable items," said Harriet. "That and hacking cameras." Ebony's eyes widened somewhat. "I see." Soon enough, the two were outside, and Harriet set Joseph against the wall of the men's room. A while later, an officer showed up, along with Sam and Skeemo, as well as Debra. Sam and Skeemo looked at each other, grinned, and looked back at the two, and their prize. "Can't a guy use the bathroom without a spider wrapping him up like a present, and without a fat hippo sitting on him?" Joseph asked. "So, you caught him outside of the restroom, right?" Sam asked. "After all, there would be trouble if a woman went into the men's room." "Oh yes," Harriet said quickly. "We caught him just before he tried to go inside." "I gotta go," Joseph groaned. Skeemo chuckled. "Well, unless you want to go in your pants, not that I recommend that, you'd best let me and Sam take you inside, along with this fine officer." "Yes," said Sam. He looked at Harriet, Ebony, and Debra. "As for the rest of you, still plenty of fair." |
| Debra looked at Harriet and Ebony. The three women hadn't had much time together. Harriet and Ebony were always out of the office and Debra was always in it. "Nice work," Debra said. "Did he put up much resistance?" Ebony laughed. "Just the usual scream of 'Oh my God, it's a spider!'" They all laughed. Debra said, "I guess there is some advantage in being big, black, and scary." "It makes the job a little easier," said Ebony. Harriet nodded agreement. "And my extra weight comes in handy. You are so trim and attractive, Debra. You make us look like carnival freaks." "Nonsense! Don't ever talk like that. It takes all kinds to make a world and I am so glad that it does. What do you say we all get a drink before going back to work? We deserve a little break." |
| "Sure thing," said Harriet. "Say, you catch anyone?" "Well, provided a tip about my ex-husband being here," said Debra. "Didn't catch him myself though." "What did he do?" Ebony asked. "Let's just say that he wasn't a good husband," said Debra. "So, ever hear of a Mr. Stripes and a Padre Grande?" "Anyone who has been on the wrong side of the law has heard of those two," said Harriet. "No one stole from anyone under their protection, and got away with it. Why do you ask?" "They helped me out with my husband," said Debra. |
| "That's because of Sam," Ebony said. "I don't know how he manages to get in so tight with these underworld types when he is sending them all to jail, but somehow they love him." "What about Skeemo?" Debra said. "Skeemo? Probably they don't remember who he is from one time they see him to the next. Ha!" "We shouldn't mock our boss like that." Harriet leaned back. "Why not, girl? Mocking the boss is what working people do in their spare time. It makes the day go quicker. What about this fair? When I was a kid I loved the fair so much. The rides, the cotton candy. Loved cotton candy!" Ebony poked at one of Harriet's gigantic hips. "Yeah, we can see you did." |
| "So, why do you think that the two biggest crime bosses in town are friendly with our boss?" Debra asked. "It's simple," said Harriet. "Sam used to be a cop, and he's done enough badass things to earn their respect." "What would be badass enough to do that?" Debra asked. "Well, I hear that there was this girl kidnapped by William Skies, a crime boss so dangerous, his own enemies would sell him out to the police if they thought that he did something to one of their own," said Harriet. "Somehow, Mr. Stripes was connected to the girl - I'm not sure how - and he arranged for Sam and them to take the ransom and swap it for the girl, only for the whole thing to be a trap, and Sam was shot over a dozen times from high powered weapons, but he carried that girl out of there, firing his guns, and killing at least a hundred of Skies' goons. And then as for Padre Grande, a ghost was robbing some of the places that he used as fronts, and he managed to catch with his bare hands, and trap it in a black hole and -." "And folks tell crazy stories about us." "That they do." "Um, is that who I think it is?" Harriet asked. Ebony looked. "I see a tiger and a shrew sitting behind us, with some rather obvious bodyguards." Debra looked. "Hi Boris." The polar bear guard chuckled. "Nice to see you again, Debra." "Sam is an honest person, which is why we like dealing with him," said Mr. Stripes. "Also, it helps to have a friend on the force, for every now and then, even the likes of us need help from the police," said Padre Grande. Harriet turned, and chuckled nervously. "Um, hello." Padre Grande chuckled. "You're a good story teller. I've also heard that you're a good thief, and a good fighter." Mr. Stripes looked at Ebony. "And as for you, I've heard quite a bit about your past deeds, like that job in Tel Aviv - three thousand yards for the killshot?" "I'm surprised you know that I was even in Tel Aviv, let alone anything else about my trip there," said Ebony. "One of the Hamas groups there lost their leader from such a shot," said Mr. Stripes. "You'd be surprised at what else I can dig up on you, if I wished to do so." |
| "So what are you trying to prove, Mr. Stripes?" Ebony said. "That nobody is an angel? Sure, I'll agree to that." Stripes made a circling gesture with his hand and his many rings glittered and sparkled. "And yet we still label others as either good guys and bad guys. All this labeling, eh?" Ebony grinned. "Why can't we all just get along?" "Exactly!" Stripes said. Debra gathered her things together. "I don't know what you two are talking about, but I think it's time for me to get back to work." When Harriet and Ebony made no move to join her, she said her good-byes and left. She had been circling clockwise around the Fair so she decided to continue on in that direction. Sooner or later she would see Skeemo again. Meanwhile, Skeemo was studying the list of fugitives apprehended so far at the Fair. He whistled. "More than I expected. This Fair is like a giant honey jar trapping the flies." |
| "Lots of targets of opportunity," said Sam. "Some thief thinks that they can pick a wallet, only to get caught with a bracelet around their wrist, and that of a bounty hunter. In fact, I just got a report illustrating that very scenario." Skeemo chuckled at that. "Good one." He looked at the wolf. "So, how much money are we going to get?" Sam grinned. "I know I've assisted in catching a few, but you might want to nab a few yourself." |
| "What happened to one for all, all for one?" Skeemo said. "Is there no sharing?" Sam grinned. "Do you know the story of the ant and the grasshopper?" "You think I'm fiddling and dancing while you do all the work? You just watch. I'll catch somebody." They parted company and Skeemo continued on his counterclockwise path around the fair. Inevitably he encountered Debra coming from the other direction. "Debra! I've got to catch a fugitive!" Debra pointed at a kiosk where cotton candy was being made and sold. The proprietor was frantically waving his hand at them. "Looks like somebody wants to talk to us." |
| "Might as well see what he wants," said Skeemo. "Hopefully he saw someone with a nice-sized bounty." "You'd only be getting twenty percent of the bounty," said Debra. "Sam told me that." Skeemo chuckled nervously. "Right, but it's still easy money." "You try turning in someone you had feelings for," said Debra. "Not so easy." |
| "Yeah. Sorry about that," Skeemo said. "But I'm pretty sure I was never married to someone who is a fugitive now." "How can you be sure?" Debra asked. "Because I was never married. Hello, cotton candy man! Were you trying to get our attention?" "Yes, I was a. You catch a the bad guys, no?" "Yes, we catch." "I see a man just a now. I know he is bad. One year ago he in court. Get 10 years for manslaughter. But he slick. Somehow he get out. Now I see him a walking around. You catch a him?" "Sure!" Skeemo said. "What's his name?" "Barney Woodwax." Skeemo looked at Debra. "Check your list for Barney Woodwax." |
| Debra took a look. "I don't see his name here. None of the other groups put up bail money for him." "Let's see." Skeemo pressed a few buttons. "Talk about smart, yet, at the same time, stupid. He's a member of the Scooter's Gang, dangerous, yet, well-connected, with most of them being very wealthy." "What does that mean?" Debra asked. "He's what you might call Fair Game - if you bag and tag him, you get the full reward for his capture," said Skeemo. "Ten grand. However, he might be with some of the other members of the group, and plenty of them have prices on their heads." "Are you going to take them on yourself?" Debra asked. "I might be greedy, and I might want my own fish to brag about to the rest of the fishermen, as it were, but it's always best to let others know, and call in the dibs first," said Skeemo. "That way the others can provide backup." |
| Skeemo shouted into his phone. "Sam! Can you hear me?" "Yes. I'm in the video arcade. I think they have the volume on every machine turned up to max." "I can barely hear you over the noise. Ever heard of Barney Woodwax?" "Sure. By now you must know I've heard of everybody at one time or another." Skeemo laughed. "You're a walking encyclopedia. I'm going after Barney Woodwax. The Cotton Candy Man says he's here." "Got it. Stay in touch. I'll see what I can find out and call you back." "Thanks, Sam." Skeemo hung up his phone. "OK, Cotton Candy Man, tell me more. Tell me everything you know. Don't leave anything out." "Wella there is notta so mucha to tell. I see him. Thatsa all." "Yeah, yeah, but where? When? I need details." |
| "He wenta toa ghosta talka guya tenta," the Cotton Candy Man said. "Pepe's tent?" Skeemo asked. "Thata guya." Skeemo groaned. "I hate dealing with that skunk." "Shouldn't we make sure that Pepe doesn't come to any harm?" Debra asked. "I pity Barney," said Skeemo. "Pepe's probably talking to him about what his dead relatives think of him." |
| Barney looked hard at Pepe de Fourrure. "Are you really a psychic?" Pepe looked surprised. "Mais bien sûr! You theenk maybe I play the scam? No, I am zee real thing, just like La Coca Cola." "Here's the deal," Barney said. "I've got this creepy feeling I am being followed and that something awful is going happen to me today. Check it out, will you? I think I'm kind of psychic myself but I need an expert on this. Is my feeling the real thing?" "But how can I know that? You are you and I am me." "I thought there was something called a psychic aura that a psychic can read?" |
| Pepe chuckled. "Maybe there is, maybe there isn't, but I don't read auras. Like my sign says, I pass on messages from the other side; perhaps you'd like your grandmother's secret recipe for making those really good pies." Barney grinned nervously. "How did you know about her pies?" Pepe chuckled once more. "That's actually a fairly common request, or some variation thereof; people try to replicate that scent, as well as that taste that comes from knowing that you're eating Grandma's Pie once more. Most are happy with the results." "So, is she here for me?" Pepe frowned. "No, but two others are; a young man and a young woman. Something about an accident." Barney's face paled. "Why are they following me?" Pepe grinned. "You do not pay, I do not say." However, despite his calm outward appearance, Pepe was actually worried about what the two were saying about his perspective customer, and pressed a button, which would trigger the App that let the bounty hunters know that there was a fugitive nearby. |
| Kirsten Kinkwad got a vibration on her mobile, looked at it and saw the bounty hunter app was activated. Oh boy, she thought. That's not far from here. Finally I get a chance to take down a fuge. She ran toward Pepe's tent. Meanwhile, Skeemo was also arriving and smacking his lips at the chance to collar Barney Waxwood. he could see Pepe's tent just ahead. Suddenly, there was the flash of a powder blue dress across his vision and a young woman with a pony tail went barging into Pepe's. "Oh no!" Skeemo said. "Don't let somebody beat me to it!" He started running. |
| Pepe saw the woman, smiled, and said, "Entrez, madame. I'll be with you in a minute; once this young man has made his choice on if he wants to receive his message." At this, Skeemo also entered. "Ah, Skeemo, mon ami," said Pepe. "Please get in line; there's a young man in front of me, who is trying to figure out what he wants, to say nothing about the young lady." Skeemo got his phone, and showed an image of Barney. Pepe nodded, and said, "Yes Skeemo, I know you're trying to get your grandma's recipe for her apple pie, but you still have to wait your turn." Skeemo looked at the lady. "How are you doing, Kristen?" Kristen glanced at Skeemo's phone, and glanced at the rat, and recognized him. "Been a while. Still trying to find the right person." "Maybe the right person is ahead of you," said Skeemo. |
| Kirsten turned up her nose at Skeemo and turned to face Barney. "Barney Woodwax, in the name of justice, I hereby apprehend you and take you into custody. Please turn around and put your hands behind your back." Skeemo rolled his eyes. Barney looked surprised, then ducked and made a break for it. Skeemo tackled him just outside of Pepe's tent. "Not so fast, Barney. You've been arrested." Kirsten came out of the tent with a pistol gripped with two hands shakily pointing it at Barney. "Don't move!" "Careful," Skeemo said. "You might shoot me instead of my capture." "He's mine, not yours," Kirsten said. "Aw, come on, if I hadn't been here he would have got away from you. Tell you what, let's split the bounty." Kirsten thought about it. "OK, I guess that's fair." "Fair at the fair!" Skeemo joked, but Kirsten didn't get it. |
| "Come on," said Skeemo. "Let's drop this guy off with an officer, and get back to work." |
| "The fair will be ending soon," Debra said. "That's fine with me," said Skeemo. "I'm exhausted." |
| "You only caught one guy, and you're tired?" Debra asked. "Sam's got at least a dozen assists to his credit." Skeemo groaned at this. "Don't remind me. He didn't feel like sharing the reward money." "Well, it's not like anyone here was on our List," said Debra. "That's because we mainly go after more dangerous criminals," said Sam, as he showed up. "Good catch Skeemo." "Had some help," Skeemo muttered, as he pointed at Kirsten. "Still, you got someone who wasn't on anyone's List," said Sam. "That's fifty percent of the bounty, instead of twenty." Skeemo grinned at this. "You're right. Did I make more money than you?" "We're tied," said Sam. "Still, we've done a good job, and Pepe knows of a nice place we can go to, providing that Debra posses as his date, while you and me take Ebony and Harriet as ours." "I don't do spiders," said Skeemo. "That's fine," said Sam. "Then you get Harriet." Skeemo's eyes bulged. "She might sit on me." Sam grinned. "You just can't win, right?" |
| That night they went to the club known as La menagerie. Skeemo pulled out a chair for Harriet and hoped it wouldn't break when she sat in it. The group had a table not far from a little stage where a Koala was telling jokes. He wasn't very good... So what's the deal with pancakes, huh? They're not pans and they're not cakes! Hahaha! "Wow!" Harriet said. "He's really bad." Skeemo nodded agreement. "Maybe the next act will be better." He hoped she wouldn't expect him to ask her to dance. There was a dance floor not far away with a little band of possum gypsies playing slow songs. |
| Sam looked over at Pepe. "The food here better be good." "Wouldn't come here if it wasn't good," the skunk said. "That being said, the entertainment always leaves something to be desired." |
| The food was not only good, it was great. Skeemo had shrimp sautéed in butter and garlic, a baked potato that was steaming hot, and a small dish of peas and carrots. Nothing fancy, but quite delicious. Harriet ordered an entire roast chicken. Skeemo secretly rolled his eyes. It wouldn't hurt her to go on a diet. |
| (Harriet's a hippo, but I know how to handwave her eating meat.) Sam looked at the chicken that Harriet had ordered. "I thought that hippos didn't eat meat." "Grandfather was a tiger," said Harriet. "I'm an omnivore." "Okay," said Sam. "I hope it tastes good." "I hope you enjoy your steak," said Ebony. |
| "Thank you," said Sam, "and I hope you enjoy your... What is that?!" Everybody looked at Ebony's plate. It contained what seemed to be a silk purse, or perhaps a neatly wrapped package. "I think I know," Skeemo said. "I think I'm going to be sick," Debra said. |
| "Oh," said Skeemo. "So it's not some little critter all paralyzed and trussed up in silk?" Ebony laughed. "Goodness no, child! And you should taste how spicy it is. I love spices!" |
| Sam chuckled. "It's always funny to see how people react when they find out that they were wrong." "What did you think it was?" Ebony asked. "I thought it might have been one of those fancy sushi rolls or something," said Sam. "Looked too big to have been some sort of bug, although it seems to be the size of a lobster or a crab." Ebony chuckled. "I do like seafood, and I love shrimp, lobsters, and crabs." |
| After they finished eating, they had coffee, and the entertainment got a little better. A ventriloquist was on the stage and he was pretty good at it. Or maybe they were so full of food that it didn't matter. Skeemo laughed hard when the ventriloquist brought out a rat puppet. Normally, Skeemo didn't like anything that made fun of rats, but this guy was good. |
| "Either this guy is good, or we're a little too drunk to care," said Sam. "He is good," said Pepe. "I would know." |
| Around about midnight Debra yawned and said, "Goodness! I haven't been up this late in a long time." To Skeemo, her remark seemed like a subtle hint to end the evening, but he was feeling too good to suggest they leave now. |
| "We'd best get going," said Sam. "Still have more work tomorrow." "So, how long does the fair run?" Skeemo asked. "Three more days," said Sam. "And we are to be there." "Should be easy, with most of the lowlifes caught now," said Skeemo. "Might even have some fun with the rides." "I know the feeling," said Pepe. "Find the right lady, or just one looking for a good time, and some of those rides make things nice." |
| Skeemo winked. "Yeah, I know the kind of 'ride' you are talking about, Pepe, the one that goes up and down." Debra blushed. "Skeemo! I think you are getting very drunk." Skeemo stared bleary-eyed at the glass he was holding. "It's this stuff I'm drinking." "Well, stop drinking it!" |
| "I hope you feel better in the morning," said Sam. "Pepe, thanks for a wonderful meal." "My pleasure," said Pepe, as he looked at Debra. "I hope you find the right person." "Thank you," said Debra. |
| "Wake up, Harriet!" Debra said. "We're going home now." Harriet had fallen asleep not long after devouring her roast chicken. Despite her Omnivorous tastes, her digestive system was still mostly that of a herbivore and had to work hard to convert the chicken into hippo fat. The next day at the office Skeemo was late arriving and looking not all that well. "Good morning, all. Next time we go out somebody please yank the bottle out of my hands. I feel like you-know-what today." |
| Sam chuckled. "Remind me to send you to my cousin one of these days." "What is he, a doctor?" Skeemo asked. "Close; a veterinarian," said Sam. "Very funny," said Skeemo. "We don't talk much," said Sam. "Haven't seen him for a while." |
| Ebony walked in and Skeemo shuddered. "I saw that!" Ebony said. Skeemo put up his hands. "I can't help it. Fear of spiders is instinctive. I'm trying to overcome it." "You're not making much progress. You been shaking and trembling since I joined this outfit." "I'm sorry! I can't help it. So what brings you into the office? Did you assassinate the wrong target?" "Ha. Ha. Funny." |
| "He had too much to drink," said Sam. "Hopefully he'll be sober by the time he gets to the fair." "Do we have to go back there?" Skeemo asked. "Of course," said Sam. "We could leave him here," Ebony suggested. "We could do that," said Sam. "But, whenever there's trouble, you can count on him." |
| "If you say so, Sam," Ebony said. "I know I can count on you. Skeemo? I'm not so sure about him." "Don't worry, Ebony," Skeemo said. "When push comes to shove I will be there for you." At the fair Skeemo headed straight for a snack wagon and bought a tall cool lemonade. Debra joined Ebony and Sam. "I wondered where everybody went. Nothing much happening here so far tonight." |
| "That's the way these things happen," said Sam. "When you apprehend over fifty fugitives in a certain location, the rest avoid it." "We got over fifty?" Debra asked. "Probably closer to seventy, but like I said, the word has gone out," said Sam. "Besides, after the first day, everyone has seen and done what they wanted to, and thus most people aren't here, unless they have a kid that needs to be entertained." "And Mr. Stripes and Padre Grande?" Debra asked. "Padre Grande might come, but I don't know about Mr. Stripes," said Sam. "After all, a convicted criminal can't just walk out of prison without a good reason every day. The fact that he returned to prison last night is why we're here, and not at his house politely escorting him back." "I see," said Debra. She then looked at the pamphlet for the fair. "Seems we'll be having some music stars preforming here." Sam took a look. "Dirt Bath, Big Daddy Wolf, Wild Katz, and Ruckus. Good singers. Preforming tomorrow." "Will that draw the crowd back?" Debra asked. "A good number of them," said Sam. "Be careful around the Beer Tent area. Some folks have such a good time, they forget themselves." "Do you think there'll be any trouble?" Ebony asked. "Probably some Moral Guardians might show up, and try to say that one, or more, of the singers are advertising Satanism, but they'd have another thing coming," said Sam. "Big Wolf Daddy is an Evangelical Priest called Thomas Reed, Leon King of the Wild Katz is a Philosophy professor, and as for Ruckus, his wife is a best-selling children's author, known for writing such things as Cat and Dog, Cat and Bird, {Cat, Dog, and Bird, not to mention Cat and Mouse." "And Dirt Bath?" Debra asked. "Joseph Simmons, the Lead Guitarist, was once called into court to testify about how his music supposedly corrupts young people, all because one of their most popular songs of the time supposedly poked fun at a well-know politician's wife," said Sam. "He showed up looking like he had a hangover, in full costume, having preformed a show the night before, and the politician, and his wife, expected him to make a fool of himself and prove their cause right. Turns out, Simmons has a Law Degree from Harvard, and is a Lawyer in his day job, and is a very good actor to boot. He convinced the Court that the politician, and his allies, were infringing upon his, and every other singers' First Amendment Rights, in order to pursue their own agendas, and counter-sued them for harassment, among other things. He won." "So, these guys have tricks up their sleeves?" Debra asked. "Yep," said Sam. "Don't underestimate them." |
| "I won't," Debra said, "but of course it's the fugitives that interest me. I was studying the list and found one guy that's wanted for murder." "Only one?" Sam said. "There's more than one but this guy interests me because he murdered his entire family. Yet, he doesn't seem to be crazy." "Maybe it was for the insurance money." "Sam! How could he possibly hope to get away with that?" "By making it look as if an intruder did it." "Oh. If he tried that it didn't work because he's wanted for murder now." "I doubt he'll show up at this fair," Sam said. "He's probably living in Mexico." |
| "Still, it is possible," said Debra. "Well, I've seen a thing or two, the least of which is Pepe's acts," said Sam. "I still don't know if he's for real, or a real good person reader." "He seems to be the real deal to me," said Debra. "He talked about my mother, and my children." "He could just be a real good investigator, who took your photo as you entered our place, and ran you through a really good search engine," said Sam. "That being said, however it is he does it, he's real good at finding things out. That being said, there's another fella I know that you might want to be careful of - a jackal named Anubis." "Is he Egyptian?" Debra asked. "No, but he scares the hell out of me," said Sam. "That's something very few people have the ability to do." "Just who is he?" Debra asked. "Let's put it this way - at first glance, he seems like an accountant, or some computer guy, but then, you soon find out how scary he is," said Sam. "During the first time I met him, we were held captive by some criminals - me because I was worth money, and him for, well, whatever reason, but I think he was doing the Play-Along Prisoner tactic, because he managed to get one of the guards in our cell, killed him, took his pencil, and killed thirty others, plus ten with the eraser. By the time the police got there, he was gone, and everyone believed that I had wiped out the whole group, which was the start of my legend. He's real good at tracking folks down as well." |
| "I never know when you are putting me on, Sam," Debra said. "No, that story is the truth. It happened. But I can understand you finding it hard to believe. I was there," Sam said, "and I almost didn't believe it." Skeemo walked up. "I'm feeling better. Three lemonades helped a lot. I must have been dehydrated." "Alcohol will do that to you," Debra said. "Do you want me to keep circulating like before? Sam says we're unlikely to see anyone on these last two days of the fair." |
| "And what are you going to do?" asked Debra. "I'll be at the lemonade stand," Skeemo said. "I think I need one more." "You're going to be peeing all evening." |
| "He was probably doing worse all night," Sam muttered. "Let's take a walk around." |
| "You mean I get to walk with the wolf?" Debra said. "I feel honored." Sam laughed. "I know I don't interact with you much, but you're doing a good job. I'm really happy you chose to work with Felcanrod." "Why, thank you, Sam. I'm having a ball. Desk jobs bore me. This is like an adventure story that I can actually live in." "Just never forget it's not a story, it's real, and you have to stay alert or things can go wrong." |
| "Just how bad could they-" Sam looked at Debra, and the woman saw his face. "Oh, right." Debra stared at them. "Um, how did that happen?" "Let's just say that I was working a case, trying to arrest a man who had a very powerful brother," said Sam. "Seems the one didn't take too kindly to me killing the other in self-defense, so he decided to torture me, and my pregnant wife and then set the house on fire. She died, but I survived. Then, he died." "Something tells me not to ask the how," said Debra. "That would be a good idea," said Sam. "The annoying thing is, they had another brother, who tried to kill me and Skeemo. He's dead too, and Skeemo would prefer if you didn't ask him for the details." "I see." |
| "But I'm not trying to scare you," Sam said and grinned. Debra shrugged. "Oh, I don't guess you are telling me anything I didn't know or suspect. Yes, it's a dangerous line of work, but I don't focus on that. And isn't that what makes it exciting? The danger?" "You've got a point there. In a way my life has become the search for danger and the thrills it brings. I've got nothing else much to live for now." "I don't believe that. I've got my kids and sometimes I feel I'm not being very responsible living the life I do, but it's not like they're toddlers. If anything happened to me they would be taken care of by relatives and they're old enough now to adjust to the loss of me somehow. Listen to me! Sam, you've got me talking about things I don't want to think about. Change the subject." |
| "Well, I wouldn't worry too much about that," said Sam. "I'm seeing someone myself - we're engaged actually." "And, what does she do for a living?" Debra asked. "Susan works upstairs at the Bread and Butter Saloon said Sam. "Isn't that the place that doubles as a brothel?" Debra asked. "Like I said; Susan works upstairs there." |
| "Oh," Debra said. "Well, I won't pry. I'm sure she has a heart of gold. Let's take bets with each other on how long it will be before we spot a fugitive. I say more than an hour." "Then I say less," Sam said. "In fact, if I'm not mistaken... See that character over there in the trench coat and the floppy hat?" |
| Debra looked. "On a day like today, that would be idiotic, even if it wasn't a disguise." "That's why I pointed it out," said Sam. "You go and see if you can talk to them, and I'll see about getting behind them, just in case." |
| "Hello," Debra said to the floppy-hatted man. He looked down and didn't reply. She couldn't see his face. Debra glanced at Sam standing behind the man and shrugged. Sam motioned her to say something else. "Uh, can you tell me what time it is?" Debra said. The man glanced at his watch. "Time for you to get the hell away from me and leave me alone. Happy?" "Thank you," she said and backed away. Later she told Sam what he said and Sam said, "Suspicious. Very suspicious." |
| "Too bad he wasn't polite enough to give you the time, or even just be polite," said Sam, as he got out his phone, and snapped the figure's picture. "Otherwise I wouldn't be sending this to the others, telling them to keep an eye on him." "So, what do we do?" Debra asked. "There's something off about him." "The others will watch him," said Sam. "Fifty pairs of eyes - they might not be like me and Skeemo where taking on the really dangerous threats are concerned, but they can see if something is up, and we can make running into him again look like a coincidence." "Meaning?" "We'll meet him in about ten minutes." |
| They spent the ten minutes walking around the immediate area of the Fair. Some of the booths had already closed down and left. Maybe they had a new Fair to go to and didn't want to wait. All of the rides were still operating. Debra challenged Sam to a penny toss. The penny toss booth had several hundred pieces of glassware set up inside the counters. The idea was to toss a coin into one and win it, but it was difficult because the momentum of the coin caused it to bounce out of the glass even if it landed in it. |
| "There's always a trick to these games," Sam said. "Annoyingly, I know it." "Why is it annoying?" Debra asked, as she threw one of her pennies. It missed. "The trick is you need to aim just right for the penny to go in," said Sam. "The annoying thing is, I only have one eye." "You might get lucky," said Debra. "Then again, maybe I'll get lucky." She threw another penny. Another miss. Sam grinned, and tossed his penny. It bounced and landed in a glass. He took his two other pennies, and tossed them as well. All landed in glasses. "I thought that you had bad aim," said Debra. She missed again. Sam chuckled. "I've learned how to compensate, so that my shots are on target." He looked at the prizes. "Nothing I'm interested in. I'll let you pick." "Um, thanks." Debra picked up one of the toys. "So, what would interest you?" Sam stopped at a place that had knives on display. He looked them over. "Um, these look nice," said Debra. "They might look nice, but these ones are useless in our line of work," said Sam. "Your basic Swiss Army knife will do you a lot better than these overly-decorated things, and a good hunting, or tactical, knife for when you can't use a gun." "So, you know about knives," the vendor said. "These things are just for tourists. I have something better under the counter." He got out a plain-looking scabbard, with a knife that had no decoration. "Take a look." Sam picked it up, and looked at it. "You could kill with this thing." "My father made this one himself, when I was but a boy," the vendor said. "By the way, do you know of a man with six fingers on his right hand?" Sam looked at him. "Are you looking for a man with six fingers to kill him or something?" The vendor laughed. "No. My father made that knife for him, but died before they could meet again. I'm trying to find him so that I can complete my father's last commission. It's been twenty years, and I'm starting to lose hope that I'll be able to find him. I'll never forget his face though - he had some scars on his face that looked like he'd been cut on his cheeks at some point before, plus the six fingers on his right hand." "Well, tell me what you know, and we'll see if we can find him." "Thank you." |
| The vendor thought for a moment. "The man was insistent that it be a plain knife with no decoration, so I'm thinking he's the kind of person that doesn't go in for frills. He probably wears simple clothes, no bright colors, and he's probably a straight talker. I think he's usually easygoing, but if you do him wrong then he's coming back at you to get his revenge. He doesn't have a lot of money, but he's no cheapskate. When it's necessary he will spend whatever it takes." Sam said, "That's a lot of info you deduced just from what kind of knife he wanted made." "I've had twenty years to think about it. I never could figure out what the six fingers might mean." Skeemo said, "I think there might be parts of the world where the six finger mutation is more common than in other parts." "That's something new to think about," said the vendor. |
| Sam looked at Skeemo. "I thought that you were at the lemonade stand?" "I came over while you were talking," said Skeemo. |
| "I overheard an interesting bit of conversation at the lemonade stand thanks to my super good hearing," Skeemo said. "This floppy-hatted character walks by and whispers to the vendor, "It's all set for midnight plus two hours." And the vendor says, "Why can't you just say 2am?" "Floppy hat," Debra said. "Sam, that sounds like the same guy we saw." "Did he say anything else?" Sam asked. "No, he just walked away. Looked suspicious to me." "To us, too," Debra said. "We saw him somewhere else." |
| "Yeah, talk about a stupid outfit though," said Skeemo. "Like anyone isn't going to notice him. I mean a one-eyed-" "Ehhem!" "Sorry Sam, but you know what I mean," said Skeemo. "I mean, it'd like either he's a fool, or making us think he's a fool." |
| "It's probably more clever than that," Debra said. "He's like the distraction while something else goes down. We're all focused on him, but that's his job, to get us focused on him. Meanwhile, something else is happening that we don't see." "Maybe," Skeemo said. "Whatever it is, it seems to be happening at 2am. I guess we better stay alert." |
| "I'll do that," Skeemo said. "He already knows I like lemonade and he is used to me hanging around." "I can't trail the floppy hat guy, Sam," said Debra. "He's already seen me and knows what I look like." "Then it's either me," Sam said, "or we can get Harriet or Ebony to do it." |
| "Or, alternatively, we use the Revolving Tail method, and have five or so of the others keep an eye on him," said Sam. "How does that work?" Debra asked. "It's simple really - you would notice if someone kept following you everywhere, so, either you'd do something like turning left instead of right like you normally would to see if they really are tailing you, or try to lose them," said Sam. "With a Revolving Tail, let's say that the target turns Left instead of their usual Right - Tail 1 keeps going straight, which makes the target think that maybe they aren't being followed, meaning they might not notice Tail 2, who is now following them. Repeat the process for Tail 3, or even have Tail 2 intentionally turn right instead of following the Target so that Tail 3 can slip in unnoticed. Eventually, after a number of Tails that don't look like tails turning another direction or passing them, the target won't be too shocked to see Tail 1, or might have forgotten what they looked like." |
| "Clever," Debra said. "I guess you old guys have developed a lot of techniques over the years." "Old guys?" Sam said. "I'm not using a walker yet." Skeemo sat down at the lemonade stand and ordered another one. "You drink a lot of that stuff," said the vendor. "Yeah, it seems safer than beer or coffee or cola." "Are you some kind of health nut?" asked the vendor. "If wanting to have good health is nutty, then yes." |
| "Okay, what's the real reason?" the vendor asked. "Well, if you must know, I embarrassed myself where some ladies were concerned," Skeemo said, with a lie that was fairly close to the truth. "Then there's my business partner - he threatened to kick my tail if I came to work drunk." "Ah, I see," the vendor said. "You have to be careful with some of those." "Tell me about it," said Skeemo. "You don't want to know what he did to the last guy that upset him. It took forever to clean up the blood." The vendor raised an eyebrow. "Blood? Is your partner some sort of enforcer for the Mob?" "The Mob wishes that he'd work for them," said Skeemo. "Would make things easier for the Mob. As it is, I'd think I'd rather work with them instead of him. Probably safer too." |
| "Sounds like a tough partner," said the Vendor. "Handy to have around when you need to defend yourself, I guess. I'm the sole owner of this stand and sometimes I wish I had a partner to share the load. Say, you like lemonade. Are you interested?" Skeemo laughed. "No, I'll just drink it. I don't want to have to sell it." Skeemo wanted to ask about the man in the floppy hat, but he couldn't think of any way to bring up the subject without making the Vendor suspicious. Finally, he said, "You must get a lot of interesting characters buying your lemonade?" |
| "Yes, and sometimes they want something other than lemonade," the vendor said. Skeemo's ears perked up. "Let me guess - something stronger than lemonade?" "Perhaps," the vendor said. "You a cop?" Skeemo scoffed at this. "Do I look like a cop?" "You never know," said the vendor. "Sometimes the best cops are those who don't look like cops." "Tell me about it," said Skeemo. "I mean, sometimes those that look like freaks are the ones carrying the badge - got a neighbor across the streets, a cross-dresser, and, he's also gay. I mean, he even wears a woman's outfit on duty! That being said, he has one hell of a left hook - some idiot tried to rob the place next to me, and Officer Cross-dresser saw him - one punch, and he was out. Busted jaw, five cracked and missing teeth, and a concussion." "Damn! Hate to be someone he disliked," the vendor said. "I know," said Skeemo. "So, got any product?" "I have some," the vendor said. "How much you want?" Skeemo thought carefully. "How much would half a kilo cost?" "Three hundred dollars," said the vendor. "Sounds reasonable," said Skeemo. "Tell me - how's security?" "Got to be careful," the vendor said. "Mr. Stripes and Padre Grande each have their goons here, and they hate anyone muscling in on their turfs, and they don't like anyone dealing without either of their say-so. And that's not counting those damn bounty hunters and their stupid outfits - those clowns are not clowns you know." "Seen them in action," said Skeemo, as he got out some cash. "At first it's funny, seeing some poor shmuck getting tied up with balloons as part of the act, then it's not, as the cowboy guys in leather show up, flash their stars, hogtie the fella, and drag him away." "Scary," the vendor said, as he accepted the money, and handed the product over. "You don't know who trust." "Got anymore coming in?" Skeemo asked, as he hid the product under his shirt. "Later tonight," the vendor said. "Well, if you need a guard, I know someone who could help you, although he doesn't come cheap," said Skeemo. "Just one thing - don't ask him what happened to his face - folks who ask, don't ask again." |
| "I might be interested," said the Vendor. "He got any references?" "References?" Skeemo said. "What is this? General Motors?" "You can't be too careful." "Sure you can," Skeemo said. "You can be so careful nothing happens. Everything involves risks." "You're right about that. Alright. Tell him to stop by and talk to me." |
| Skeemo met up with Sam. "We might have an issue." He took the packet out, and gave it to Sam. "Cocaine?" Sam asked. "That or something close to it," said Skeemo. "More's coming in tonight. I told the seller he could use a guard, and that I knew a guy." "And I'm the guy," said Sam. "Yeah," said Skeemo. Sam looked at Debra, and passed the packet to Debra. "Get that to the police officer at the BA tent, and tell him to get a hold of Narcotics, and tell him that a big drug deal will be going down at 2AM. Tell him that there will be at least one inside person, and that would be me." |
| "Got it," Debra said. "Be careful, Sam." "I wouldn't still be around if I wasn't careful," Sam said. "If the officer is Smitty ask him if he still has those green shoes." "What?" "It's an inside joke. He'll know what you mean." "Yes, but I won't," Debra said. "It's nothing dirty, is it?" "No! It's just about shoes!" After Debra left, Skeemo asked Sam, "Is it dirty?" Sam shook his head. "What is it with you people? Did I get a reputation as a pornographer that I don't know about?" Skeemo laughed. "Sorry." |
| "Listen, you've seen Smitty before, haven't you?" Sam asked. "Wait, you're not talking about Gene Smitty, are you?" Skeemo asked. "Yes, that one." Skeemo chuckled. "Yes, him I remember. Folks hear the name and think it's Jean, with a J, and not Gene with a G. Of course, those feminine features of his don't help much." "He's still a great shot with a rifle," said Sam. "Well, he did make it to the Counter-Sniper squad." |
| "Yeah," Sam said. "I once had a desire to join that group myself. The idea of snipers taking out other snipers has a certain appeal to me." "It's kind of like sending a shark to kill a shark," Skeemo said. "I don't see the connection between sharks and snipers. Sharks kill up close while snipers kill from far away." Skeemo shrugged. "So I'm not very good at making analogies. What kind of back up do you want tonight? Where should I locate myself?" "I imagine the boys from Narcotics will have their own ideas about how to handle this. Just do what they say." |
| "Well, I still need to show you to the guy," said Skeemo. "Alright," said Sam. |
| At the lemonade stand, Skeemo said, "This is the guy." The Vendor looked Sam up and down. "An old, crippled Wolf? That's your guard who doesn't come cheap?" Skeemo cringed. No telling how Sam would respond to the Vendor's comment. |
| Sam grinned, and looked at Skeemo. "I see you forgot to tell him about that job down in South America, about that guy that tried to hunt us down, and about how I took his head off, with my teeth." Skeemo felt ill at the memory, but, the rat noticed that the vendor's eyes had widened. "I keep trying to forget that." "You also forgot to mention to him what happened to the last guy that made fun of my looks, how I cut off his finger, forced him to eat it, plucked out his eye, forced him to eat that, cut open his mouth, stabbed him in the knee, and set him on fire." Skeemo noticed the vendor's face, which became really worried, when Sam looked at him. "But, given that you're a perspective customer, I'm willing to forgive that for, say, ten thousand dollars now, and a hundred thousand when the job is done, in cash," said Sam. "Otherwise, I might just take your money, your product, and horribly disfigure you, before turning you over to the police for something that would cause every criminal in prison to come after you." The vendor gulped. "I don't have that much on me, but I can give you what I have now, the remainder of the ten thousand later, when we meet again, and the hudred thousand afterwards." "Let's see what you have." Carefully, the vendor took out almost seven thousand dollars. Sam looked it over, and hid it. "This will do for now. You'd better have the rest though. Where and when?" "Meet me at Slim's Bar at 1:00 AM," the vendor said. "I want to be at the actual location before my seller is." "Good," said Sam. "Word of warning - don't mess around with me on this - I know a few guys that owe me favors, who will see to it that you'll wish you were dead." |
| The Vendor glared at Skeemo, but didn't say anything. Skeemo shrugged and made a face like, "What can I do? Sam is Sam." Then Skeemo and Sam left the Vendor to stare at their retreating backs. "That was harsh," Skeemo said. "I'm a harshmellow," Sam said. "And you make bad word jokes." They made arrangements with the Narcotics detective who was overjoyed to be able to bust the lemonade vendor. "The guy is slick, or thinks he is, but I think we've got him now. We'll be there under cover tonight." |
| "That reminds me," said Sam as he took out the money. "Skeemo, what did you spend to get that stuff?" "Three hundred dollars," said Skeemo. Sam sniffed the money, and took out the bills that had the rat's scent on them. "Should be about all there." He then handed the rest to the detective. "Lock that up for Evidence." "Will do," the detective said. "Hopefully there's some good prints on them." "Odds are good you'll find mine, and the vendor's," said Sam. "See you later." "Be careful." "Why did you give him the money?" Skeemo asked. "I mean, it's not much, but you could have gotten something nice for Susan." "That's Drug Money, and you want nothing to do with that type of money," said Sam. "Besides, we made plenty of lawful money yesterday." "Good point." |
| That night at midnight, Skeemo, Sam, and the Narcotics detective met to make final arrangements. Skeemo would be out of sight but not far away when the deal went down. As 1am approached, Sam said, "Got to meet him at Slim's Bar now. Good luck, guys." "You too, Sam," Skeemo said. After Sam left the detective said, "Brave wolf to impersonate an underworld type. They can smell a cop a mile away." Skeemo laughed. "Sam doesn't smell like a cop. He smells like an old carpet somebody left out in the rain." |
| That was when they heard, "At least he doesn't smell like garbage that hasn't been picked up for a week." Skeemo turned, and saw Susan. "Um, hi. Nice night for a stroll." "I was on my way home when I saw you," the Honey Bunny said. "What's going on?" "Some trouble involving a drug dealer," said Skeemo. "Takedown?" "Sam's pretending to be a bodyguard for a buyer, who plans to distribute the stuff at the fair," said Skeemo. Susan grinned. "He could be my bodyguard any time." "So, how's business?" Skeemo asked. "Seeing any interesting characters?" "They all have their kinks, although some are more interesting than others," said Susan. "That being said, there is one fella that Sam might want to watch out for." "Why is that?" Skeemo asked. "Mr. Smitty's money would be a good reason," said Susan. "This fella is a hacker, really good at what he does. He likes to hack bank accounts, and redistribute the victim's money. Thing is, he's not like one of those Robin Hood types, who would rob rich criminals, corrupt politicians and businessmen and put the money into a charity that helps the needy - making it look like the person made a Donation, if you get my drift. No, this fella takes the money from hard-working people, and lines the pockets of the very sort of people that Robin Hoods go after." "How do you know this?" the detective asked. "Let's just say that he's real good at multi-tasking," said Susan. "And let's just say that I'm real good at reading reflections off of peoples' glasses, and I know enough to know how to pay attention to those things while seeming to be paying attention to other things." "Got a name?" Skeemo asked. "Cash transaction, and I wouldn't be surprised if the name he gave was fake," said Susan. "Called himself Point Dexter. Also has a bit of an ego, which, like any man, can be stroked." "Don't need the details," said Skeemo. "Problem is, he found out about Sam's visits to the place, and found out about how he's connected to Mr. Smitty's fortune," said Susan. "Three hundred billion is a lot of money." "This guy's going to try to steal Mr. Smitty's money?" Skeemo asked. "Looked like he was thinking about it an hour ago," said Susan. "I was going to head over to Sam's place to let him know." |
| "Stick around," Skeemo said. "If everything goes according to plan, you should be able to talk to Sam in an hour or two." "Alright," Susan said. "How's business these days?" "Sam doesn't tell you? We're doing great. They say crime doesn't pay, but it does pay the guys who catch the crooks." "Unless they work for official law enforcement." "True," Skeemo said. "That's why we don't." Susan grinned. "You're just in it for the money?" "And we don't like having a boss or punching a time clock." |
| Meanwhile, Sam was sitting at the bar, watching the vendor, who seemed to be nervous. "Don't you drink?" the vendor asked, as he poured himself another glass. "Not when I'm working." Sam took the glass, and dumped it, along with the bottle. "Hey! That's the good stuff!" "Drink makes you foolish," said Sam. "I'm trying to work my courage up," the vendor said. "This seller is very paranoid and goes around heavily armed." Sam looked at the vendor. "You packing?" "Yeah." "When we leave this place, drop it in the trash can," said Sam. "How am I supposed to protect myself?" the vendor asked. Sam grinned. "That's my job." |
| "Ok," the Vendor said, "but I don't mind saying I'm nervous about this one. I've got one of those feelings. You know what I mean? Like you just know everything is going to go wrong? Like this is the day when you finally cash it in? Like you been taking too many risks and now it's payback time?" "Yes," Sam said. "I know those feelings, but that's not what I'm feeling. I'm feeling like this night is going to be very profitable and everything will work out fine." "God, I hope you're right." "You got a family to feed?" "No," said the Vendor, "just a girlfriend, and she could feed herself if she had to." |
| "Things always work out, even if in a way you weren't planning on," said Sam. |
| At 2am, Sam and the Vendor were in a deserted lot not far from the fair. A car pulled up and a weasel stepped out from the passenger side. The driver was a bear. He stepped out and spit on the ground. Even though he had on an expensive suit, the weasel looked cheap. The first thing he said was, "Who's the wolf?" The Vendor said, "That's my bodyguard, Sam." "So suddenly you need a bodyguard? I thought we had an arrangement of mutual trust?" "We do," said the Vendor, "but, uh, others have threatened me. It 's a lot of money in this deal. You can't be too careful." |
| "I suppose you can't be," the weasel said. He looked at Sam "You seem familiar." "It's possible," said Sam. "I do get around." "Ever work for Mr. Stripes?" "I've done the odd job for the tiger, especially when he didn't want to get his hands dirty, or have one of his own connected to the deed," said Sam. "And before you ask, I've done some work for Padre Grande as well." "Ever kill anyone?" Sam grinned. "More than a few." "I got to know who you are," the weasel said. "Greg - you got that App on your phone." That was when Sam noticed that the bear had a Smart Phone. "Yep I do," the bear said. "Say Cheese!" Sam grinned, as his picture was taken. "What App you talking about?" "The Fugitive Apprehension App," the bear said. "Pretty useful tool." The bear's eyes widened. He looked at Sam. He passed the phone to the weasel, who took a look. Their eyes widened as well. "You tore someone's head off?" Sam grinned. "A little more complicated - I killed the guy's two brothers - one over a bad deal with a gun, and the other I set on fire when he tried to avenge his brother. It took him a while, but he came after me as well, well, more like he was pretending to be a seller for another client of mine, meaning I went down to make the buy, only to find out that he wanted me dead. He found out that I was the Deadliest Game he ever hunted." The two sellers looked at each other. "Let's get this over with." "I agree." Sam leaned against the side of a building, watching. "Got a bad feeling about this." |
| When the Vendor and the Weasel were satisfied - the money was there, the drugs were there - both the Weasel and his Driver suddenly had guns in their hands, firing at the Vendor and Sam. The Vendor fell down immediately, but some 6th sense, the same 6th sense that had saved his life in so many situations, warned Sam and he was already down and rolling with the bullets nicking up pieces of pavement around him. He managed to get off a shot that caused the driver to collapse with a loud "Oof!" With the Weasel behind his car and Sam behind a steel dumpster, it seemed like a standoff, but Sam heard a loud voice say, "Drop your weapon!" and knew the narcotics guys had entered the scene. He felt a wetness on his leg, but it didn't seem serious, maybe just a piece of nicked up pavement hit him. Skeemo and Debra came running over. Debra said, "Sam! You're hurt!" "Just a scratch," Sam said, but the paramedics when they arrived insisted on taking him to the emergency room and getting it properly cleaned and bandaged. Sam refused until Debra looked at him sternly and said, "Do it!" Skeemo and Debra sat in the waiting room. Debra said, "Sam takes such risks. Does he have a death wish?" "No," Skeemo said. "He wants to live, but for him living needs some danger in it." "But so much danger? He could easily have been killed out there." "Yeah, it's more danger than I want to face, but Sam is Sam." |
| "It wouldn't be the first time he's done this sort of stunt," said Susan, who was sitting on the other side of Skeemo. "Remember how we first met?" Skeemo grinned. "I remember. It was a card game with the Stinkweed gang - the leader was sort of holding you hostage. I managed to wing one of them, and Sam slammed two against the table, tossed one out the window, shoved the leader up against the wall, stuck a knife in his mouth, and said 'Do you want me to show you how I got my good looks?' I think the guy messed his pants about then." Susan chuckled. "I remember. I also remember what happened later." |
| Debra looked puzzled, then blushed as she figured it out. Sam walked out. "OK, let's go. I'm all bandaged. If it itches it's coming off." "Oh, Sam," Susan said. "Don't be so difficult." A few days later they were all sitting around the office. The fair was over and had been very profitable for Felcanrod. "It's August," Skeemo said. "Anybody want to take a group vacation?" "What did you have in mind?" Debra asked. |
| "We could always go to Mr. Smitty's place," said Sam. "He has a guesthouse in Florida that's a thirty minute drive from the Mouse's place. Of course, he has another one in California near the other place the Mouse runs. Then there's the other places." "Seriously?" Debra asked. "The dude's rich," said Skeemo. "Oh, and that reminds me - someone might be targeting the old man." |
| "I know," Sam said. "Susan told me. But I'll be damned if I know who it is. He hides his identity well." "I'll see what I can find with my computer," Debra said. "Does Mr. Smitty have any places in the Caribbean? I've always wanted to vacation on an island." |
| "He has a couple," said Sam. "Owns a few hotels actually." "How many hotels?" Skeemo asked. "Ask me which country first, and I'll tell you," said Sam. "Does he have one in every country?" Debra asked. "Well, not North Korea, not that I blame him there," said Sam. "Went there once with Mr. Smitty over the possibility of a trade deal - that Kim fella has a lot of issues - here we can insult the president, and nothing happens, even when he threatens to sue you for slander. Over there - you can't even say that his hair is stupid without getting tossed in jail." "You didn't tell me that you'd been there before," said Skeemo. "Would have been useful to know when we went there." "Different section of the country anyways," said Sam "The 'Approved Section for Westerners'." "So, what happened?" Debra asked. "Luckily for us, my father was there, as Mr. Smitty's bodyguard, and while I won't say who it was that insulted Kim, Kim learned just how protective my father was, when he took out thirty of his Special Force Operatives that tried to abduct us," said Sam. "After all, it wasn't just me and Smitty he was protecting." "Annabelle?" Skeemo asked. Sam grinned. Skeemo chuckled. "She insulted Kim's hair? I think I would have liked her." "After that, we hauled tail to the Swedish embassy and waited until they could send us back to the United States," said Sam. "The Swedish Embassy?" Debra asked. "The U.S. doesn't have an Embassy in North Korea," said Sam. "The Swedish are the Protecting Power there for folks from Australia, Canada, and the U.S. - like the four of us then." "What happened?" Debra asked. "The Swedish representative told his North Korean counterpart that if a mere bodyguard could take out thirty Special Operatives, non-lethally mind you, while protecting his son, his employer, and his employer's daughter, to imagine what the embassy guards would do to those trying to invade sovereign soil," said Sam. "What would they have done?" Debra asked. "Invading an embassy is a declaration of war, and Sweden is part of NATO," said Sam. "If nothing else, Kim was smart enough not to invade an embassy over an insult about his hair. As for my father, he was just doing his job, both as a bodyguard and as a father. Needless to say, no hotels there." "Okay," said Skeemo. "So, how many in the Caribbean?" "Six by my last count," said Sam. "He was working on a seventh." |
| "Great!" Skeemo said. "I like St. Croix island if he has one there. It's an American island. Buy American, you know." "Just so they don't have McDonald's or KFC," Debra said. "I would be very annoyed if I saw any chains there." Later Debra handed Sam a print out. "This is all I could find. I'm not saying he's the guy, but he's the only one I could find who half way seemed to fit." "Roger deVille?" Sam said. "Never heard of him. He sounds like he's in the wealthy class of people." "Names can fool you. Maybe he invented that name for himself. He's been arrested twice for fraud and embezzlement but never convicted of anything." |
| "In that case, double-check his records, along with everything they own," said Sam. "That might take a while," said Debra. "Sam, I have a question; if this guy's as good as he claims to be, what's stopping him from hacking us?" Skeemo asked. Sam grinned. "Remember that guy that helped us out with the dragon eggs?" "The canary?" Skeemo asked. "Isn't he in Alaska?" "Jimmy Crackers, aka Unbeaten-and-Unbroken, aka Travis Smith," said Sam. "I sent him a message, telling him that Mr. Smitty would be appreciative if someone kept an eye on his monies, among other things, and I told him to watch ours as well, and to counter-hack anyone trying to mess with our stuff." "How good is he?" Skeemo asked. "I told you then; he's the best." |
| "I feel safe then," Skeemo said. "Now, I need to buy some Bermuda shorts and some scuba gear." "You can rent scuba gear on the island," Debra said. "Have you ever been diving before?" "No. Is it fun?" "I would advise taking a diving class first so you don't end up drowning down there. It would be a shame to have to bring you back home in a box." |
| "Thanks, guys, for making me feel loved and needed," Skeemo said. Sam shrugged. "We just don't want to go to the trouble of finding someone to replace you. It would probably take 2 or 3 days." |
| A few days later and they arrived at St Croix Island. Jimmy Crackers, aka Travis Smith, assured them there had been no attempts recently to hack Mr Smitty or Felcanrod so they felt it was okay to take a little vacation. Skeemo jumped into his swimsuit and headed for the beach, not a long trip since their hotel was right on the water. The sky was blue, the water was clear, and the weather was balmy. "Perfect!" Skeemo said. |
| Much to his own personal annoyance, Sam, due to his recent injury, wasn't exactly allowed to swim, to reduce the odds of reopening his wound. Of course, this didn't bother him too much - there were some people who wondered about his injury, including some who liked to give away their phone numbers. |
| Sam sat in a cabana chair, a towel around his shoulders, a Calypso hat on his head, big sunglasses, a tall drink in his hand... Everyone thought he was a celebrity. When he signed autographs the person asking for it would look at it and say, "Who? I thought you were famous." If Skeemo was nearby he would say, "He is famous... in Canada." |
| "Sorry you can't go swimming," said Debra, as she came up to Sam with a water bottle. "I've swam in the ocean before," said Sam. He then noticed Harriet and Ebony, who were also lounging further on down the beach. "Why aren't you with them?" "They're talking about boyfriends, and the like," said Debra. "I've had enough of them." Sam chuckled. "There's somebody for everybody." "Like this Annabelle I've heard about?" "A real good friend," said Sam. "Sometimes thinking of her was what stood between me and death." "Did you ever think of suicide?" "Crossed my mind a few times, but, then again, Annabelle considered me the bravest person she knew, and liked to tell me that 'Brave men like you don't quit easily.' Thoughts about her stopped me from killing myself during my worst moments after her murder," said Sam. "That being said, I worked pretty hard to make others try to do the deed themselves. Problem was, I don't quit that easily." |
| Skeemo had found a rubber swim raft and was floating on it in the ocean. He lay on his back looking at the blue sky and thinking why not retire and buy a little house in the Caribbean? Or maybe Central America? Why keep working when he didn't really have to? Felcanrod had made a lot of money and Skeemo had banked much of his. He could easily live on his savings and investments. But he wondered how long floating in the ocean would have an appeal for him? Didn't he need to be doing something meaningful with his time? Without a job he would grow soft and fat and senile. He shuddered. Better keep working a little while longer. |
| "He'd better start coming back this way," said Sam. "Why?" Debra asked. "The waves look a little off." |
| Skeemo looked around and realized he had drifted out a long way from shore. Were there sharks in these waters? He couldn't remember. He started paddling back toward shore wondering if the splashing of his hands was attracting a Jaws monster to him. |
| Luckily, for the sharks, Skeemo managed to get to the shallower waters, safely. "What's the matter?" Sam asked, as Skeemo came ashore. "Um, I thought I might have saw a shark or something," the rat said. "If a shark bit you, they'd charge you with Poaching an Endangered Animal," said Sam. "Why do you say that?" Skeemo asked. "Because if a shark tasted you, it would float belly-up withing thirty seconds." Skeemo's eyes widened. "Are you saying I taste bad or something? Some friend you are." |
| "It's just a joke!" Sam said. "Man, something must have scared you out there." "It's a big ocean and it's full of nasty things that like to eat you." Debra happened to be munching on some fried shrimp. "And we like to eat them, too!" she said, holding up a shrimp and laughing. Skeemo laughed. "Well, it's not funny when you are the shrimp." Harriet cam running up. "Guys! I can't find Ebony anywhere." "She probably just wandered off somewhere," Debra said. "No! Our room is all torn apart like there was a struggle." "Uh oh," Skeemo said. "We better check this out." |
| "What trouble could a spider like her get into?" Sam asked. "Actually, never mind - with her past, who knows." |
| "Look at this," said Skeemo, holding up a black card shaped like a bat. On the card was printed in red: Spider Killers. "Ever heard of them?" |
| "Nope, and I doubt they've heard of me," said Sam. The wolf grinned. "I hope they'll be polite enough to call us." "And what are we going to tell them if they do call?" Harriet asked. "We'll politely ask them to show her around the city, drop her off at the hotel, and they'll get a couple thousand dollars for their services," said Sam. "What if they don't plan to return her?" Debra asked. Sam grinned a grin that frightened Skeemo. "They'd be better off returning her," the rat said. Skeemo looked at Sam. "What did you bring?" "Nothing, but Harriet can help us out with that," said Sam. "Security at the police stations and military bases tends to be terrible. Of course, we could politely ask them for supplies." "By bribing them, right?" Skeemo asked. "They frown upon that," said Sam. "That being said, I do have a few contacts who might help us out. Otherwise, Harriet will come out of retirement." |
| They waited all day for a phone call from the Spider Killers, but there was nothing. However, they did not sit around doing nothing while they waited. Skeemo was on his computer, trying to research the Spider Killers on the internet. He closed his laptop. "There is no Wikipedia article about them, but I didn't expect there would be. And it's a difficult phrase to search. So many insecticide articles! And apparently the best way to kill a spider is with fire." "Wait! What did you say?" Debra said. "Fire? I remember seeing a fire truck near the hotel and wondering if there was a fire in the hotel. I wonder if there is a connection?" |
| "Well, like I said, I do have connections here," said Sam. "Let's see what the police know. Then, we'll see what the criminal underworld knows." "Do you think that the local criminals know what's going on?" Debra asked. "Funny thing is, one of the Don's from the Italian Mafia is one floor above us, and they run some rackets around here," said Sam. "Let's go have a word with them." "Why would they want to talk to us?" Harriet asked. Sam grinned. "Because they might want a friend in us, because we know of their competition in our home - Mr. Stripes and Padre Grande. Last thing they want is to have their operation wiped out by the Local Gangs." "I thought Padre Grande was Italian Mafia," said Skeemo. "Italian-styled, and Italian-allied, but not actually Italian," said Sam. "He's not full-blooded Italian, meaning he could never be a Made-Man, or Shrew in his case, but he was an Associate, and they do business with him from time to time." "That must sting," said Skeemo. "Not being that which you want to be." "Bad enough he'd probably be willing to work with Mr. Stripes to oust the Italians, and split up their former territory with his hated, yet respected, and respectful, rival," said Sam. "Let's go." A few minutes later, Alphonse Giuseppe heard a knock on his door. He looked at one of his bodyguards, who carefully walked to the door, and looked out a peephole. The bodyguard saw a good-looking woman, holding a sign saying "Hello. I'd like to talk to you, in Private." The Bodyguard looked around, and saw no one else. He looked back at his employer, and spoke in Italian. ^Some woman wishes to speak with you. I think she's American, or writes in English at any rate. Good-looking though.^ ^Must be looking for a dinner date or even a 'Sugar Daddy',^ said Alphonse. ^Let her in. I could use some entertainment.^ The bodyguard opened the door, only to be flung across the room, as Sam barreled his way in. Alphonse reached for a dresser drawer, only for Sam to slam his crutch on it, catching the man's fingers. ^Do you know who I am?^ Alphonse called out. Sam looked at him, and the man's body chilled. ^Do you know who I am?^ Sam asked, speaking in Italian. Alphonse started to breath heavily. ^No, but I know your kind. Bounty Hunter for Hire. You capture people, Dead or Alive.^ Sam grinned, and sat down. ^I'm glad you understand. I have friends who would like you dead, especially where I live. That being said, help me find a missing friend, and I'll see to it that your boys don't get roughed up so often by the local competition.^ ^What do you mean?^ Sam got out a picture of Ebony, and handed it to Alphonse. ^Some group called the Spider Killers abducted her a little while ago. Tell me what you know of them, how I can contact them, and where their territory is, and you won't have any trouble from me, and less trouble in Las Vegas." |
| Alphonse studied the picture. " A damn spider. Why not let her go meet her fate? The world would be better off with one less spider in it." Sam slapped him hard so that his head almost spun around 360 degrees. "I'm not interested in your prejudices," Sam said. "Do I need to repeat my question?" "No," said Alphonse Giuseppe. "I may be able to help you a little. I have heard of this group, the Spider Killers. They do a great service--" Sam slapped him again. "I said I don't want to hear about your prejudices. Get it?" Alphonse rubbed his jaw. "Yeah, I get it. The Spider Killers were originally a family of moles, but they have recruited different species now. They consider the Caribbean their home territory now. Probably because a number of Coconut Rats have joined the organization and took it over in my opinion although the moles would deny it." Sam nodded. "Any ideas what they did with Ebony?" "You mean if they didn't kill her by now? Maybe torturing her at one of their clubs tonight as a private show." "They own night clubs down here?" "A few," said Alphonse. "The closest is right here in town, the Coconut Grove." |
| "Good," said Sam. He looked at Debra, who was outside the door. "We can go now." "One moment," said Alphonse. "Who are you?" Sam grinned. "Do you know of a shrew in Las Vegas that calls himself Padre Grande?" "We do business from time to time." "He knows me. Feel free to ask him." "What services do you provide for him?" Sam grinned. "I provided him with a location about where he could get flowers for his daughter's wedding, and some other services that were, shall we say, on the legal side of the fence, but he didn't want to be directly involved with the police. I'm sure you understand how appearances are everything. After all, it's one thing for a landlord to hire a Private Investigator, or even a Bounty Hunter, to check on some minor problems that are bothering those who pay him rent money, and another for a crime boss to ask the police to help him find out who has been robbing those he's running protection rackets on." |
| "Perhaps one day I will be in need of your services?" said Alphonse. "Perhaps you will," said Sam. Skeemo, Sam, and Debra plotted what they would do on their way to the Coconut Grove nightclub. "You will remain in the car," said Skeemo to Debra. "What? I want in on the action." "No way," Skeemo said. "We'll need someone in the car in case there is any trouble and we need to make a quick getaway." "In case there is any trouble?" Sam said. "Oh, there will be trouble alright. I say we go in strong, show them our guns before anyone can draw on us, and demand the return of Ebony." "We don't even know if she's there," Skeemo said. "She's there," Sam said. "I have a feeling about it." |
| "And just what tells you that?" Skeemo asked. Sam pointed at a sign. "That would be the reason." Skeemo looked at the sign, and blinked. "It looks like it's half Spanish and half English, or something." "It's Spanglish, or at least a form of it," said Sam. "In short, it says 'Today's Special: Roasted Black Spider'. The cover is, probably, that the special of the day is roasted spiders, like tarantulas or some such thing. But, I'm guessing that downstairs, there is a different story." "Do you think they'd actually roast her?" Skeemo asked. "It would have to be a special oven, as the smell of charred flesh is very distinct, and live victims tend to scream out in pain," said Sam. "First-hand experience?" "Let's just say that I didn't let my wife's murderer die easily, or quickly," said Sam. "Like I've said, the only reason I'm not locked up for life was because my defense was Temporary Insanity brought on by Post-Traumatic Stress, and Bereavement, and given who I killed, and the fact that I was an officer of the law, who had just lost his wife to the person they killed, and all that, they didn't want to go too hard on me, and accepted my Early Retirement as punishment enough." "So, what's the plan?" Skeemo asked. "Find the basement doors, and break them in, or some such thing," said Sam. "Specifically, the outside ones." |
| They located the doors in the back of the club and Skeemo and Sam stood there a moment, guns drawn and ready. "This better not be a suicide mission," Skeemo said. "Relax," Sam said. "It's the afternoon. The club will be empty, getting ready for the evening crowd. Piece of cake." "Let's do it." Sam kicked open the door and they followed standard procedure for entering a room, one covering the other until they were both inside. No one was there. It looked like a storage room half-filled with extra tables and chairs. "So far, so good," Skeemo said. |
| That was when a door opened, and in came a number of people, dressed in black, and heavily armed. "Yes, good for us," said one who didn't have a weapon. "You're trespassing." "We're looking for a friend," said Sam. "We heard she came to a party being held here." "You come armed to look for a friend?" the leader asked. Sam grinned. "Some of the neighborhoods aren't so friendly for tourists." "Are you one of those Yankee cops?" the leader asked. "We get them every now and then, especially those looking for drugs." The man made a sweeping motion with his arms. "Do you see any drugs officer?" "Not here for that," said Sam. "What about weapons?" the man asked. "Do you see any weapons?" Sam chuckled. "That's a loaded question." Skeemo chuckled nervously. "You have that right Sam." Sam holstered his handgun, and limped up to the leader. Two of the others trained their weapons on him. "Listen, I'm just looking for my friend - specifically a spider." The leader smiled. "There are no spiders here." Sam grinned right back. "You lie." "Prove it." Sam swung his crutch, taking out the two pointing weapons at him, pulled out his own handgun, and pointed it at the leader. "I'll blow your brains out, along with everyone else here, unless you release her, alive and unharmed." The leader grinned. "I know how you Yankee cops work - you take people alive." "What's with the whole Yankee thing?" Skeemo asked. "You're from the Good-Old US of A," the leader said. "Makes you Yankees. Yankee cops to be exact." Sam grinned. "Once upon a time, that would have been true. That being said, it isn't true any more. I'm a Bounty Hunter." The man's eyes widened. "Our friend, if you please. I'd hate to make a mess." |
| The man said something in Spanish to one of the others. ¿La araña todavía está viva? And he replied. Sí. Ella vive. Then to Sam. "And how much is this spider worth to you? We have our expenses, you know?" "We also have our expenses," Sam said. "Do you want to know how much you owe us?" The man put up his hands, palms out, and said, "Let us call it even. We all have our expenses." "Quit stalling," Skeemo said. "We want the spider now." |
| One of the others looked at Sam. "What happened to your face?" Sam aimed and fired his gun. The man screamed in pain, clenching his hand. "Ask again and your friends will call you Little Dick, or rather, Pene Pequeño," said Sam. He aimed his gun back at the leader, and grinned. "Anymore stupid questions? Or are you going to get our friend?" |
| The leader yelled at a henchman, "Tráeme la araña!" Skeemo and Sam waited with guns drawn. After a few moments Ebony was brought in. Skeemo was glad to see she appeared unhurt. "It's about time you two bozos got here! Do you know what they were planning to do to me?" "Something horrible?" Skeemo said. "Damned right! Give me a gun. I'm going to blow these suckers away right now." "Sorry," Sam said. "We promised no violence if they brought you to us." "Awww, piss on it!" |
| Just then, sirens were heard, causing Sam to grin. "That being said, I do have contacts with the police, and they hate it when tourists go missing." |
| Skeemo and Sam and Ebony stuckaround to answer the questions of the officers. When they were finally released it was getting close to midnight. "Shucks," Skeemo said. "Another evening in Paradise wasted." "Not necessarily, boys," Ebony said. "I found a bad little club that only the locals know about. Stays open all night. It's called Lost Island." |
| The five of them ended up sitting together at a table at The Lost Island club. "I recommend the Santa Lucia Fizz," said Ebony. "Coconut juice, rum, club soda, and a secret ingredient." Skeemo said, "My Mama said for me to watch out for secret ingredients. They're usually secret for a reason." "In this case they are secret only because Tussels - he's the bartender, that octopus in the purple vest - doesn't want other bartenders to steal his drink recipe." |
| "I'll wager they're known, so that folks don't get allergic reactions," said Sam. "Only the proportions aren't known." |
| "You could be right," said Ebony. "Or he could be wrong," said Skeemo. A Coconut Rat who had been studying them from afar walked over. "I don't think I've seen you around here before. New in town?" |
| "Just here to have some fun," said Sam. "Know of a good place?" "The Coconut Grove down the street would be a good place, if not for the recent shooting," the rat said. "Shooting?" Sam asked. "What happened?" "Not sure, really," the rat said. "One of the locals touched this rich American's girl, and the guy pulled out a really big handgun, and fired at the local - blew the local's hand off - at least, that's what I've heard." Sam chuckled. "Sounds like the jealous sort. I hope we don't run into him - I like a good woman to dance with, among other things." "Yeah, and this American had a big scar on his face," the rat said. "Sort of like the one you have." Sam laughed. "Lots of folks have scars on their faces, and some are very sensitive about them. I remember one time, I was working on a movie set-" "You're an actor?" "More of a stunt-guy, although I did have a minor role as a masked henchman that got blown away by the hero of the film," said Sam. "Anyways, this guy, seems he got into a little accident during a sword-fighting scene in a previous movie - got cut, just a little, the scar isn't even noticeable especially under the makeup - but every time someone called him Nick, it just set him off - one guy got his nose busted." "What was the guy's name?" "Nickolas" |
| The Rat grabbed Sam's collar. "Don't play with me. I have no sense of humor." Sam slammed the heel of his hand into the Rat's chin causing him to almost bite off the tip of his tongue. "I don't have much of one myself. Wrinkling my clothes is not funny." The Rat growled and went for his gun. Sam was faster. The gunshots sounded very loud in the small club. Tables were overturned and screams were heard. Harry said, "What the hell? You're here less than an hour and you turn the place upside down? Get out, all of you." Out on the street Ebony sighed. "Sam, I can't take you anywhere." |
| Sam grinned. "Don't be too hard on yourself. There's a place across from the hotel we can eat at." "What if they've heard about all of this?" Debra asked. "I mean, a shooting in two clubs." "Then they'd be in serious trouble with the boss if they didn't let us in," said Sam. "Mr. Smitty owns the place. That being said, try to not make a mess. I'd hear about it from my mother within the hour." |
| Once Sam established who he was (it took a phone call by the restaurant manager) they were given the best table and treated like royalty. Ebony said, "Apparently this Mr. Smitty is a big fan of yours, Sam." |
| "Helps that I was married to his daughter, and my family works for him," said Sam. "Father is his Head of Security, and Personal Bodyguard. Mother, head of the Cleaning Staff." "I remember when we visited him," said Skeemo. "Loved that Spa he had. When can we go there again?" "Depends on the holiday." |
| "Maybe we can go on National Rat Appreciation Day," Skeemo said. Everybody looked at him. "Yeah, it's a joke." Debra patted his shoulder. "Well, I think there ought to be a holiday like that." |
| The food arrived, a huge seafood platter that they shared. Skeemo pronounced the garlic butter shrimp to be delicious. Ebony liked the crab legs and Debra went straight for the lobster. |
| That was when Harriet set her plate down, leaving Skeemo to gasp at it. Sam chuckled. "You could have left some for the other customers." "Well, there was a bunch of old people behind me who started to complain about how long it was taking for me to fill my plate," said Harriet. "They weren't very nice about it either." |
| Ebony patted Harriet's knee. "I'm with you, Honey. If the food is free and good, eat well while you can." "For tomorrow we may starve," added Skeemo. Ebony said, "From the looks of that little round belly, Mister Skeemo, it's been a long time since you had to starve." |
| "You're no Slim Jim yourself," Skeemo said. Ebony cocked her head. "There ain't an ounce of fat on him. Do you work out, Sam?" |
| "Yeah, at one of the local Gyms," said Sam. He chuckled. "I especially like to work on the Boxing and Martial Arts stuff. Every now and then, you get some young man who thinks he's tough, and just because he has a few bouts to his record, believes he's unbeatable - I enter the ring. At first they laugh - a one-eyed, one-eared, scarred-faced wolf with a missing finger and a bum knee seems like an easy fight for them - then they learn that it's the foes you underestimate who prove to be the most difficult to beat." "How often do you win?" Skeemo asked. Sam smiled. "Often enough that those I've fought before try to convince the new guy to back down, and those who do beat me only win because my knee was bothering me too much to continue. Others are smart enough to ask for a draw. After all, it's one thing to take on an able-bodied opponent and win, but against a disabled opponent, especially one who can hold their own, they soon realize that beating me isn't worth it in the end, especially since anyone could beat a one-eyed cripple with a bad leg." "That's funny, because I've never seen you lose," said Skeemo. Sam grinned, and tapped his head. "I use my brain as well as the rest of my body. I out-think while I out-fight them. I use their own weaknesses against them, and take advantage of the openings I see." |
| Ebony leaned back in her chair and looked sideways at Sam. "Sam, I think you are a lot smarter than you look." Sam's eyebrows went up. "You think I don't look so smart?" "Honey, you look as dumb as potato pie. I would bet even money you didn't know your ABC's past J and that you considered long division to be advanced mathematics." |
| Sam chuckled at this. "Good one. To be honest, I'm terrible in math, especially where money is concerned, so don't get too upset if I short you fifty or so dollars on your paycheck." Harriet laughed at this. "He has you there." |
| Ebony joined in the laughter. "I better be careful what I say to the man who pays my salary." |
| Skeemo ate some of every kind of shrimp dish they had, but announced that garlic butter shrimp was still his favorite. |
| "I am ready for my first dessert," Harriet said. "I think I will start off with something light, a slice of lemon meringue pie, please." "Same for me," Skeemo said. |
| "No dessert for me," Debra said. "Oh pshaw," said Ebony. "Give your self a treat, Debra. I'll take chocolate cake with a scoop of vanilla ice cream." |
| "Forever?" Skeemo said, "or just until you stop seeing geckos everywhere?" |
| "Could be worse," said Sam. "Could be there's some fella on another planet seeing your ugly mug every so often." |
| "Yeah, you better stop drinking," Skeemo said. "Your ideas are getting quite fantastic." |
| Sam chuckled. "Could be worse. Could be a portal to another world that decides to open up, and drop monsters here." Skeemo laughed. "Now that is crazy." |
| The next morning found them all down at the beach. It was the last day of vacation. The plane would be leaving in a few hours. "Except for the deal with Ebony, it was fun," Debra said. Ebony laughed. "Even that was fun in a way and I know Sam would have gotten itchy if he had to go seven whole days with no violence." They all laughed at that. Then later, they were on the plane back to America. Skeemo said, "Back to the grind. Let's go find those fugitives." |
| Back in Las Vegas, Ricky Rickman was in a house that belonged to a wealthy woman and her rich husband. The husband was away on a business trip, and the woman was out with some friends, leaving the raccoon free to take what he wanted. He was smart, and skillful, and dressed like he belonged in the place, and the neighborhood. He was also smart enough to have a rental car parked a few blocks down the street, just in case the woman came home early, and said car was a rental that had been paid for with cash. Also, he was taking the smalls - jewelry, cash, and things that could easily slip into a pocket, and not be noticed. If he was ever spotted, he had the perfect alibi - he was a male escort, and since no woman wanted to admit to hiring someone for sex to a security guard, all he had to say was that he had visited someone, and the security guards usually bought it. It also helped that he avoided drugs and strong drink, which would make his behavior highly suspicious meaning he'd be investigated more readily. It also helped that he didn't rob the same woman he'd recently provided services for - he'd wait at least a week or two before robbing them, after knowing they'd be out for a few hours in the evening. By that time, he had all the information he needed - security codes, spare key location, and the routine of the local security guards. He also made sure he didn't stand out. He'd just picked up a diamond necklace when he heard a sound downstairs. Someone else was there, opening the door. Voices drifted into his ears as he heard steps coming up the stairs. Moving carefully, he slipped into the closet, and closed the door, leaving just a crack open, and hid on the other side of the clothes, just as the door to the bedroom opened up. It was the woman, and some man. Ricky shook his head as he watched them undress, or at least, watched the woman undress, and was cuffed to the bed - she had her kinks. But then, things got strange, as Ricky watched the man gag the woman, and started to steal things from the dresser. That was when the woman started to make some muffled screams. However, the man pulled out a gun and, before Ricky could make a move, fired, shooting the woman in the head. Ricky covered his mouth, to stifle himself. He watched the man finish taking the goods, trying to identify him - if he could get to the police, they'd might be willing to overlook the fact that he was a thief, in order to put away a murderer. The man turned, and that was when Ricky got a good look at his face - it was one of the security guards. Ricky gulped at this. The guy was an ex-Marine. He had to wait until the man left, but by that time, the man would have come up with a good story about him chasing an intruder, discovering the body, and by then, he'd be wearing a different gun, and the other would be clean of prints, and other things. There was only one thing Ricky could do - He charged out of the closet, surprising the guard, tackling him, forcing him to drop the gun. Ricky grabbed it, and ran out the room. He now had the evidence, but now he had to get away, and get to someplace safe. |
| Ricky ran to his rental car and hopped in. He couldn't see any sign that the security guard was chasing him. He gunned the motor and merged into traffic. His main problem was that the guy now knew what he looked like and would probably soon know who he was. On the other hand, he knew what the guard looked like and what he did. Should he head to the cops right now with his story? Would they believe him? Or would they take the word of a security guard over the word of a thief? At least he had the gun. But then, if he had done the murder he would also have the gun. It would be so easy for them to set him up to take the fall for the murder. |
| Ricky knew he needed to hide, and thus stopped the car at a place where folks normally didn't leave their cars, got out, and started walking. The local chop-shop crews would make the car disappear within the hour. After a while, he found himself looking at a place called "Felcanrod and Associates". It seemed like the last place anyone would look for him at. He slipped around to the back, looking for a way in. |
| "Intruder alert," Harriet said. "Back door." Skeemo sighed. "What is it with these thieves? Do we look like a bank or something?" "I'll neutralize him," Ebony said. "No killing!" "Aw, piss on it! And here I was hoping to get in my first kill of the day. I'm not going to kill him, you dum dum." Moments later Ebony returned dragging Ricky Rickman into the office. "I don't like spiders!" Ricky said. "And we don't like thieves," said Skeemo. "I wasn't trying to steal anything. I just need a place to hide." |
| "Then why come through the back door?" Sam asked, as he came up behind Ricky. "Most people come in here through the front." "Listen, you don't understand. I'm-" Sam shoved Ricky onto the table, and pulled the gun from the raccoon's pocket, placing it on the table. "I hope you have a permit for that." "Listen, that's evidence in a murder," said Ricky. "I'm trying to keep it safe until I can find a cop who I can trust." "Murder?" Sam asked. "Let's start from the beginning. Who are you?" "Ricky Rickman, and I'm an escort, okay," said Ricky. "I was at a house, on business, with a woman, and she thought her husband came home early, and had me hide in her closet. Problem was, it wasn't her husband, and I saw her get murdered, and I saw who did it." "Interesting story," Sam said, as he pulled out the diamond necklace. "Now, let's try it again." "Okay, I'm a thief, as well as an escort," said Ricky. "Happy now?" "What's the real story?" Sam asked. "I was at the woman's house, stealing jewelry and stuff, when she came home, so I hid, and it turns out she had someone with her, only he wasn't there to have sex with her," said Ricky. "I saw him murder her, and I'm the only one who can place him, as well as identify him." Sam looked at Skeemo. "Sounds like he's telling the truth. A story that crazy has to be true." He looked at Ricky. "Of course, there is someone else we can get to confirm your story." Skeemo groaned. "Don't tell me you want me to get Pepe." "Yes, I want Pepe de Fourrure here," Sam growled. "As much as I hate dealing with that skunk, he has his uses." Debra chuckled. "I like him. I think he's very clever with his ability to talk to the dead." Ricky felt faint at this. |
| Skeemo was on the phone with Pepe. "He says do you have a relative of the dead woman here?" "A relative?" Sam said. "No, just a witness to her death." "He says he's not sure that will be enough to make contact. It would be very helpful if you had a close relative." Sam said, "Debra, find out if the murdered woman had any sisters or brothers or if her parents are alive." |
| Sam then grabbed the phone. "Pepe, get your tail over here." "Mais ami, je suis actuellement occupé pour le moment." Sam listened carefully, and growled. "Pepe, either you come over here, or I'll come over and cut off your sexual connection right in front of those ladies!" "Oh, je vous connais trop bien pour savoir que vous ne feriez pas ce genre de chose." "If you say that, you don't know me as well as you think you do." "Je ne vous connais pas bien, mais il y a quelqu'un qui le fait, et elle est assez certaine que vous êtes simplement en colère contre quelque chose, et que je bluffez de me chérir." Sam growled once more. "Just get over here." He hung up the phone. "What were you going to cut off of him?" Skeemo asked. "It doesn't matter," said Sam. "The wiseass knows me well enough. Luckily for him, he didn't mention my wife's name." "What would you have done if he had?" Debra asked. Sam glared at her. Debra grinned nervously. "I get the message." Ricky looked to Skeemo. Skeemo looked at the raccoon. "Let's just say that the mention of Sam's wife is a very touchy subject for him. Don't ask about her." A little while later, Pepe came out of his shop, crossed the street, and entered the office. He smiled cordially at Debra. "How do you do?" "Doing fine," said Debra. "You should know, there is this very lovely place that serves some of the most wonderful-" "Can we skip the pleasantries and get to business?" Sam asked. "I know you already have two women over there." "Not at the moment," said Pepe. "What do you have?" Sam asked. Pepe looked at Ricky. He then looked at the necklace. "Did this belong to the woman?" "It did," said Ricky. Pepe picked it up, and his eyes widened. "This is almost as good as a close relative, if not better." "It's a fifty thousand dollar diamond necklace," said Ricky. Pepe glanced at Ricky. "You know nothing about it. I can see her, and all of the female relations who wore it, save for her mother, who is still alive but somewhat unwell, as well as her daughter, who is away at collage." "You can tell that from a necklace?" Debra asked. "Certain objects, when passed down for generations, hold a lot of energy, some good, some bad, although it's usually good when it's passed down with love," said Pepe with a smile. "But it really gets interesting when someone just takes the object." He looked at Ricky. "I'd advise you to give this back to the family, personally." "Why?" Ricky asked. "Otherwise you'll have bigger trouble haunting you than being wanted for murder," said Pepe. He tossed the necklace back to Ricky. |
| Pepe said, "So what do you want to know, Sam?" "Anything you can find out. And make sure Ricky's story checks out." Pepe nodded. "Then I suppose I should hear his story." Ricky told him the last version of events as he had told Sam and the others. Pepe turned to Sam. "Can I use that quiet room in back? It's kind of noisy out here with all the street traffic." There was small lounge connected to the offices. The lighting was dim and there were several comfortable chairs and a sofa. Pepe settled himself into one of the chairs. "No talking, please, unless absolutely necessary." "Oh, get on with it, Pepe," Sam said. "You aren't hustling rubes at a carnival." |
| "I never hustle," said Pepe. He then took the necklace from Ricky, and held it. "The woman who owned this necklace was indeed murdered. The raccoon is a thief, but not a murderer. The woman knows her murderer. It was a security guard, who was once a Marine." He then stood up, and gave the necklace back to Ricky. He looked at Sam. "Of course, the word of a psychic medium means nothing in a court of law. That being said, the firearm stolen from the guard might do the trick, for his fingerprints will be on the rounds inside the clip, but he could claim that our thief stole the gun before shooting the woman." "So, what do you suggest?" Sam asked. Pepe grinned. "Funny thing is, I've had prior business with the murdered woman." "Don't tell me," said Sam. "You'd been sleeping with her." "When husbands are away, women get lonely," said Pepe. "That and passing on Grandma's Secret Recipe for Banana Cream Pudding Pie helps, especially when they are able to cook it just right, to really get them in the mood for some companionship." "I'm sure of it," Sam growled. "In that case, stick our friend here someplace safe, along with the things he stole, where we don't know, and we'll go check out his story." |
| Skemo said, "Maybe we can trick that security guard into confessing." "How would we do that?" Sam said. "Some version of I saw what you did and if you give me some cash I won't tell anybody. If we provide details, then he can't help but worry. He will be tempted to see his accuser and possibly eliminate him as a threat. A hidden tape reorder will take care of the confession." "It's got possibilities," Sam said. "I'd like to get a look at the guard first." |
| "Of course, the police aren't going to just let us in," said Skeemo. "They probably have the place locked down by now." Sam grinned. "I have an idea about that. I believe the Liquor Store is open right now." "You want a drink this early in the morning?" Skeemo asked. "No, but it is usual to give recent fathers a bottle to congratulate them upon the birth of a child, and it seems that one of Mr Smitty's associates has a son that lives in the area that this woman was murdered in, and it seems that they just became a father themselves," said Sam. "Of course, we'll stop and chat with the officers, and tell them we'll let them know if we find out something." Skeemo looked at Sam. "This just happened?" "More like a few months back, but I didn't have a reason to visit them," said Sam. "Still, better late than never." |
| The liquor was purchased and Sam and Skeemo headed for the murder scene. "I thought you wanted to see the security guard," Skeemo said. "Wouldn't he be in jail now?" Sam shook his head. "You're forgetting he's not the one accused of the murder. He's the one who reported the murder." "And committed the murder. It helps to wear a uniform." "The guard is probably right there with the police, seeming to help, but really making sure he didn't leave anything incriminating behind." |
| The two found the street blocked off by some cop cars, who were not letting anyone in or out. "They're being by the book today," said Sam, as a couple of officers walked towards their car. "Just stay friendly, like always." "I am friendly," said Skeemo. "I'm sure you are," Sam said, as a young officer reached the door, and recoiled in surprise at Sam's face as he rolled down the window. "Morning officer. What seems to be the problem?" The young officer looked at the older one, who just grinned. "Hello Sam and Skeemo. What are you two doing in this area?" "Got a bottle of cognac I'm going to give to Ronald Geroman to congratulate him on the birth of his boy," said Sam. "A few months late, but I have been busy, as you probably know." "How do you know Mr. Geroman?" the officer asked. "Well, his father and Mr. Smitty do business together, and you know how those company get-togethers go," said Sam. "Invite the whole family over, so that business stays friendly." "Well, sad to say, but you can't visit him," said the officer. "We're looking for a murderer." "Got a description of the guy?" Sam asked. "You know that me and the other bounty hunters will be willing to help out." "Yeah," said the officer. He passed them a picture. It was of Ricky. "Seems he's an escort, who likes to steal things. He was in the process of robbing Mrs. Winnowik's place when the victim came home. He handcuffed her, gagged her, and then shot her." Sam looked at the picture. "Looks like someone I ran into this morning." "Where?" the officer asked. "The Bread and Butter Saloon." The officer grinned. "Probably not the same person then." "So, how do you know this is the guy?" Sam asked. The officer pointed over at the house, where another cop was questioning a man in a uniform, who had a bandage on his face. "Security guard heard the shot, came in, saw the perpetrator, recognized him, tried to stop him, but got hit for his troubles. Called 911 afterwards." Sam looked at the security guard. It was an alligator. "Well, since I can't visit my friend, mind giving him his gift for me?" "Sure," the officer said. Sam handed him the bottle. "Be careful with it - that's the good stuff." "I will," the officer said. "Have a nice day." Sam turned the car around, and started driving away. "Sixty dollars for that bottle, and you're driving away?" Skeemo asked. "For now." |
| Skeemo said, "The Shadow works in mysterious ways." "I'll have to explain my method to you one day," Sam said. "I wonder if there is any security cam footage that would show who went into that room and when." "Would that really help? It would show Ricky went in first, then the guard, then the guard left, then Ricky left. That would support either version of the murder. Either Ricky did it after the guard left or the guard did it while Ricky was hiding." |
| Sam looked at Skeemo. "Ricky said he struggled with the guard and ran out, which implies he got out first." He looked forward. "Still, given that he was carrying the gun, it wouldn't look good for him anyways." "So, what's the plan?" Skeemo asked. "We wait until the police leave, and then we'll talk with the lead investigator, to see what he can tell us," said Sam. "After that, we give the police a present or three." "Like what?" Skeemo asked. Sam grinned. "Like a diamond necklace worth fifty grand, plus the gun used to kill the woman, delivered to the police themselves, by the very suspect they are looking for." "You're saying that we get Ricky to turn himself in?" Skeemo asked. "It's the safest bet," said Sam. "I saw the guard's eyes - he's the kind that seems polite and all that, but once you look past, you find yourself looking at a demon. He'll hunt Ricky down, and make it look like self-defense." |
| I've been sick. I'm not going to post in this campfire for awhile, just the other one. If I don't post anything there for over 30 days, please ask the Storymaster to check the obituaries. |
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