Chapter 3 – An Invisible Threat
Ahh…the Waffle Hut. A quaint little restaurant on 76th Street that's been around for nearly thirty years, and for good reason. It was a staple in the Chaotix breakfast routine. We eat here twice a week, Mondays and Wednesdays. As the title implies, this restaurant creates the best waffles in the city. As you wait for your food to be prepared, your sense of smell is constantly teased by a pleasingly sweet aroma. It's almost irresistible. I like the traditional atmosphere here along with the ever-present jazz music. It's quite relaxing. Nothing pre-made here. It's all from scratch. Their thick, world-famous batter is poured into the grill, baked to a golden brown, topped with your choice of your favorite fruit, butter, syrup, or all three if you prefer, and then it's ready to serve. Hot and crispy on the outside, and then when you take that first sweet bite…it all melts into a smooth, velvety nirvana. Nothing else comes close.
Geez…I'm beginning to sound like Vector. Enough about the food. Let's get things back in the proper perspective. The unthinkable has happened. The world's greatest hero is no longer with us. Sonic the Hedgehog has been murdered in cold blood. The world grieves at his passing. Now Vector, Charmy, and myself, the Chaotix Agency, are on the case. Right now we have more questions than answers, but hopefully that will change as we uncover the facts. Though one thing in particular continues to cross my mind. Sonic's murder was bad enough, but the way he was murdered has got me thinking. Who would hate him so much that he or she felt like a shooting and stabbing of that magnitude was necessary? Not to mention adding insult by cutting off his tail and quills. Like Abrams said, the killer must have some deeply personal issues. We will track down the one responsible for this unforgivable crime and bring him…or her to justice.
"Your waffles are ready gentlemen." The waitress smiled as she handed out the food, along with two glasses of orange juice and a cup of hot tea. It wasn't hard to figure out who had the tea.
Vector's plate was stacked high with four waffles topped with cherries, butter, and syrup. Charmy's had two with apples and syrup. Espio's had a single waffle with just blueberries.
"Th…thank you…" The crocodile stammered as he started to blush.
The waitress giggled. "You're welcome, hon."
As she walked away to the kitchen, Vector just had to turn around and catch another look at her. Espio just shook his head and looked down at his meal. Charmy had already begun chowing down on his. The waffles were always sweet inside the Waffle Hut, but Vector had his eye on something sweeter for a long time.
Abigail was a pure-white rabbit in her early twenties, with soft fur and a charming disposition. Nine times out of ten she had a smile on her face. So happy. She was tall and slender, with long whiskers and entrancing azure eyes and ears that stood in attention. Abigail was quite a looker, definitely easy on the eyes. If you looked up the word "curves" in the dictionary, seeing a picture of Abigail wouldn't be stretching the truth by any means. She was, in Vector's eyes, an angel.
Vector has been one of the "cool" kids some years back. He was always among the popular crowd and wasn't afraid to accept a challenge. He was rude, crude, loud, and boisterous. His attitude had helped him stand apart from the pack. Whether it was a rap battle, Vector had them all beat with his meticulous flow and wordplay. Whether it was a street fight, his raw power and tough hide had defeated many a challenger. It also helped that he was the largest out of the bunch. "Big Bad" was a nickname given to him by his buddies. Many of the younger children thought he was, simply put, awesome. Compared to Espio, he's had a relatively happy childhood. Not to mention the two are pretty much complete opposites, and yet they're still close friends.
His first taste of music happened when he was four years old; a hip-hop music video came on his parents' television. It featured a deejay absolutely obliterating the turntables. Scratchin' and rollin' with such style. Such grace. The artist was a skunk named DJ Scratchensniff. He was an expert at his craft. From his flashy clothes, to his ice cool swagger, to the funky fresh beats and rhymes, this man was Vector's idol. But one thing in particular had caught his eye. Scratchensniff had on a pair of large, black headphones that screamed "tiiiiiight". And as it turned out, you can get your own pair. They were sold in stores. Ever since he saw those 'phones, Vector knew he had to have them. He begged his parents over and over, until they finally agreed. The headphones were his, on his next birthday. Since then, he's rarely seen without them.
As big and confident as he was, Vector has always been a klutz when it came to interacting with attractive females. He was an awkward, clumsy, stuttering pile of nerves whenever he attempted to converse with one. From Big Bad Wolf to Tiny Timid Puppy. Humorous…yet pathetic. Because he's been rollin' with the boys so much, he hasn't really had a chance to experience the opposite side of the emotions spectrum. Emotions like…sensitivity, compassion, and…dare I say it…loooooove. Fortunately the big guy is only twenty years old; he's still got plenty of time to learn about the intricacies of the opposite sex…
Vector was daydreaming, lost in her allure…her magnetism… He was well on his way to cloud nine.
"Hey Casanova." Espio said.
He was still lost.
"Helloooo…"
He didn't answer, still floating along.
Espio slammed a fist down on the table, clanking the utensils. "VECTOR!"
The crocodile slightly jumped, snapping out of it. "Huh! Huh? What'd you say?"
"You plan on asking her out before the restaurant closes down?"
"You can't rush love, Espy. You can't rush love. It uh… takes time..."
"Oh please. You've been saying that for nearly a month now. Either ask her out or stop oogling her. It's getting sad."
"It…it will happen. It will happen in due time."
"What? Puberty?"
"Har har."
"Stop pussyfooting. If you're not going to ask her out, then I'll do it for you."
"Don't you dare!"
Espio stood up.
Vector began to panic. "Hey…HEY! What're you doin'?! Stop!"
The ninja cupped his hands around his mouth. "Hey Abigail!"
Vector pulled him back down into his seat. "Shh! Shut up dude!"
The rabbit peeked out from the kitchen. "Yes? Did you need something?"
"Oh…n…no! It' s nothing. So…Sorry!" Vector replied.
"Okay."
He waited until she went back into the kitchen, and then shot Espio with a dirty look. "Why'd you do that for?!"
"I was doing you a favor. You know, giving you a backbone."
"Look. I'll ask her when I'm ready. Okay? Don't do that again."
"Fine. Just remember. The longer you wait, the harder it's going to be."
"I know..."
Espio finished off another bite and washed it down with a sip of tea. "Well then, shall we get down to business? There's a case to be solved."
"Yeah." Charmy replied.
Vector nodded in agreement. "Let's start."
"Okay. Now…as you guys know, I've already searched the scene of the crime last night. Couldn't find a thing. So the next logical step would be to question Sonic's friends. Ask those closest to him."
"Actually." Vector interrupted with a mouthful. "I've already interrogated Knuckles and Tails."
Espio looked pleasantly surprised. "…You have? When?"
"Last night while you were talking with Ray. I've asked them some questions, and I've managed to uncover one piece of the puzzle."
"What'd you find out?"
"I discovered the reason why Sonic was found in Amy's apartment with a bouquet of roses. It was…because of Knuckles. He was responsible."
"Knuckles?!" Charmy dropped his fork. "You mean he…killed Sonic?"
"No no! Nothin' like that. Let me explain." Vector gulped some orange juice. "Now we all know that Sonic and Knuckles like to have their sparring matches now and then, right?"
"Right." Espio replied.
"Here's the kicker. Four days before the murder, the two had another match. Both of them knew that Amy's birthday was comin' up. Knuckles knew how much Sonic didn't like being around her, and Sonic also knew how much Knuckles couldn't stand being around Rouge. So an interesting wager was made. If Sonic lost the match, he'd have to show up at Amy's house with roses on the night before her birthday. If Knuckles lost, he'd have to show up at Rouge's place with roses. And…judging by what we saw, Sonic lost."
Espio rubbed his chin. "So it would be safe to assume that the murderer followed Sonic around…and waited until he was inside the apartment before killing him."
"I'd think so." Vector nodded. "Inside where there are no witnesses."
"Wait a minute. The police said Amy wasn't home when Sonic was killed. That would mean…Sonic went into her house without permission?" Charmy asked.
Vector inhaled an entire waffle. "Either that or the killer forced him in."
"Did Tails say anything important?"
"Nah. Poor kid was just as strung out as Amy."
"In any case, that's one part of the mystery solved. But there's also the matter of the CD that was playing." Espio said.
Charmy wiped some apple topping from his chin. "Ah…that song… 'I Say a Little Prayer For You.' Right?"
"Right. And you guys have never heard the song before or recognize it from anywhere?"
Both the bee and crocodile shook their heads. It wasn't ringing any bells. Of course, Espio had heard the tune before. But he didn't know where…at least that's what he says.
"Alright then. Chaotix." The chameleon announced. "We haven't done this in awhile, but the three of us are going to separate."
"We're gonna split up?" Charmy asked after finishing off his orange juice.
"Yeah. We'll cover more ground this way. Vector?"
"Yeah dawg?"
"Don't call me that again. I want you to hit all the music stores in the city. Gather as much information as you can. Find out if anyone has recently sold a CD single of 'I Say a Little Prayer for You'. Got it?"
"Gotcha."
"Now I realize you haven't any done real investigating lately, Charmy. So this will be a good chance for you to get some experience."
"Thanks Espio…"
"Don't mention it. You still have your cell phone, right?"
"Right!"
"Good. If you run into any trouble, fly away as hard and fast as you can. Call up Vector and he'll be there in a hurry. Okay?"
"Okay."
Espio wasn't too fond of carrying cell phones or any other mobile electronic devices on him while he was on missions, especially ones that require stealth or his ninjitsu expertise. He needed absolute concentration. There's nothing more embarrassing than blowing your cover caused by a ring tone, or getting distracted in a fight by a vibration.
"What did you want me to do?" Charmy questioned.
"Search around Amy Hedgehog's neighborhood. Find any clues. Ask the citizens there if they have seen anything suspicious. Anything out of the ordinary."
"Right."
"What are you going to do?" Vector asked.
"I'm going to find Ray the Squirrel. That snot-nosed kid's definitely hiding something. I'm almost positive he knows something about Sonic's murder…and Mighty."
Vector cleaned up his plate. "Still can't believe Ray acted like that toward you. Something's up with him."
"We'll see. The time is now…9:02 am. We'll meet back here at 7:00 pm. Yes, it will be an all-day assignment. If you need a break, take a break. If you're hungry, grab a bite to eat."
"What about our Agency?" Charmy asked. "Who's gonna look after it?"
"I've already posted a sign on the door. The office will be closed. The Chaotix Agency will no longer take any more clients until we solve the Sonic the Hedgehog case. He was a great friend and a hero to us all. The killer will be captured and punished to the fullest extent of the law. It's the least we can do for him."
Vector and Charmy were silent. It really is all they could do for the blue blur.
Espio raised two fingers as Abigail walked toward their table. "Check please."
"Okay. I'll be right back."
She returned with the black book. Espio and Vector split the bill. The crocodile placed seven dollars inside as a tip, as he always did since seeing her. Abigail soon returned to collect the money.
"You can keep the change." Vector smiled at her, but avoided eye contact.
"Why thank you, hon. You guys have a good day, okay?"
Charmy lifted up and stretched out. "We will!"
The rabbit began to walk toward the other side of the restaurant.
"Hey Abigail." Espio suddenly said.
She turned around. "Yes sir?"
"I believe Vector has something he wanted to say to you."
The reptile flashed one hell of an evil-eye toward the ninja, not appreciating what he just did. Espio just smirked at him.
"Oh? What did you want to tell me?"
Vector felt hot in the face as he got up from his seat. His brain went haywire, preventing him from forming a coherent sentence. "Err…that is…uhh…err…yeah…"
"Hee hee. What's wrong? Cat got your tongue?"
"Umm…ummm….eeeee….thanks for the food!" He managed to spit out, and then made a mad dash out the door.
Abigail covered her mouth as she giggled. "What a silly crocodile."
"Oh you have no idea…" Espio commented.
Both the bee and chameleon shook their heads as they exit the restaurant as well, meeting up with Vector. He stood there with his arms crossed, looking quite annoyed as he stared right at Espio.
"I hate you."
"You're welcome. Okay guys, it's time to start the case. Remember to meet back at the Waffle Hut at 7:00 pm. Be careful out there. Keep your eyes peeled. Now let's move!"
Espio, Charmy, and Vector went their separate ways. And so it began.
The Case of the Fallen Hero.
Charmy returned to Hudson Street, where Amy's home was still surrounded by police tape. The scene of the crime seemed deserted. Amy couldn't reside there now, so she was relocated until the whole thing blew over. The bee could still feel a slight chill emanating from the place. But there was no time for fear. He had a task to do.
The kid didn't travel too far down the sidewalk before he approached an elderly man in suspenders.
"Hello. I'm Charmy, part of the Chaotix Agency. I'm a detective. I'm just here to ask you a quick question. Have you noticed anything strange or suspicious last night before Sonic was murdered? Anything at all?"
The old man thought for a bit, before he shook his head. "…No…no I'm afraid not kiddo."
"Okay. Thank you. Here…" The bee handed him a business card. "That's the number to my cell phone. Call if anything comes up. Okay?"
"…Sure. Thank you."
Charmy crossed the street and approached a teenage girl listening to her mp3 player. He asked her the same question…and pretty much got the same answer. Her friend didn't know anything either. The bee buzzed along and questioned a middle-aged man sitting on the curb, still nothing.
Before he continued further, he noticed a black car with fully dark-tinted windows appearing. Sleek and sporty it was, had to cost at least fifty grand. It had pulled up from around the corner and stopped in front of the first house on the street, the engine idling. Charmy didn't pay any mind and resumed.
All he got was the same reply when he approached a few houses and knocked on their doors. No one seemed to notice anything out of the ordinary. The two young girls playing jump rope down the road had nothing.
"Nope!"
"Uh-uh! Sorry!"
"Heyyyy! You wanna play 'House' with us?"
"Yeah! You wanna play 'House'? You can be the daddy!"
"Umm…heh heh…no thanks."
He wasn't quite ready to be a father yet. A freaky one at that. He interrogated a little runt with a squirt gun sitting on the porch, but he didn't know anything either.
Charmy heard the sound of an increasingly louder engine and he turned around. There was that black car, sitting there with the ignition on. Something was amiss, though. He didn't remember the vehicle being this close to him. The bee could've sworn it was further down the road. Strange. Dismissing it as his imagination, he ignored it and kept going.
The young man washing his midsize car had nothing for the kid. Charmy knocked on another door, but no one answered. He could hear a German Shepard barking in the backyard. There was an old couple sitting on a swing bench next door. Still no leads. Charmy couldn't believe no one had noticed anything. Then again, the murder did happen pretty late at night.
He turned around and there was that black car again. It sat there, engine still running. Again, something didn't feel right. He had second thoughts before but now he was definitely sure. The vehicle had no doubt moved closer to him. Charmy suddenly didn't feel so good, feeling a nervous pang hit his stomach. The tension was beginning to rise. Breathing deep, he leisurely buzzed down the street, acting as though he didn't notice the car's presence.
As Charmy moved down the street, he could hear the car creeping along with him. The slight crinkle of tires rolling over the concrete clued him off. His palms were clammy and his heart pounded. Whenever he stopped, the car stopped. Whenever he moved, the car followed. Whether he walked fast or slow, the car matched the speed.
The bee continued moving forth. He thought about flying away, but he was very young and his wings haven't fully developed yet. His maximum altitude would be about nine feet, tops. And he could only maintain it for maybe ten seconds before he would tire himself out. He wouldn't get too far.
The street seemed to stretch on forever. The car didn't let up. It still maintained close distance. Charmy tried to silently mouth the words 'Help Me' to any bystanders, but he was pretty much ignored. By now he couldn't handle any more pressure. He had to do something. He decided to make a break for it.
Charmy made a sudden right turn and dashed as fast as he can into the nearest backyard, hoping to cut through and lose them. He didn't bother looking back as he heard the car doors opening. He didn't want to know who was after him. The bee jumped as soon as he heard voices yelling after him, but he didn't stop running.
"HEY YOU! STOP!"
"C'MERE BOY! C'MERE!"
At 11:22 am, a cautious Vector walked through the front door of "The Beat", a small independent music store on 11th street. He looked back outside through the small window, for he noticed a sleek black car was following him as well.
"What be the matter, Vecta'?" the clerk asked.
"A black car's been behind me for seven blocks. It's following me like it's the police or somethin'."
"Hey mon! Don't be bringin' no fuzzies up in my store!"
"Don't worry, Pierce. I don't think the police would be rollin' around in a slick sports car."
Vector looked both ways through the window. Vehicles clogged the streets but that black sports car was nowhere in sight.
"I think I lost 'em."
"Good."
The gray coyote Pierce was behind the counter, leaning back in his chair quite comfortably. The music bumping through the stereo and his baggy clothes tipped you off that the late teenager was a big fan of hip-hop, just as Vector was. They were good friends that engaged in rap battles years back, spitting hot verses at one another. And no, Pierce isn't his real name. It's a moniker he earned from his peers because, well, nearly every part of his face was pierced. His ears, eyelids, nose, lip, and tongue…punctured and ringed. Whether or not he has other pierced body parts is better left unknown. He's actually a pretty laid-back guy despite his hardcore appearance. Judging by the faint odor in the store, Mary Jane had paid him a visit today…if you catch my drift.
Vector and Pierce met in front of the counter with a handshake, the pinky-hook, the lean-in, and then pats on each other's backs.
"So wassup mon? What cha doin' 'ere?" Pierce asked.
"You hear about Sonic's murder last night?"
"Yeah… Was all over da news. Someone really had it in for dat blue hog. He got bloodied up bad."
"I know. Me, Charmy, and Espio investigated the scene. Police found a CD single there. It was playing the song 'I Say a Little Prayer for You' when Amy found Sonic. Do you remember selling any CD singles of that song lately?"
Pierce thought for a bit, putting a hand in his baggy jeans. "…Nah. Don't remember selling dat to anybody. Never even heard of it."
"I didn't think you would. Say, do you have a phone book?"
"Yeah. Why?"
"I'm supposed to go to every music store in the city and see if they recently sold that CD. Instead of doin' that, I'll just call them up. It'll be faster…"
"…and safer. Dat black car won't be followin' ya around."
Pierce retrieved a somewhat-tattered phone book from under the register. "Here ya go. Phone's on da counter."
"Thanks man."
"No prob."
Vector thumbed through the yellow pages until he reached the music store section. There were a total of sixteen in the entire city. He dialed the first one on the list. "Dan's Music Emporium".
The crocodile waited for three dial tones before someone picked up.
"Hello? Yeah. I was wondering if you have sold a CD single of "I Say a Little Prayer for You" recently…okay…I'll hold on…."
Vector stayed on the line for almost two minutes before a response.
"…alright…yeah…okay, thank you." He said before hanging up.
Pierce leaned on the counter. "Well?"
"Nope. Time to try the next one."
"Can't Stop the Music" was the next one on the list. They didn't even carry the single in stock. "Tunes-R-Us" was the same way. Vector kept striking out as he moved down the list…until he got to the number nine store, ironically named "Sonic Boom". He dialed up the number. After two dial tones, it was answered.
"Yeah, hi. I was wondering if you have sold a CD single of "I Say a Little Prayer for You" recently…alright…I'm a detective for the Chaotix Agency…I'll wait…"
He waited for more than seven long minutes, almost ready to hang up. The cheesy love song playing in the background didn't help either.
"…Yeah? Uh-huh. Really? Yes. This is a crucial part of finding Sonic's murderer. Yeah. You think I can see the tapes? Okay…yes…yes…I'm Vector Crocodile. Not quite yet. I'll let you know. Thank you. Thank you. Bye."
"Sounds like you got somethin', mon."
"Yeah, finally. They received one copy of the single in a shipment about a month ago. Just now, they checked the electronic inventory count and it said they still had one…but there's a little problem…"
"And what dat be?"
"After checking through their CD stock, they couldn't find the one copy. Which means…"
"It was stolen."
"Right. But I'm not gonna jump to conclusions quite yet. I'm gonna call the other music stores first."
"Good." Pierce pulled out a pack of cigarettes. "I need a smoke. Come out back with me."
"Sure."
Outside, the two chilled for a bit. They leaned back against the brick wall in a narrow alleyway. Pierce took out his Zippo lighter, lit up, and inhaled. He silently offered Vector a puff, but he waved his hand in refusal.
"Nah, I'm cool. I already quit."
"Alright. So…you ever hook up wit dat girl?"
"What girl?"
"Aye! Don't play dumb wit me! Dat honeypot at da Waffle Hut…ahh…what's her name?"
"I don't…remember."
"Vecta…I know when you're lyin' to me. Shoot…I know ya better than ya know yourself."
Vector suddenly became quiet. The coyote was right to a point.
"Seriously though, you betta ask her before she's taken. She be a keeper."
"I will…"
Pierce playfully nudged him with an elbow. "Though between you and me, I wouldn't mind slicin' myself a piece of dat. I just might take her myself."
Vector turned to him with a very bothered look. "What?"
"Haha! Nah mon. I'm only kiddin', I'm only kiddin'. I wouldn't do dat to ya. Shoulda seen da look on your face though. Funny as hell yeah?"
"Let's just drop the subject. Awright?"
"Awright awright... Whatever ya say."
The coyote expelled the nicotine fog through his nose. "You know Vecta', there'd be a lotta rumors floatin' around about who killed Sonic."
Vector turned to him, eyes widening. "…Like who?"
"Some major power playas I hear. Word on de street is that a certain crime organization ain't not too fond of Sonic."
"Crime organization? What crime organization?"
Pierce took another puff and exhaled. "I don't know. But like I said, it's just rumors. Street talk."
"Hmm…"
The coyote looked up toward the high-noon sun. "That's de life of a hero for ya. A blessing and a curse."
A silent Vector stared toward the ground, thoughts beginning to race.
"No matter how much a hero is loved or how many fans he has, he will always have enemies. There's no way around it. I'm sure Sonic knew de risks of taking on the responsibility. He knew it came with de territory. He's got some cajones. Damn shame it ended up the way it did."
Pierce took his last puff and flicked the cigarette. "Alright. Let's go back inside."
Vector was back on the phone, continuing down the list of stores. Pierce leaned in beside him. "Rick's Records" was next, and it proved to be a waste of time. No one even answered the phone. "The Wall" was a bust as well. He went through the rest of the list. Nothing came up. He called "Rick's Records" once more, only to get another string of dial tones.
The crocodile sighed as he paced around. "C'mon you dumbasses…pick up."
"Whoa…" Pierce muttered as he looked out the front door.
The same black car that followed Vector stopped right in front of the shop. Not good. It seems like he has been spotted. Pierce stared as the dark-tinted window gradually slid down. The coyote's heart and eyes jumped as the barrel of an Uzi submachine gun appeared from the car, aimed right at the store.
"GET DOWN!" Pierce shouted as he tackled Vector to the ground, knocking the phone out of his hand.
"Hey! Whaddya doin' man!"
The front door and window shattered as bullets began to rip through the store. The discs, walls, shelves, and tables disintegrated bit by bit. Countless pieces of debris shot up like popcorn. The store was being eaten alive as the damage tallied up. If you stood, you were dead. Vector and Pierce stayed as low and still as they could, holding each other during the projectile barrage. After about ten seconds of gunfire, the car peeled off for a hasty getaway. To the two, those ten seconds felt like an eternity.
"Are you okay, Pierce?"
"I'm fine, mon. You?"
"I'm cool."
Pierce was reluctant, but stood back up amidst the destruction. Vector wasn't far behind.
"Good God, Vecta! What da hell was all dat about?"
"I have no freakin' idea."
"Dat car WAS following you!"
"And? I don't know those people! I don't know why the hell they want to kill me!"
Pierce remained silent for a few seconds before he scratched his head. "Sorry mon. Didn't mean for it to go like dat."
"It's all good. Though I have a feeling those hit-n-runners are connected to Sonic's death."
"Yeah…no doubt." The coyote took a good long look around the store, now in utter shambles. "Daaaaamn…what a mess. Aye yai yai! My pops is gonna be PISSED!"
1:49 pm. Espio's detective work had brought him to Halsey, a housing project in southeastern Station Square. The bad part of town. The place your parents warned you about. Nearly thirty percent of Station Square's crimes happen here. You could tell just by looking at the place. Lowlifes and miscreants linger around the grimy ghettos like moths to a flame. Rampant vandalism and armed robbery marked the unfortunate homes and businesses. Even the sky around this area seems darker than the rest of the city. For every day you live here was like playing another round of Russian Roulette.
Regardless of the risks involved, Espio ventured forth. According to a tip he received from a paranoid hyena, Ray lived in a small house on 214th Ave. The chameleon knew he was in hostile territory. He wanted to avoid fights whenever possible, but if fools want to challenge him…so be it.
Walking down 210th street, the ninja paid no mind to the thugs loitering on the stoops... Though the thugs loitering on the stoops did mind the ninja walking down 210th street.
A pack of bears, all dressed in blue jeans and dark red t-shirts, all looked at him as he walked. The leader of the pack was the biggest of them all, standing at least 7'3'' and 500-plus pounds. With a sly grin he stood in Espio's path, blocking his way. The cocky bear was nearly twice as tall as him.
"Heh. You lost kid?" he growled. "Haven't seen you 'round here before."
Espio could smell the booze on him. "That's because I haven't been here before. Have you seen Ray the Squirrel? I hear he lives around here."
"Maybe. Though I don't think it's good for your health to be snoopin' 'round here. You best turn your little ass around before somethin' bad happens to ya."
"I can't leave. I'm a detective investigating the murder of Sonic the Hedgehog. Ray is a prime suspect."
"Oh? You're a detective?" he grinned wide, then turned to his posse. "You hear that, guys? Lizard boy here is a detective!"
"Oh noes! A detective!"
"Oooooooh!"
"Kick his ass!"
"Beat his ass, Jeffrey!"
The huge bear reached into his pocket. "You see, Lizard Boy. We don't take kindly to police or nosy little detectives up in our business. Go home."
"I'm not leaving. If you don't have any information regarding Ray, then move out of my way."
"Hey, that rhymed!"
"Shuddap!" Jeffrey shouted.
"Sorry boss..."
Jeffrey slowly pulled out a large steel knife, nearly a foot long. "See this bad boy? You see it, don't cha? Eh? I've gutted a lot of fools with this."
"Your mother must be proud."
"And I've got no problem using this on you. Leave and this won't happen."
"I'm not leaving. So go right ahead."
Espio stood completely still with hands down his side, nerves like steel. Ready to snap like a mouse trap. His eyes focused past Jeffrey, as if he wasn't important. Jeffrey gripped the knife tight in his paw.
"Cut 'em!"
"Stab that fool!"
"Get 'em Jeff!"
"Aww yeah. It's on now…"
Jeffrey thrust forward, the knife aimed at the chameleon's throat. With almost supernatural reflexes, Espio grabbed and twisted the bear's wrist with his left hand, forcibly disarming the knife. The chameleon quickly followed up with a vicious open-palm jab to the throat, making the bear fall over like a chopped redwood tree.
He couldn't scream if he wanted to. Jeffrey held his throat with both hands, gagging and gasping for air. The blinding pain combined with the jarring impact rendered him nearly impossible to speak. The moisture forming in his reddening eyes said it all.
Espio resumed walking down the street as if nothing happened. Just a speed bump in his path. He didn't even look back. Jeffrey's four buddies came to his aid. They glanced at the chameleon, having second thoughts about attacking him. If he could incapacitate their big boss in three seconds flat, who knows what he could do them.
The ninja continued down the street, being careful not to draw attention. Espio noticed a pair of sneakers hanging on a power line above. There was 214th Ave on the left, just as the source said. Ray's home was on the right side, seventh one down.
He maintained his cool as he came near the residence. The house was pretty small, no more than two bedroom by the look of it. Yard was well maintained. Closed blinds covered all the windows. Seems like Ray wasn't too fond of company. Espio knocked on the door and waited. No answer. He knocked a second time. Again, no answer. He knocked for the third and final time. Still, nothing.
Whether Ray wasn't home or intentionally avoiding him, he was going to enter the house one way or another. Normally, Espio wouldn't enter a person's house without permission, but this is Sonic's murder we're talking about. Not to mention the squirrel definitely had a connection with his lost friend, Mighty.
With a quick pick of the lock, he opened the door with a slight creak.
Chapter 4 is next…
