Resetti's Last Score, Part 1
It was a dark and stormy night.
Well, not really-Motley's thunderstorms were far too mild to convey an atmosphere of proper dark
spookiness. But it was dark, and rainy, and that counted for a lot. Few animals were willing to brave the
rain during the day, and now that night had fallen, the town was even more deserted. Lights glowed softly
in windows, over the bluffs, across the river, looking out over the sea. Rain fell on a silent town.
The Motley police station hugged the base of the hills that encircled the town. Of course, it wasn't a
"station" as humans might think of it; it was a cylinder no bigger than most of the houses in town, just
enough to fit a desk, a few shelves, and two animals. Usually, there was only ever one officer on duty
inside. That was the way with most animal communities, which never quite approached the size of human
cities. Still, animal officers could be relied upon to keep a township safe, orderly, and...
"AH-CHOO!"
...quiet.
The red-eyed bulldog sniffed miserably as he looked back inside the police box. "I don't see why I
couldn't have a poncho," he called. "Or an umbrella," he muttered, looking over his drenched police
uniform. "Or a bigger hat...?" His voice trailed off, uncertainly. He sneezed again.
Another police dog, a bull terrier, poked his snout out of the tiny window. He glared disapprovingly at
his partner. "For the last time, it's departmental regulations! Section 20, paragraph 4: 'Officers on
duty are not to wear articles of clothing that may impede vision or hamper pursuit of unlawful
individuals, nor wear frivolous..."
"My vision's already impeded. By the rain. I guess." The bulldog snuffled again, looking at his partner-or
his partner's snout, more precisely-with a pleading expression. "Copper, look, I don't mind covering
patrol duty when it's raining, but, um, how much longer...?"
Copper gave the bulldog a stern look, which was difficult to see and probably went unnoticed. "I'm
conducting an important interview, Officer Booker, and I can't give you an est..." He trailed off,
lowering his voice to a murmur. "Look, I think he's about to agree. Then *I* can take him out with me, and
you can come back inside. I promise!" Before Booker could say anything else, Copper had left.
"Oh. Well, I guess that'll be fine. Um..." Booker sneezed again, very loudly and wetly. "...but Copper'll
never let me live it down if I have to take a sick day."
***
"I'm terribly sorry about that." Copper hurried back to his desk, noting his guest with a worried eye. How
awful it would be for the station's reputation if this went awry! Honestly, Booker didn't seem to care
sometimes.
Fortunately, the other animal didn't seem to be offended by the interruption. He seemed lost in thought,
actually, mulling over what Copper had already told him. The police dog put on his most brilliant smile,
or what he thought would suffice. "So, you've heard the situation. I'm afraid that the department has been
perplexed thus far in our investigation, and we would dearly appreciate..." He trailed off; his visitor
wasn't even looking at him. "Ah. Yes. More coffee? The station just got a new machine..." Copper gestured
to the black vending machine by the desk and began fiddling in his pockets for change.
"Lemme just see if I got this right." The gruff voice startled Copper, who dropped a few Bells on the
floor. The speaker seemed not to notice. "After all this time...after I've been off the the force for ten
years...after this town dumped me like an old shoe..."
Copper held his breath.
"...you got an actual case? How'd THAT happen?"
Copper smiled, in genuine relief this time. "Well...that's what we were hoping you could help us with,
really."
"All right, question two. Why me?"
"Well..." The officer's King's English faltered for a moment. "You see...er, in your...previous service,
you received several commendations..."
"'Previous service.' Now that sounds real nice. Like I retired or somethin', right?"
Oh, this didn't sound promising. "Er. Your record *does* indicate..." Copper hurriedly gestured towards
the bulging folder on the desk. "...that you served the department with distinction and a high degree of
service, which..."
"Naw, that ain't what you were thinkin' about." Copper's throat felt uncomfortably dry as the other animal
leaned forward, beady eyes glittering dangerously. "Ol' Resetti, he went nuts, right? Had to bust 'im down
to muckin' out the dump and slouchin' around the Reset Center, innat what they told ya?"
Copper's jaw went slack. "I assure you, I had no part in those rumors! Your service is still regarded as
admirable, even today!"
Inwardly, Copper rebuked himself for lying. When he'd first joined the force, his departing predecessor
*had* told him some scandalous things about the mole that sat across from him now. Even as a rookie, he
had refused to entirely believe the town gossip. Still, that dangerous look in the mole's eyes could
almost make him believe the hearsay was true.
Resetti snorted and leaned back in his chair. "You're a rotten liar. Now quit tryin' to play kissy-kissy
and answer my question, will ya? Why me?"
Copper took a deep breath. "We...we've started to suspect...foul play." The mole looked up sharply.
Encouraged by his sudden interest, Copper moved on. "The missing party didn't contact anyone before she
left town, and there were signs of a struggle at her place of residence. We fear it might be..." He
trailed off, suddenly uncomfortable.
Resetti bent forward again, propping one elbow casually on the desk. "Finish your sentences, Melvin.
You're startin' to sound like your buddy outside." Before Copper could respond, he hopped down from his
chair. "Nah, don't bother. The problem is this: there's been a crime, and you bozos have no idea what to
do. Kinda different from passin' out parking tickets, huh?"
Copper cleared his throat. "We know that you have experience in dealing with other elements of society, in
which kidnapping is more common, you see."
"Save it," Resetti snapped. "What are ya, tryin' to get my life story?" He shuffled over to the door.
"Well...you check the crime scene yet, or what?"
"Of course, but we were hoping that with your greater experience, you might..."
Resetti waved a paw impatiently. "Yeah, yeah, yeah. Quit tryin' to suck up. Alright, Benji, since you seem
to need me to spell it out for ya, I'm helpin' out." He held up a claw just as Copper was about to start
talking again. "BUT. I'm not back on the force. I do things my own way. Get me?"
Copper had been steeling himself for this; he knew that Resetti wouldn't readily agree to follow
department regulations, but for the sake of the missing, he had to swallow his pride. "Understood," he
said, forcing himself to smile.
"Good. Now, we goin' or what? I, uh..." The mole suddenly seemed embarrassed. "I kinda tend to lose my way
when I'm goin' above ground."
"Of course! Right away!" Copper's smile became more genuine. "Good to have you back with us."
Resetti rolled his eyes. "Wish I could say the same. Let's get this over with, huh?"
It was a dark and stormy night.
Well, not really-Motley's thunderstorms were far too mild to convey an atmosphere of proper dark
spookiness. But it was dark, and rainy, and that counted for a lot. Few animals were willing to brave the
rain during the day, and now that night had fallen, the town was even more deserted. Lights glowed softly
in windows, over the bluffs, across the river, looking out over the sea. Rain fell on a silent town.
The Motley police station hugged the base of the hills that encircled the town. Of course, it wasn't a
"station" as humans might think of it; it was a cylinder no bigger than most of the houses in town, just
enough to fit a desk, a few shelves, and two animals. Usually, there was only ever one officer on duty
inside. That was the way with most animal communities, which never quite approached the size of human
cities. Still, animal officers could be relied upon to keep a township safe, orderly, and...
"AH-CHOO!"
...quiet.
The red-eyed bulldog sniffed miserably as he looked back inside the police box. "I don't see why I
couldn't have a poncho," he called. "Or an umbrella," he muttered, looking over his drenched police
uniform. "Or a bigger hat...?" His voice trailed off, uncertainly. He sneezed again.
Another police dog, a bull terrier, poked his snout out of the tiny window. He glared disapprovingly at
his partner. "For the last time, it's departmental regulations! Section 20, paragraph 4: 'Officers on
duty are not to wear articles of clothing that may impede vision or hamper pursuit of unlawful
individuals, nor wear frivolous..."
"My vision's already impeded. By the rain. I guess." The bulldog snuffled again, looking at his partner-or
his partner's snout, more precisely-with a pleading expression. "Copper, look, I don't mind covering
patrol duty when it's raining, but, um, how much longer...?"
Copper gave the bulldog a stern look, which was difficult to see and probably went unnoticed. "I'm
conducting an important interview, Officer Booker, and I can't give you an est..." He trailed off,
lowering his voice to a murmur. "Look, I think he's about to agree. Then *I* can take him out with me, and
you can come back inside. I promise!" Before Booker could say anything else, Copper had left.
"Oh. Well, I guess that'll be fine. Um..." Booker sneezed again, very loudly and wetly. "...but Copper'll
never let me live it down if I have to take a sick day."
***
"I'm terribly sorry about that." Copper hurried back to his desk, noting his guest with a worried eye. How
awful it would be for the station's reputation if this went awry! Honestly, Booker didn't seem to care
sometimes.
Fortunately, the other animal didn't seem to be offended by the interruption. He seemed lost in thought,
actually, mulling over what Copper had already told him. The police dog put on his most brilliant smile,
or what he thought would suffice. "So, you've heard the situation. I'm afraid that the department has been
perplexed thus far in our investigation, and we would dearly appreciate..." He trailed off; his visitor
wasn't even looking at him. "Ah. Yes. More coffee? The station just got a new machine..." Copper gestured
to the black vending machine by the desk and began fiddling in his pockets for change.
"Lemme just see if I got this right." The gruff voice startled Copper, who dropped a few Bells on the
floor. The speaker seemed not to notice. "After all this time...after I've been off the the force for ten
years...after this town dumped me like an old shoe..."
Copper held his breath.
"...you got an actual case? How'd THAT happen?"
Copper smiled, in genuine relief this time. "Well...that's what we were hoping you could help us with,
really."
"All right, question two. Why me?"
"Well..." The officer's King's English faltered for a moment. "You see...er, in your...previous service,
you received several commendations..."
"'Previous service.' Now that sounds real nice. Like I retired or somethin', right?"
Oh, this didn't sound promising. "Er. Your record *does* indicate..." Copper hurriedly gestured towards
the bulging folder on the desk. "...that you served the department with distinction and a high degree of
service, which..."
"Naw, that ain't what you were thinkin' about." Copper's throat felt uncomfortably dry as the other animal
leaned forward, beady eyes glittering dangerously. "Ol' Resetti, he went nuts, right? Had to bust 'im down
to muckin' out the dump and slouchin' around the Reset Center, innat what they told ya?"
Copper's jaw went slack. "I assure you, I had no part in those rumors! Your service is still regarded as
admirable, even today!"
Inwardly, Copper rebuked himself for lying. When he'd first joined the force, his departing predecessor
*had* told him some scandalous things about the mole that sat across from him now. Even as a rookie, he
had refused to entirely believe the town gossip. Still, that dangerous look in the mole's eyes could
almost make him believe the hearsay was true.
Resetti snorted and leaned back in his chair. "You're a rotten liar. Now quit tryin' to play kissy-kissy
and answer my question, will ya? Why me?"
Copper took a deep breath. "We...we've started to suspect...foul play." The mole looked up sharply.
Encouraged by his sudden interest, Copper moved on. "The missing party didn't contact anyone before she
left town, and there were signs of a struggle at her place of residence. We fear it might be..." He
trailed off, suddenly uncomfortable.
Resetti bent forward again, propping one elbow casually on the desk. "Finish your sentences, Melvin.
You're startin' to sound like your buddy outside." Before Copper could respond, he hopped down from his
chair. "Nah, don't bother. The problem is this: there's been a crime, and you bozos have no idea what to
do. Kinda different from passin' out parking tickets, huh?"
Copper cleared his throat. "We know that you have experience in dealing with other elements of society, in
which kidnapping is more common, you see."
"Save it," Resetti snapped. "What are ya, tryin' to get my life story?" He shuffled over to the door.
"Well...you check the crime scene yet, or what?"
"Of course, but we were hoping that with your greater experience, you might..."
Resetti waved a paw impatiently. "Yeah, yeah, yeah. Quit tryin' to suck up. Alright, Benji, since you seem
to need me to spell it out for ya, I'm helpin' out." He held up a claw just as Copper was about to start
talking again. "BUT. I'm not back on the force. I do things my own way. Get me?"
Copper had been steeling himself for this; he knew that Resetti wouldn't readily agree to follow
department regulations, but for the sake of the missing, he had to swallow his pride. "Understood," he
said, forcing himself to smile.
"Good. Now, we goin' or what? I, uh..." The mole suddenly seemed embarrassed. "I kinda tend to lose my way
when I'm goin' above ground."
"Of course! Right away!" Copper's smile became more genuine. "Good to have you back with us."
Resetti rolled his eyes. "Wish I could say the same. Let's get this over with, huh?"