Detective Trigger: Books 1-6

by M. A. Owens

  He looked genuinely surprised, but remained fairly calm. “You serious?”

  I tilted my head at him. “What do I look like, the court jester?”

  “Alright, no need to be snappy. Sounds like you had a rough night, and I want you to understand that I didn’t put you in a situation like this intentionally. I’m sure you agree that your current rate is already substantial, but in fairness to you, I’m willing to increase it by another twenty percent. Call it hazard pay.”

  “Look, I’m not trying to imply you had anything to do with this, or knew anything about it. Your reaction inclines me to believe that you didn’t. Still, this is serious. I’d love to take big, bursting-at-the-seams sacks of money from you, but these cats may pose a genuine threat to the city. Don’t you think we have an obligation to go to the police at this point?”

  He looked panicked at this. “With all due respect, detective, I think I’ve made myself abundantly clear on issues regarding the police. If you can’t handle keeping this out of the press, then I’ll look elsewhere, or maybe we’ll write this off the books completely. I think it benefits us both to cut their funding off, but we need to keep this on the down low.”

  I wanted to be angry. Correction, I was angry, but he was correct that this is what I’d signed up for. He was upfront from the start that he wanted to keep this away from the police and the press, but was he comfortable endangering what could be the entire city, just for the sake of his bank? Yes. The answer, most definitely, was yes.

  I raised my paws into the air, defeated. “Fair enough. Let me get you up to speed on everything he had to say. First, he suggested that you should let the insurance take care of everything, and that you’d forget about the entire thing in no time. Someone here is definitely funneling him money, and he’s afraid that I’m close. He thinks maybe I’m an ally because I helped take down Mr. B. According to him, Mr. B was a big thorn in his side.”

  Herman laughed a little more authentically at that statement. “His and everyone else’s. It made things a lot easier around here without having to pay Mr. B his share. I wasn’t exempt from that shakedown, you know. You may think I would be, but no one in this city had the power to refuse Mr. B. Not me, not the mayor, not the chief… the old chief anyway, and apparently not this guy either.”

  “On that note, out of curiosity, how much do you pay out for Sugarplum’s insurance policy compared to Mr. B’s old protection fees?”

  He narrowed his eyes. “You don’t mean-”

  “Relax, I just mean what I said. Sugarplum is a good friend of mine. Call it a professional curiosity. May come up in my next conversation with this guy.”

  He seemed to relax a little. “Quite a bit less. There was no pressure to enroll, so the fact that it was optional was a plus. And I mean optional in the literal sense, not that I could choose to have cats come by and threaten to break my legs, or get my window smashed out, if I didn’t pay the fee. I’d be lying if I didn’t say Sugarplum reminds me a bit of her dad, but I wouldn’t say they’re alike.”

  “Noted. So this cat called himself Saint.”

  “You mean like in those mythological stories about humans?”

  “Beg your pardon.”

  “You know, those old stories about the hairless apes. Didn’t they call the most virtuous amongst them ‘saints’?”

  I shrugged my shoulders. “I’m not a big mythology guy. More into history, facts. But that could be an excellent catch, there. He definitely had that self-righteous air about him. He told me a lot about the injustices he planned to right, and how dogs would take their rightful place as second-class citizens in his Arc City. Said I would be an ally though, on account of the fact I played a role in taking out Mr. B.”

  Herman seemed puzzled. “Okay, but Mr. B was a cat. He was, bar none, the most powerful cat in the city. Not even close. Understand, even a dog like me couldn’t get a meeting with him. Isn’t this exactly the cat this Saint would idolize?”

  I raised my paws again. “You’d think so, but no. Apparently Mr. B was a big proponent of equal opportunity among dogs and cats. Saint thinks that’s all stupid. He wants cats to be an absolute power. I’m guessing he, like everyone else, was too afraid to challenge Mr. B on the matter. He probably stayed silent and waited for his chance.”

  Herman nodded, putting his elbow on the table and resting his head on his paw.

  “Sorry for the position I put you in. This definitely sounds like grim news, but I’m afraid I must hold firm on keeping the matter away from the police. You must find a way to deal with him without their help, and I’ll ensure you’re generously rewarded for it. I will increase that hazard pay to thirty percent. Don’t hesitate to let me know if you need anything. I have access to a lot of powerful folk in the city who can help you while keeping things under wraps. I’d be happy to set you up a meeting with some of them.”

  “Thanks, but I’ve got some friends of my own that I trust. I’d like to discuss the matter with them first, if you don’t mind.”

  Herman paused for an uncomfortably long time. “As long as you can give me your word that these friends of yours know how to keep their mouth shut, and as long as none of them are cops or journalists.”

  “Fine. You made your point. I understand the rules I have to play by here. I need to get going. And speaking of keeping our mouths shut, I need you to do the same. Don’t let anyone, even Sunny, know what we talked about today. The culprit is most likely in this building.”

  “That goes without saying. Best of luck to you, Trigger. It sounds like you’ll need it.”

  I would need it, and then some. Once again, it felt like my paws were tied behind my back.

  10

  I made haste over to Rick’s place. Probably for the best that I didn’t mention to Herman that Rick was one of those friends I was referring to. I still found it difficult getting used to the idea that Rick was also Rico, the legendary master thief who played an even bigger role in taking down Mr. B than I did. At least, that was my personal opinion. Rick was a lot more modest than you might think, preferring to stay in the background and give others all the credit.

  I still had a bit of the morning left when I finally made it to Rick’s office. Unlike Herman, Rick still preferred doing most of the business himself, which meant there was always a lengthy line to see him. I got a lot of dirty looks, a low-rent pooch like me getting shuttled ahead of all the others. I hated to bother him, but since he had a few run-ins with these feline liberation jokers before, he was just the dog I needed to see. At least, I hoped so. Thankfully, there weren’t any more fresh faces on his staff since the last time I dropped by. Now that I thought about it, that’s been quite a while. Not great that I only ever seem to come by when I needed something, but thankfully the few friends I had in Adria were all very busy and understood that. I made my way to the waiting area outside his office before being directed to sit down by the receptionist. The old bulldog sitting to my left huffed loudly.

  “Don’t expect to get in there soon. I’ve been waiting half an hour, and you know what he’s in there doing right now?”

  Why is it I always get seated next to the talkers? “Well, since I just came in, and haven’t been in his office yet, I think you will have to tell me.”

  The receptionist nodded at me and went inside Rick’s office. Just as she walked inside, I heard loud laughing. One voice was obviously Rick, but the other sounded familiar. No way…

  “I’ll tell you what he’s doing. He’s in there laughing and having a grand old time with that police colonel. Can you believe the nerve?”

  “No way!” I blurted out loud that time.

  The bulldog beside me threw out his arms. “I know, right? I know I didn’t have an appointment or anything, but I’m an important dog too, you know.”

  “Right…”

  When the receptionist emerged from his office, I felt like giving her a round of applause for saving me from Mr. Chatty here. “Mr. Trigger, Rick will see you now.”
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  The bulldog jumped to his feet. “You must be joking! This Chihuahua dressed like a Black District bum gets to see him before I do?”

  The ruthless receptionist narrowed her eyes at the dog. “Don’t worry, Mr. Rick had a message for you too. He said if you didn’t shut your mouth and wait patiently, he’d choose one of the other shipping services to do business with, and you won’t have to deal with all this awful waiting.”

  He pointed his paw at the receptionist, a young white cat with a slight frame, but whose callous demeanor would make you wonder why they even bother with muscle around here. It was my impression that she did all the rough talking for Rick.

  “Fine, I’ll wait, but I will have to let him know that I don’t appreciate being talked down to by a stupid cat.” I took a deep breath and winced. Involuntarily, I felt bad for this dog, especially when the look on her face made me think she would walk over here and claw his eyes out. She opened her mouth, but before she spoke there was a loud tap on the floor from inside Rick’s office. The crowded office immediately stopped paying attention to the spectacle in front of them and focused their attention toward the doorway of Rick’s office, behind her. Several lighter taps followed, as Rick hobbled on his cane and stood in the doorway beside her. He looked furious, and even more surprising than that were the patches of gray that lined his face. He had aged noticeably in a short amount of time.

  “Mr. Hemsworth, please tell me I did not just hear you call my friend a ‘stupid cat’.”

  The bulldog stood with his jaw agape for a few seconds without answering, then struggled to maintain his nerve. “I-”

  “What?”

  Hemsworth was visibly sweating now. “I… I didn’t mean–”

  “You didn’t mean… what? What didn’t you mean?” Rick tilted his head, and although baring his teeth, spoke in what was more or less his usual level and calm voice.

  It bothered me seeing Rick still using that cane, and even though it was a big improvement from the wheelchair, I couldn’t help but remember so vividly him speeding across the rooftops at impossible speeds. I remembered when he stole the Grand Gobbler from Lady, holding his own against the assassin in a duel with his sword, only to get pounded within an inch of his life after saving my hide.

  “I didn’t mean… That is… That is to say…”

  Rick slammed his cane onto the floor again, making Hemsworth jump like a scared pup, to the collective amusement of everyone in the room.

  “I’ve heard enough of your babbling. Your services are no longer needed here. Don’t worry about me, though. You will be easily replaced.” He waved his paw toward the door exiting the lobby.

  Rick stumbled a little, trying to steady himself again on his cane, which suddenly gave Hemsworth his courage back. Perhaps he didn’t realize that Rick still wasn’t in the best of shape before.

  He laughed. “What are you going to do, hobble over here on that cane and throw me out yourself?”

  I suspected Rick’s hard dog act was just that, an act. He wasn’t one to lose his temper. Unfortunately, I was. I spun and threw a right hook into his throat, causing him to clutch it with both paws, gasping for air. I took the time to draw back for another, this time connecting directly with his snout. Blood gushed, and he stumbled backwards, almost falling back into his chair, but caught himself with one paw on the armrest. Before he processed what happened I reached and grabbed him by the ear, twisting it sharply in my paw, causing him to stumble forward again in the direction I was pulling him.

  “Sorry pal, but I’m in a hurry, and I’m real tired of hearing your mouth,” I said, dragging him so quickly toward the door that he almost fell with every step. I opened the door and gave him one last pull in that direction, and as he stumbled through the doorway I added my foot to his rear end for some extra encouragement. He fell flat onto the floor, causing the security dog just a few feet away to jump.

  “Make sure Mr. Hemsworth here finds his way out and send somebody in here to clean up all this blood on the floor. He left a mess.” The security dog, an older terrier, looked way more pleased than he probably should’ve, even given the circumstances. Guess he welcomed the excitement and probably heard everything through the door. He nodded and put his paw around Hemsworth's arm. I turned to walk away, but something told me not to take my eye off of Mr. Hemsworth here, so I turned my head enough to see him in my periphery. Sure enough, that turned out to be a good move.

  He jerked his arm free of the old terrier, and I turned to face him fully. He growled.

  “Why, you little pipsqueak, I’m gonna–” I’d like to think I could put that much fear into a dog suddenly, but I knew that wasn’t the case as he stumbled backwards, falling onto his rear again. I looked down and observed the enormous shadow that enveloped mine, turned, and looked up to see a familiar face.

  Buddy, police colonel for Adria, and second most powerful officer in the city next to the chief, had a very… physical presence. Maybe it was the fact that he was covered head to toe in a ridiculous amount of muscle, or maybe it was the fact that it was accompanied by one of the few fuses that was probably shorter than mine. Would probably be an unfortunate combination for any profession, but Buddy was a high-ranking police officer, which made it more of an asset.

  He was still looking down at Hemsworth, looking past me. “What, did you forget that I was here? Should’ve just let the gumshoe here throw you out. Now, I have no choice but to arrest you for causing a disturbance. You can try to get rough with me too if you want. I’m heading to the gym after this, so I could use the warm up.”

  “What about him?” He asked, pointing to me. “I want to press charges. He assaulted me.”

  Buddy reached down and gave his belt a pat. “Wouldn’t you know it… just got the one set of cuffs on me today. Guess it’s your lucky day, Trigger.”

  I didn’t bother hiding my grin. “Yeah, too bad.”

  But he stepped forward and gave me a painfully rough pat on the shoulder before picking Hemsworth up off the ground like a bag of feathers. Ouch. Buddy was likely irritated with my vigilante activities here in the district, as usual. To be fair, he’d warned me about it more than once. Despite that, he was an excellent friend and he tolerated my presence here in the district most of the time… to a point.

  With the clicking sound of handcuffs tightening around Hemsworth’s paws, an eruption of applause came out of the waiting room. I stepped back in. Everyone was pretty pleased, with Rick being no exception. He shouted after Buddy, before the door closed. “Apologies, Mr. Buddy. Thank you for taking care of it!”

  He motioned me inside his office, and I followed, his receptionist closing the door behind me as I walked in.

  He sat down in his chair with an audible sigh. “I have to say, you have an almost supernatural ability to be in the right place at the wrong time. Tell me, what brings you here today?”

  I let out a sigh of my own. “Let’s see if I can make a long story short...”

  11

  “I hope you realize how big of a favor Buddy just did for you,” Rick said.

  “Yeah, I realize. Done him a few favors too, you know. Oh, and speaking of Buddy… I didn’t expect to see him here. He’s not investigating you, is he?”

  Rick grinned. “No, nothing like that. Not that I know of, at least. I made a sizeable donation to the department not very long ago, after everything that happened with the Grand Gobbler. As you might guess, donations go a long way toward removing yourself from suspicion. I noticed they were snooping around a bit, but the donation seemed to have taken care of it. Buddy came by himself to pick it up, and we ended up chatting for a while. Next thing you know, he’s coming by Friday nights with some other dogs to play cards. You should join us, by the way. If you can spare the time between punching random dogs in the throat and taking on suicidal cases.”

  That one made me laugh. Wouldn’t be the first time he read my mind. “Speaking of which…”

  He shook his head. “Why am I not s
urprised? Tell me, are you here to see Rick or are you more in need of the services of Rico, because I’m not sure if you’ve noticed but things aren’t looking too good for Rico these days.” He reached down to his side and held up the cane he was walking on earlier. “Looks like I’m about as healed as I’ll ever be. I think the cane’s here to stay.”

  “I’m real sorry about that, Rick. Sorry I dragged you into–”

  He raised his paw and stopped me in the middle of my sentence. “Don’t misunderstand. We’ve been over this. It could easily be you in this condition right now. We both put each other in a lot of danger since the moment we met, and you and I are stubborn old dogs who do whatever we please. Can’t blame anyone else but ourselves for the predicaments we find ourselves in. Speaking of which, what kind of predicament have you found yourself in now?”

  “Right. Well, I was kind of hoping you could tell me. I wonder if you can help me figure out just how deep into trouble I found myself this time.”

  He tilted his head, peering at me incredulously. “Go on.”

  “So, I took this easy-money case from Herman. You know, the pooch who runs the bank.”

  He nodded. “Yeah, I know him.”

  “Apparently he’s missing a couple of coins here and there.”

  Rick raised his eyebrows, impressed. Or was it surprise? “You sure you should tell me this? I mean, they like to talk about how reclusive I am, but Herman’s very closed-lipped on the inner workings of his bank. Most people just assumed it was because he had no noteworthy problems, myself included.”

  “Don’t worry, we’ll skip past that to the fun part. First day on the case I found myself getting whacked on the head and dragged off, then tied up in some abandoned warehouse for half the night, fielding questions from a cat named Saint.”

  “I’ve never heard of this Saint fellow.”

  “No, but you have heard of the group he’s the leader of. The Feline Liberation Party.”