Raised by Wolves

by Geonn Cannon

  “You’d think the guy would know to be in his office when he has an appointment.”

  “Yes, well, you know how it goes,” Ari said.

  “Maybe you could call him, see where he is.”

  Ari shook her head. “Me? No, I never call Ari.”

  Hubbard sighed and went back to poking at his phone. “What does a guy need with two secretaries if he’s never even in the office?”

  “That’s an excellent question,” Ari admitted.

  Dale came back after twenty minutes with two sandwiches. “Are you messing up my computer?”

  “I’m playing a game,” Ari said.

  “Just don’t download anything.”

  Ari abandoned the keyboard to take and unwrap her sandwich. She had been smelling it since Dale came into the building, and she was starting to salivate. She gave up the seat so Dale could retake her throne, moving to sit on the windowsill. She thought for a moment it might be a little rude to eat in front of their client, but he hadn’t given her any reason to care about that. She took a bite and watched him as she chewed.

  Finally, he stood and approached the desk again. “Excuse me.”

  Dale looked up and wiped a bit of aioli from her bottom lip. “Yes?” she said, once she’d swallowed.

  “Where is Mr. Willow?”

  “There is no Mr. Willow,” Ari said.

  Hubbard stared at her. Finally, squinting, he said, “I beg your pardon?”

  “There is no Mr. Willow,” she repeated. “You have an appointment with Ariadne Willow. That’s me. This is my agency.”

  He blinked at her. “What... Why the hell didn’t you just say that in the first place?”

  Ari shrugged. “You never asked. You came in here and asked about someone named Mr. Willow. I don’t know who that is, but I guess there was a chance he would come in at some point.”

  Hubbard looked between Ari and Dale, his face growing red from anger and embarrassment. “You’re the private investigator?”

  “Yes, sir. If you’d like to step into my office, I’m almost finished with my meal...”

  “Unbelievable,” he said again. He spun and stormed out of the office. He slammed the door behind him when he left.

  Dale laughed and leaned back in her chair. “I think you just lost a client.”

  “Something tells me I wouldn’t want to take whatever case that guy was bringing.” She bent down and kissed Dale’s lips, bowing for a second longer kiss when she tasted the onions and peppers on Dale’s breath. “Mmm, love that. Spicy.”

  “I’ll get it for you next time.”

  “Please do.” Ari took the rest of her sandwich into her office. “It’s just Monday,” she said over her shoulder. “The week is bound to start looking up after this.”

  Dale said, “Famous last words.”

  ###

  The first time Ari sat across the visitation table from Shae Segura, the inmate squinted at her and said, “You’re doing this all wrong. Once they let you go, you never ever come back.”

  Ari said, “The way I see it, I owe you a debt. You helped me out when I was inside. Now that I’m out, it’s my turn to help you.”

  Shae had been Ari’s cellmate during her incarceration, and one of the people who helped her survive the ordeal. She was a con artist, a grifter, a thief who made a living by cheating other thieves at their own games. She came to Seattle to find out what happened to make her sister jump off a bridge, but the law caught up to her before she found any answers. When she discovered Ari was a private investigator, she assigned herself as Ari’s right-hand woman in the hopes she would pick up the case when she was released. Ari knew she likely would have died without Shae’s help, and she legitimately liked the other woman. She would have tried to find answers for her no matter what.

  Unfortunately this visit required her to deliver bad news disguised as good news. Segura sensed Ari’s mood as she crossed the room, and she braced herself as she settled into the other seat.

  “How sad am I about to be?”

  Ari pressed her lips together. “Last time I told you I was trying to track down some of the people Maria went to school with, to see if any of them knew something about why she did what she did. I finally found someone. Jessica Curry. She said Maria had a secret boyfriend for about six months before she died. She never said a name, but she saw a note signed with a W. Maria had a professor named Daniel Wines. He’s married and, three years ago, he had a newborn daughter.”

  Segura said, “It couldn’t have been Maria’s.”

  “No, I’m pretty sure the baby came before the affair started. Knowing how men like that think, the baby may have been why the affair started. I went to talk to him and threatened to tell his wife everything. He said Maria wanted him to leave his wife. She was talking about marriage. He was more concerned with his career, so he ended things with her. That’s when she stopped going to classes. She tried to get back together with him, but it didn’t work. I could look into the possibility that he pushed her off the bridge, either physically or psychologically--”

  “No,” Shae said. She’d brought her hands up in front of her mouth. Her eyes were filled with tears. “No, Maria... Her heart was so big and so fragile. If she asked him to end his marriage, then she loved him enough to be completely broken when he rejected her. God, I hate that she ended this way. She was so smart, you know? She couldn’t been anything. And she just ends like this.”

  Ari sat silently and let Segura cry. When the guard gave them a five-minute warning on visitation time, Segura held out her hand. Ari squeezed it.

  “Debt paid, Ariadne.”

  “I wish it had a happier ending.”

  Segura shrugged. “No matter what story you found, it still ended with my sister dead. At least now I know why. It sucks that there’s not really a bad guy to punish... although the professor...”

  “Oh, yeah, someone might have sent his wife an email suggesting he was taking advantage of his students. As of last Thursday, the university put him on a leave of absence.”

  “That’s something at least.” She sniffled and wiped her cheeks again. “I have two years left in here. When I get out, I’m buying dinner for you and your lady.”

  Ari said, “It’s a deal. And we can discuss bringing you on at Bitches until you find something more permanent.”

  Segura said, “I appreciate it. I appreciate everything.” She looked at the guard and sighed. “Okay. Back inside.”

  “How’s your new cellmate?” She lowered her voice. “Does she look the other way when CO Vogel comes by for a pillow fight?”

  “No. Mel and I have had to get creative. It’s fun, but it’s a hassle. And on top of that, the new chick is grumpy and vaguely racist and always talks when I’m trying to read.”

  Ari said, “That was the first rule!”

  “I know!” She shrugged and stood up. “But at least she doesn’t try to change into a wolf in the middle of the night. That’s a bonus.”

  Ari laughed and held up her fist. Segura bumped her own against it. “I’ll still see you in a couple of weeks even though the case is closed, right?”

  “Count on it.”

  The guard escorted Segura to the door, and Ari stood to leave through another exit. Segura was almost through the door when she turned back. “Yo! Hey, Willow!”

  Ari stopped and looked back.

  “Thank you,” Segura said, her voice heavy with sincerity and emotion.

  “You’re welcome, Shae.”

  Segura nodded, and allowed the guard to lead her into the hallway.

  ###

  Ari didn’t have a high opinion of Anne Foster, a gut feeling that only cemented itself the longer the woman talked. The fact she was on time for her appointment was the only mark in her favor. She wanted to hire them for a surveillance job in the hopes of finding evidence that her husband was having an affair. It was Ari’s least favorite kind of case, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. She’d spent the week up to that point tracking
down a deadbeat dad for late child support and acting as a mystery shopper for a local boutique.

  Mrs. Foster had provided her husband’s schedule, and Ari was skimming it as the woman finished explaining what she wanted. Ari was about to explain their rates when Foster said something that stopped her short.

  “And I’d really like to have something by Monday if that’s at all possible.”

  Ari said, “I plan to start work on the case as quickly as I can, but I can’t promise results by any specific date. It depends on if your husband arranges a meeting with his mistress over the weekend or--”

  Foster rolled her eyes. “I don’t care what you have to do. And of course, if you actually have to do anything with him, you would be compensated for that.”

  Ari bristled. “Whoa, whoa. We don’t do that sort of thing.”

  “What sort of thing? I want you to prove my husband is having an affair.”

  “By entrapping him?”

  Foster shrugged. “If you have to.”

  Ari stood up and rounded the desk, ushering Mrs. Foster to the door. “I think there’s been a misunderstanding. You called a private investigator. Prostitute is a little lower in the phone book.” She opened the door and held her arm out. “I would wish you luck with another agency, but I really don’t care if you succeed or not.”

  Foster left in a huff, shaking her head as she stormed through the waiting room and out through the main door. Ari sighed and leaned against the door frame, while Dale looked at her expectantly.

  “Are prostitutes listed in the phone book?” Ari asked.

  Dale’s eyes widened. “Uh... I would be very surprised if they were.”

  “Oh well. I think it was a good line, anyway. She wanted to hire me to sleep with her husband and use the evidence to prove infidelity.”

  “Pre-nup?” Dale asked.

  “Most likely. I didn’t ask for the details.”

  Dale sighed and folded her hands in front of her on the desk. “I have to say, there’s some appeal to the situation. Not, you know, adultery. But in an established relationship. One person is at the bar, their significant other comes up and pretends to be a stranger, they flirt, they make up outrageous lies about who they really are, and it ends in wild sex in a hotel room.” She shrugged. “It’s a fantasy. But for a healthy relationship.”

  Ari said, “Is it your fantasy...?”

  Dale pursed her lips and turned back to the computer without answering.

  Ari grinned and pushed off the wall, sliding back into her office. “Okay... something to remember on your birthday.”

  “Our anniversary is closer,” Dale called after her.

  Ari laughed.

  ###

  “Bitches Investigations, this is Dale. How can we help you?”

  The woman on the other end of the line gave a breathy, closed-mouth laugh. “I was curious if you actually answered the phone with that name.”

  Dale decided she sounded more amused than offended or haughty. “It helps to keep away the wrong kind of clients.”

  “And what would constitute a ‘wrong’ client?”

  “Men who don’t believe a woman can be a private investigator.”

  “Ah, I believe we are in agreement on the definition, then. Are you the woman in question?”

  Dale said, “No, I’m her assistant. Would you like to make an appointment to speak with the detective?”

  Ari chose that moment to come into the office. Her clothes were wet, and her eyes were dark with violence she was restraining herself from dispensing on whoever had pissed her off.

  “I would like to arrange a meeting, yes, but there are extenuating circumstances. Would she be willing to make a house call? I would, of course, pay her for the time.”

  Dale mouthed ‘house call.’ Ari shrugged and nodded distractedly as she went into her office to change clothes.

  “That would be fine. What time would be good?”

  When Ari returned a few minutes later in clean clothes, Dale had finished the call. She held up the notepad on which she’d written out the information.

  “Vivian Burroughs. She wants to meet this afternoon at three.”

  “Where is this address, Capitol Hill...? Off Aloha?” Realization dawned. “Millionaire’s Row? No. No more rich clients. We have a bad track record with them.”

  Dale said, “I know, puppy, I know. But this is just a client meeting. And she’s paying you the usual hourly rate just to listen. You can turn down the case if you smell something rotten, but... look, I know we haven’t had the best track record when it comes to rich clients, but we haven’t had a good track record with any clients this week. At least the rich ones can pay their bill.”

  Ari sighed.

  “You look sexy with your hair all wet and slicked back like that.”

  Ari narrowed her eyes at her. “Don’t try to get all cute and flirty with me.”

  Dale folded her hands and rested her chin on them. She gazed adoringly at Ari.

  “Fine,” Ari sighed. “I’ll go talk to her. But no promises.”

  “Thank you, puppy. Hey! How’d you get all wet?”

  Ari grunted. “The things some people will do to avoid being served with a summons.”

  Dale laughed and turned to add the Burroughs meeting to the calendar.

  Chapter Two

  Millionaire’s Row was an unofficial neighborhood south of Volunteer Park, with some of the oldest houses in Seattle, and it certainly lived up to its name. Ari had grown up with money, but she felt uneasy even parking her car there. She was suddenly aware of every ding on the bumper and feared it might drip oil on the street and some Homeowners Association militia would swoop down and charge her for the cleanup.

  The address Dale gave her was on an elevated plot of land with a stone retaining wall between it and the driveway. A handful of trees along the edge of the property provided a barrier to casual trespassing but didn’t block the homeowner’s view of the street. The house was an A-frame made of wood and stone, so dark and seemingly carved from stone that it blended in perfectly. She appreciated that it was a nice, simple home rather than an eyesore of metal and glass.

  Ari went up the front walk to the covered porch, pausing on the steps to look at the windows to either side for signs she was being watched from within. None of the curtains twitched, so she continued to the door and rang the bell.

  “I assume you’re the private investigator.”

  Ari looked for the origin of the voice and saw a small camera mounted above the door. A speaker was built into the wall, so discreet it could barely be seen by anyone who wasn’t looking for it. So she had been observed on her approach. She smiled into the lens and lifted her hand in a wave.

  “Yes, ma’am. Ariadne Willow from Bitches Investigations.”

  “The door is unlocked, Miss Willow.”

  Ari went into the house. The front hall was comfortably warm and reminded her of a cozy mountain lodge. There was a bench next to the door under a canopy of coats and rainslickers hanging from hooks. She saw rooms to either side and another straight ahead, beyond the stairs, but only one of the rooms was open. Ari was already walking toward it when she heard the voice again.

  “To your left, Miss Willow.”

  The living room was lovely but surprisingly spartan. A couch and a few armchairs huddled around the fireplace. Her hostess was seated at a desk with her back to the door, so she didn’t see the brief look of surprise on Ari’s face when she realized the woman was in a wheelchair. Ari glanced at the stairs and only now saw the lift mechanism. When she faced forward again, the woman had turned her chair around.

  “Thank you for coming. As you can see, it’s a bit difficult for me to get downtown.”

  “Of course. We’re actually less than a mile from my office, so it wasn’t an inconvenience. No traffic. I assume you’re Vivian Burroughs.”

  “I am. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance. Please...” She gestured at the foyer and Ari stepped aside so
she could get by. “The reason I called you involves going to the second floor, and it takes me a bit longer than most people. So I thought we could begin the process while we’re talking.”

  Ari said, “Makes sense. Do you need my help with anything?”

  “No, dear, thank you. I’ve gotten quite good at it.”

  Ari waited while Vivian positioned her chair on the platform and pressed a button to begin her ascent. She was an older woman, older than Ari’s mother but not elderly, with dark red hair which seemed natural instead of dyed. She wore a button-down white blouse and black slacks, and sat with her back straight and her hands resting lightly on the arms of the chair like a queen on a litter. Ari began to climb, measuring her steps to stay behind the chair.

  “I admit, I’m worried that the job I hope to hire you for may not be in the purview of a private investigator. All I know about your job is what I gleaned from books.”

  “We have a pretty wide variety of jobs,” Ari said. “It keeps things from getting dull.”

  Vivian smiled. “I’m sure it does. What do you know about the houses in this neighborhood?”

  “They’re as old as they are expensive. Not much beyond that.”

  “Simplistic, but accurate. This house was built in 1904. It’s been modernized quite a bit over the years, as you can tell by the contraption I’m riding, but the bones of the house are the same. I’ve lived here forty years. I raised my children here. I have four, all grown. Preston, Evelyn, Eleanor, and Elizabeth. Taking the case will unfortunately mean you have to deal with them, however briefly.”

  “So noted,” Ari said.

  They arrived at the top of the stairs and Vivian gestured down the hall. “The first door on the left.” Ari led the way with Vivian behind her. When they arrived, Vivian took a key from the pocket of her slacks. It looked like a cartoon key, long and thin, silver, with an ornate design at the top where Vivian pinched it. “This door is always left locked.”