Detective Trigger: Books 1-6

by M. A. Owens

“One of my cats knew about him being transferred in, and he bragged openly about what he was going to do to you since the moment he arrived. It’s not wise for me to directly intervene, but, with a well-placed utensil…”

  To my disappointment, I caught myself smiling.

  “Out of place but well-placed is something I don’t miss. You knew the other dogs and cats here would swarm him the moment he picked up that fork. You didn’t have to lift a paw, and neither did anyone working with you. Gotta say, I’m impressed.”

  “Glad to have impressed you, at the very least. Perhaps saving you this time makes up for the time I almost killed you?”

  I tilted my head.

  “Okay, so… maybe not. At any rate, let’s get down to business. You spoke to Bik earlier today. He’s been investigating potential escape routes for a long time and wanted to discuss the plan he’d come up with. What are your thoughts?” he asked.

  “I’ll tell you the same thing I told him. Won’t work. If we block the ventilation, they probably won’t find an alternative. They’ll probably just escape up a level and leave us down here to suffocate,” I said. “Even if there was a way through it, it would take a lot of patience and craftiness to make rope in here. Maybe if we could send information and have someone on the surface waiting to throw down a rope, but getting information out of here is basically impossible.”

  “Not just basically,” the gray cat said. “It’s totally impossible. We’ve tried bribing everyone on this floor, and they’re too scared. A couple of guards got caught trying to pass information, and now none of them will even consider it. You can bribe them for just about anything, as we’ve learned, but passing on messages? They won’t bite.”

  I tapped on the table, considering the idea.

  “Could be something we can build on, like Bik said, but there’s only one slight problem.”

  “Trust, I assume?” Mr. B asked.

  “Yeah, trust, among other things. I’ve heard the entire story about how you were planning to go legit, but I also heard the same story from Sugarplum once, except opposite. One of you lied, and my guess is that you’re both liars. What exactly are you going to do once you get out? Look, we don’t even have to consider every single possibility. Let’s just say that the best-case scenario everyone is hoping for happens. You get out, you crush Saint, and… then what?”

  He smiled. “Go on, detective. I enjoy hearing your theories.”

  “Alright, how about this one? Let’s make it a ‘once upon a time’. Once upon a time there was this lying con artist who tried to kill a private detective, then had the nerve to expect him to help. This con artist uses the detective, gullible and stupid because he’s convinced he has no other choice, to escape from Arc City Prison. He gets out, he crushes the head cat in charge, and he’s left staring at the power vacuum. What do you think the cat chooses?”

  “Trigger, is that a real question you want me to answer, because—”

  “It’s rhetorical. He drops into that power vacuum all nice and neat, takes advantage of the fact he has his old rival and the detective on a leash. Maybe he takes on Saint’s plan with some modifications, becomes Adria’s representative. Mayor later. Maybe he goes back to how things were before and just rules from the shadows, keeping a heavy paw on the struggling cats and dogs of the city. Struggling cats and dogs that you, of all cats, should understand!”

  “Woah now, easy, Trigger. I thought this was a ‘once upon a time’,” he said, still smiling. “Look, I messed up, alright? I shouldn’t have let it go that far. Once I got the power, I should’ve used it to lift up the Black District. I get it. Do I really not deserve a second chance? Would it really not be enough if I put a lid on Saint and saved the city from another single species totalitarian control scenario? Are you telling me that wouldn’t go at least a little way toward making up for the things I did? What exactly are you expecting from me? Unless there’s some way to tell the future or read my mind, I can’t prove to you I’m telling the truth, but here, I’ll say it again just like I did when you first arrived. Here are my intentions.”

  “You’re wasting your breath, but let’s hear it. I’m getting used to listening to you lie with a straight face. Smooth like claws across a chalkboard.”

  His eye twitched, but he continued.

  “I’m going to get out of here, become Black District representative. All Petey has to do is appoint me. I’ll run for mayor against Saint. If I win, I’ll do it the right way. I know a thing or two about running things. You may not want to admit it, but I could run this city ten times better than the current mayor, blindfolded.”

  That, I didn’t doubt. At all.

  “And if you lose? This is my favorite part. I’ll try to keep a straight face too. Promise.”

  “If I lose, I’ll declare Black District’s independence, and we’ll run separately from the other districts. We can trade with the cats outside the city directly.”

  I burst out laughing. “Sorry. I said I’d try to keep a straight face. You’re insane. They’d march the ACPD in military gear straight through those gates and take the district back by force.”

  “What if the cats from the outside helped us?”

  I shook my head. “Strict code not to interfere. If they didn’t step in when the cats were being trampled on by the dogs, their own children, I highly doubt you’d convince them to step in to save the Black District and the dogs. Arc City could survive without the Black District. Saint would just cut it off like an ugly wart.”

  He sighed. “What if we defended it ourselves? You understand, we have little choice. This is all happening a little late in the game. I’m not some kind of magical creature, Trigger. I can do a lot, but I can’t perform miracles. Saint’s got a bit of a head start if you haven’t noticed. Look, I’ll be counting on you and Rick. Rick and I have put our hatred for one another aside, and, trust me, we have a much longer history than you and I do. If we can do it to save our city, won’t you at least give me a chance?”

  I leaned back in my chair, bouncing my leg up and down. This was a mistake. A mistake, mistake, mistake. I was going to regret this so much, but… I finally had to accept what Rick had been trying to get through my head the entire time I’ve been here: This was the last viable choice left to us. We had to try it. The fact I came here knowing this is what it had come down to, proved I’d already accepted it.

  I reached out my paw, and he was quick to grasp it, smiling even bigger than usual.

  “So then, ready to hear my plan?”

  4

  Never thought my next client would be the cat I helped take down on my first big case, now working with that same dog, together to help that same cat essentially reverse everything we did. This is the part where I’d normally think about how crazier things have happened. Except no, they haven’t. Nothing this crazy has happened so far. And, so help me, if I have my way, nothing this crazy will ever happen to me again. This was going to be my last case.

  “Sure, I’d love to hear the plan, but since you’re essentially a client here, hiring me, we’re going to talk dough first. Big dough.”

  He tilted his head. “Really?”

  “What do you mean, ‘really’?” I grunted. “What is it with everyone thinking I’m the one-eyed charity detective giving out my services for free to all the good cats and dogs of Arc City. It ain’t like that now, it wasn’t like that before, and it’s never going to be like that. Dog’s gotta eat, and I’m going to be straight with you. You’ll be glad to hear this in case you were worried about me being a threat later. I’m done. Sick, tired, and tagging out. Some younger, more energetic pup or kitten can become Arc City’s next one-eyed charity detective.”

  “I thought you said you weren’t—”

  “Shut up,” I said. “So, I’m looking for big money to retire with. I think I might try to get in on the next opening in Rose Garden Estates. You know the place. Start an actual rose garden. Read your stupid, lying paper every day and shake my head, then smile
a big fat smile knowing it’s someone else’s problem. I’ll prop my feet up on my coffee table and listen to the radio. Maybe I’ll write a memoir. I’m kidding, of course. You’re more the memoir type, aren’t you? Anyway, if I get you out of here, I want to be set up for life five times over. I normally wouldn’t make a price like that for a client, but I know the cash you can get your paws on once you’re out of here, and you’re also not exactly my typical client. Not the typical case.”

  Mr. B’s expression shifted to one I wasn’t at all expecting to see. Disappointment? Sadness?

  “Do you really want to retire? A talent like yours shouldn’t be wasted. You know, another dog once said those same words to me, and I thought he was kidding. I laughed it off and let him go. My best friend. He wasn’t kidding. He retired, to who knows where, and I haven’t heard from him again since.”

  “You and I, we’re not friends. Let’s make that clear right off. Not now, not ever. This is all business.”

  He nodded. “Right. I accept your conditions. I’m going to wish you a happy retirement in advance. If you change your mind—”

  “What’s gotten into you?” I asked. “Don’t worry about what I’ll do with the money, or if I’ll change my mind. That’s not your concern. All you need to do is make sure I get it, and it’s my job to make sure you have it to give.”

  “Fair enough. You’re hired. Interesting, isn’t it?”

  “‘Interesting’ isn’t the word I’d use. The words I’d use aren’t polite.”

  He grinned. “That doesn’t surprise me. Now that your conditions our out of the way, are you ready for the plan?”

  “Now that we’ve agreed on the terms? I’m all ears,” I lied, opening my arms, smiling. Well, I was half-lying, I guess. I really was sick and tired of everything. The whole rotten city. The lie came in where I was happy to hear. I wasn’t. We were both probably forcing ourselves to be civil because we didn’t have a choice. If we didn’t rely on one another, we weren’t going anywhere.

  “Soon, they’re going to have the three of us separated. I’m surprised they let it go on this long. Rick, they’ll allow to stay, because we’ve both done well to butt heads with one another in front of the guards. They’ll keep the two of us together for that reason. You, on the other paw… your transgressions are fresh in Saint’s mind. They won’t want to risk you working with either of us. While it’s rare for anyone to get moved up a level for good behavior, wait and see, they’ll be willing to move you up soon. You’ve been here a week already, so don’t expect it to be long. You get the chance, you take it. I’ll look out for Rick down here. Don’t worry.”

  “Oh, I bet you will,” I said.

  He shook his head. “Come on, detective. It’s not impossible for information to go up one level. Suppose I do something to Rick, and you hear about it. Maybe you’ll get yourself out somehow and leave me hanging. I’m not stupid, you know. Even if I still had it out for him, when I’ve said repeatedly I do not, I wouldn’t be that foolish. Even if you won’t take my word for it, at least respect my intelligence a bit more than that.”

  I nodded. “Guess you’re right.”

  “So, once you’re transferred up, I need you to… hold on, Briggs is coming this way with another officer. How much you want to bet they’re going to transfer you up now?”

  “Not going to bet anything. You told me to respect your intelligence, remember?” I said.

  I felt a paw touch my shoulder. “Tried to get them to let you finish dinner first, Trigger, but they insisted on bringing you to talk to the boss now,” Briggs said.

  “The floor supervisor?” I asked, turning my head to look at Briggs, getting a look at the cat with him too. Who was this joker? I hadn’t seen him before.

  “Warden Beans,” the black cat said, staring me down with his orange eyes. “You should feel honored. It’s rare for someone down here to get an audience with the boss.”

  “I thought ‘dangerous’ would be a better way to put it,” Mr. B said.

  “For you, maybe,” the black cat retorted. “Not much point in seeing a lifetime resident.”

  “Don’t suppose this meeting is optional, so lead the way,” I said.

  “Good luck,” Briggs said, putting a paw on my shoulder.

  “This way,” the black cat said, walking ahead of me. I quickly got up and followed.

  “Not going to put my irons back on before we go?” I asked.

  “Why should I? Are you planning on making a run for it? Even if you made it to the elevator, it can only go up or down one floor based on the floor supervisor’s unique key. Only the Warden’s key can move through every floor, and good luck getting that.” He stopped in his tracks, turning to face me after we walked out of the kitchen. “And please don’t take that as a challenge. I’ve heard about you. When I say ‘good luck’ getting the Warden’s key, what I mean to say is ‘that’s a really quick way to die and therefore I don’t recommend it’.”

  I held up my paws. “Easy there. Whatever you’ve heard about me must be greatly exaggerated. I’m a very well-behaved dog.”

  He smiled a little.

  “Right, of course you are. I’ve heard all the best-behaved dogs end up in Arc City Prison.”

  “You know, I’ve heard the same thing. I used to think it was a crazy rumor but look at me, here in Arc City Prison,” I said, my words dripping with sarcasm.

  “Have you ever met Warden Beans before?” he asked as he resumed walking.

  “Can’t say I’ve had the privelege.”

  “Yeah, well, don’t get too excited. I’ve never seen anyone meet with the warden and walk out happy, and you’re not likely to be the exception.”

  “Why tell me that?” I asked, tilting my head.

  “Let’s just say that the warden is about as popular with the staff as he is with the prisoners. We like to say that when he was born, he slapped the doctor. Don’t think he’s ever been nice a day in his life, but he spends every day pretending to be. He’ll reach you a juicy steak in one paw and have a knife in the other.”

  “Maybe he wants to make sure you have something to cut your steak with, and he’s just misunderstood.”

  “Alright, Trigger, keep telling yourself that. Just remember that I tried to warn you.”

  “Thanks,” I said, as we went through the last section of the prison floor before what I assumed must be the administration section.

  We continued walking for a couple of more minutes until we reached an office.

  “No guards?” I asked.

  “Not inside, not outside. Make you nervous? It should. Looks like our warden is looking to have a private conversation with you.”

  He knocked on the door, then opened it wide. A big black and white cat with a gentle face sat in the leather chair, swiveling side-to-side, nibbling on a piece of jerky.

  “Hey, hey, hey! If it isn’t our latest celebrity occupant. Big fan, by the way. Name’s Beans.”

  He hopped up from his chair, held the jerky in his teeth, and wiped his paw on his pants before offering it to me to shake. I didn’t hesitate.

  “Pleasure to meet you, warden.”

  “Truly? Glad we’re off to such a brilliant start. It worried me you might cause me trouble, but here you are, already putting me at ease. You’ll have to overlook me. I tend to worry about little things. You know, mountains and molehills. That’s me. Go ahead, have a seat.” He paused, looking at my escort. “Thanks, you can go. I’ll show Trigger out when we’re done.”

  He nodded and stepped out, closing the door behind him. I took a seat across from the warden. Here it comes.

  “Jerky? My cousin makes it himself. Did you know you can make this stuff in a regular old oven? I didn’t, but he swore to me it was every bit as good as the stuff you get bagged at the grocer. I don’t know if I’d say it’s ‘just as good’, but it’s good. Here, try a piece.” He reached down into the jar in front of him, reaching across a stick of jerky to me. I took it, biting down, trying to k
eep myself from drooling. I’d never say it to Briggs, but this is the first thing I’d eaten that I think would technically be considered food all week.

  Funny, some weapons, even when they’re being pointed right at you, even when you know what they are and what they do, still work. This kind of charm had a way of doing that to a dog. You can pull out all the torture devices ever invented, and some dogs are just too stubborn to cooperate. Give a dog a stick of jerky, on the other paw…

  “This is good. I think your cousin’s onto something,” I said.

  He scooted the jar to my end of the table. “There. I’ve been chewing on these things one right after another all morning. You know, that’s my second jar this week. Help yourself. You’ll just be doing me a favor. I get carried away with these things. You know, my wife scolds me about things like this all the time. I was a chubby cat not long ago. Still got the loose skin to prove it. She’ll nag me about watching my weight if she sees me eating them at home.”

  Now I understood what that cat was trying to warn me about. I could already see where this was heading, and I had no leverage to play the tough guy. Couldn’t even pretend.

  “Don’t mind if I do. Thank you,” I said, grabbing another.

  “Do you know why I’ve called you in here today?”

  I smiled, biting off a large piece of the jerky. “You’re going to move me up a floor, and you have a problem there that you want me to take care of, so you don’t get your paws dirty handling it yourself. Undercover stuff.”

  “Wrong!” he shouted, pointing his paw at me. He stayed frozen in that same position for a few moments, before sighing and slouching into his chair. “I’m just kidding. That’s actually exactly what I’ve called you here for.”

  I smirked, waggling my eyebrows. “Impressed? Good. I want in.”

  5

  “Just like that? You don’t even want to hear the details?” he asked.

  “Well, yeah, of course I want to hear the details,” I said, grabbing my third jerky stick. “I just don’t want to waste our time negotiating back and forth over something I clearly have no leverage to negotiate with. Look, here, let’s try something. Let’s just continuing doing everything in reverse. What’s your offer?”