My lesson for the day: having an outline for your chapters saves you a world of headaches.
I only own my original characters and this story.
"You and Mr. Peabody have dated before, right?"
Pearl, dressed in a casual red T-shirt with faded blue jeans and black-and-white sneakers, paused in her typing on Peabody's computer and looked over at Sherman in wonder. She arrived seven minutes ago, per Peabody's brief yet urgent call, to add some 'personal touches' to the penthouse's security system.
'Lucky for Peabs I know how to navigate the NYC hustle and bustle without a sweat. A little bribery to the cab driver makes for good lubricant, too.'
Peabody could handle this task himself, but Pearl had more experience in dealing with characters like Eris and their ways of thinking. Besides, the beagle sounded awfully distracted when he stated he needed to 'run some tests in his lab'. Honestly, Pearl could not blame him. The poor guy needed all the info he could get about that spy-bot he mentioned over the phone.
Not that her task ranked any higher in difficulty; only one section in the network required significant attention. The real challenge lay in the upgrade. Though she helped Peabody set up the network in the first place years ago—straight after the acquisition of this penthouse, in fact—the dog made all sorts of changes of his own since then, leaving his Hawaiian colleague and friendly rival to familiarize herself with a new interface.
But hey, who was Pearl Leilani to step down from a challenge?
Engrossed in her work, she hardly noticed Sherman walk in and stand beside her (he'd been walking by after telling Mr. Jameson, busy taking a shower, that Mr. Peabody cancelled today's WABAC trip due to "extenuating circumstances", much to the boy's disappointment), watching the beefy woman work her networking prowess on Mr. Peabody's computer. The boy remained oddly silent throughout the process, an anomaly Pearl decided against pointing out since that action could lead to an emotionally charged conversation.
Not that she didn't care for Sherman. On the contrary, the need for his safety and well-being urged her over here the moment Peabody told her what happened. Working with children simply never was a strong suit of hers.
Still, the boy's sudden interest in others' love lives bemused her, but she wanted to hear Sherman's side first. She leaned back in Peabody's office chair and crossed her arms, face riddled with questions despite its casual facade.
"We have. Why do you ask?"
Cut, clear, and to the point: natural Pearl.
Sherman bit his bottom lip in hesitation, unsure how to word what he wished to share with his patiently waiting sort-of aunt. Eventually, his own silence got to him and before the boy could stop himself he blurted out, "Mr. Peabody's been seeing someone!" Then slapped his hands over his mouth.
No taking that back.
To her credit, Pearl did not do a double take or bat an eye at this news. She instead snorted in amusement, shaking her head, hardly taken back that yet another hopeless romantic sought to attain Peabody's elusive affection.
Don't mistake her feelings for envy. That one date from college convinced her long ago of the incompatibility between her and her furry colleague, even to this day.
However, in the back of her mind, her detective side aroused slight suspicion. If Sherman was telling her of this development now, then that meant it started only recently, perhaps before Peabody received that note.
'Hmm.' Pearl tilted her head, curious. "How long has he been seeing her?"
"About two weeks," Sherman innocently replied.
And Peabody received that note just today. A bit too small of a time gap to be coincidental in Pearl's opinion. Paranoid probably, but you can never be too safe. Since grilling Sherman with more questions would only unnerve him, Pearl took a moment to study the child's sullen expression. Her head cocked the other way, ebony eyes concerned.
"I take it you're not exactly fond of her."
"Not exactly." Sherman started to pace around the room, hands behind his back in an uncanny resemblance to his dad. "Mr. Peabody and I met her during a walk through Central Park three weeks back and he invited her for coffee with us at a café once. I kinda liked her at first. She's nice and funny and is a smart worker according to Mr. Peabody...but sometimes I feel as if she's too good to be true, like she's hiding something. I don't know how else to explain it."
Wait. Eyes narrowing and body tensing up, Pearl held a hand out to gesture Sherman to pause. "Hang on. How does Peabody know how this lady is as a worker? Did he hire her recently?"
Something clicked in Sherman's orange eyes as the boy slowly looked up in realization. "No. She claims she's a freelance contractor who's working with my dad's company to better her resume." He turned to Pearl, alarmed. "You don't think..."
A serious nod constituted the detective's agreement. "We've got no solid evidence so we can't pin anything on her at this point. However, Peabody did tell me earlier that the lady at the front desk saw no one leave the note that started all this."
"Unless whoever left it was still there, just never told anyone!" Sherman chirped with a 'eureka' grin. Memories of the company's last Bring Your Kid to Work Day flashed through his mind. "That lady—her name's Kayla Connor and she comes over every Monday and Wednesday morning to discuss plans with Mr. Peabody and the rest of the board, and since today's Monday..."
Both child and woman shared a significant gaze.
"Sherman," Pearl nodded with a slight yet impressed grin, "I do believe you're onto something. Do you have any other information on her?"
Sherman put a hand to his chin, deep in thought. "Let's see. She said she's divorced, moved into an apartment just down the street...oh, and she seems to know a lot about robotics from what little I heard from her conversations with Mr. Peabody." He shrugged. "That's all I got. Sorry."
Pearl offered an assuring smile at the apology. This info provided a viable starting point and with Eris and whoever she had for help out there, every bit of evidence could help.
"What matters is that we're closer to finding out what's going on," Pearl asserted as she stood up, "We need to let your dad know so he can keep a better eye on this Connor person—that is, if he isn't already." Then to Sherman's sudden confusion, she gazed up at the door the boy left open and called out in a louder tone of voice, "Isn't that right, Jameson?"
When mumbled cursing echoed from the entrance, out stepped the disgruntled terrier himself, a palm-tree-decorated red shirt Sherman could help but notice him wearing.
"Alright, how 'conspicuous' was I this time?" Jameson finger-quoted.
Pearl tapped her bottom lip in mock consideration. "Mmm, slightly better than last time. Took me three seconds longer to find out your whereabouts."
'Big surprise,' Jameson mused with a droll eye-roll, 'she always outdoes me in stealth.' A sudden tug on his right hand drew his attention to an attentive Sherman.
"If you're gonna tell Mr. Peabody what you overheard, then why don't we all tell him together?" As far as Sherman reasoned, between the three of them, convincing Peabody would be child's play. Besides, one of them might think up another significant detail in the meantime.
Jameson shared a counseling look with Pearl, who nodded supportively as she shut down the computer and set the chair back under the desk, before redirecting his attention to Sherman and, smiling, flourished a hand to the hallway to suggest 'Lead the way, kid.'
Together the three of them strolled into the hall and towards the kitchen while reviewing what they knew about Kayla and her possible connection to Eris, whose history Sherman needed a bit of a crash course on from Pearl and Jameson. After all, the young man deserved a right to know the identity of his potential kidnapper. Keeping focus on their chat proved difficult due to the smoky smell of food strengthening the closer they drew.
Before long, the gang reached the living room where Peabody could be seen in the kitchen whipping up yet another culinary masterpiece. The moment they appeared, the white beagle tossed a pleased smile over his shoulder at them.
"Ah, Pearl! I take it from your air of satisfaction the upgrade proved a success."
Taking a seat on the couch nearby, his colleague nodded with an affirmative hum and smirk, arms and legs crossed. "Mmm, more or less." Her countenance quickly became grave. "Speaking of which, there's a few concerns we'd like to bring to your attention, mainly about who you're—"
Ding!
Everyone's attention drew to the elevator. Peabody offered Pearl an apologetic gaze. "I'm sorry. Could you hold that thought? I'm expecting company."
From Sherman's point of view, Jameson's incredulous look deserved a place in legends.
Mind? Uh, the babe you're making greens with is possibly either a world-dominating sociopath or in league with a world-dominating sociopath, so yeah, we totally mind!
That's what the terrier intended to say and would have succeeded if Pearl, smart to his ways, hadn't dashed over and clamped a hand over his mouth in time. Peabody had already turned away and approached the elevator by then, saving the detective and bodyguard the effort of explaining their strange behavior.
Meanwhile Sherman held his breath in anxiety, schooling his face into a hopefully convincing smile. He had a fair idea who stood in that elevator and only hoped nothing he and his guardians did or said would hint at their suspicions.
Sliding open, the doors revealed a woman in her early thirties with wavy sepia hair tied in a ponytail, warm-toned skin, and dazzling blue eyes. Her medium blue sweater and black corduroy pants added to her slim, big-hipped figure and round face. A friendly grin graced her plush lips before she approached the group, a purple binder cradled against her chest.
"Hello, Mr. Peabody? I'm here to drop off those plans we talked about last week." When she took note of the other three occupants in the room, she blushed with a hand to her mouth. "Oh! Sorry, am I interrupting something? I'll only be here for a few moments."
Peabody held a hand up, eyes closed in guarantee. "Not to worry, Kayla. We were about to have dinner anyway. You're free to join us if you'd like."
A beefy arm draped around Peabody's bony shoulders from out of the blue, courtesy of Jameson, the terrier's grin relaxed and open. In truth, this was his way of throwing Kayla off balance in case the lady decided to pull anything funny.
"Yeah, Peabs here is a natural gourmet." His grip tightened without hurting the smaller dog. "Speaking of which, Gusteau, what's on the menu tonight?"
"Nothing too fancy," the ivory beagle replied as he tried in vain to brush off Jameson's limb, "Just lime cilantro sweet potatoes along with side dishes of chicken salad mixed with seedless grapes, carrots, and my own special brand of dressing of course, and some crab cakes."
Peabody paused to finally take note of the other canine's continued lack of a shirt. "In front of company, really?"
"No offense, Peabody," Kayla carefully interjected before Jameson could retort, "but you wear nothing but a bowtie and glasses most of the time. I don't see any reason to get on your boyfriend's case about being decent."
That statement received quite a chain-reaction.
Pearl's head jolted down with a snort, the sudden sound startling Sherman and Jameson to the point that the kid jumped back from her with a yelp and the shell-shocked dog ripped his arm away from Peabody as if electrocuted!
Too someone long enough to point out.
My dad...and Mr. Jameson...what?
Jameson had nothing to add to this mental repertoire. What could he add?
Peabody...simply stood there. Eyes wide, mouth a straight firm line, entire body shock-rod still—if not for the lack of ice, you'd think he were cryogenically frozen. No response to the outside world whatsoever, not even when Jameson worriedly waved a hand in his face.
Kayla blinked, both at her business associate's stupor and the reactions of everyone else. Smacking her lips about in self-consciousness, she gingerly took a step forward and handed the binder to Jameson, who accepted it without a word, then started slowly backed away to the elevator.
Now seemed the perfect time for an exit.
"Okay...I'm just gonna go. It was nice meeting you all." Her wave could not have been more awkward. "Mr. Peabody, I apologize in retrospect for any offense my comment may have elicited and I will see you Wednesday! Uh, goodnight!"
And faster than a cat in a dog show, she vamoosed.
While Pearl shook her head and Sherman took the time to puzzle over whatever the heck just happened, Jameson dared a glance at Peabody, who still stood wide-eyed and stone-silent. He almost reached a hand out to shake the smaller dog back to reality, only to think better of that action and rubbed the back of his own head instead.
'At least I got a shirt on. Now that would've made things awkward' His eyes skimmed the darkening sky. 'Speaking of which, I gotta ask Peabody if he wants to take Sherman to school tomorrow—that is, assuming the big guy's brain is back online by—'
Jameson started when he felt the binder 'jump' from his hands, which turned out to be Peabody snatching it from him. Without a word, the beagle left for his bedroom, never looking back but pausing long enough to wave a hand at dinner.
"I have to look over Miss Connor's papers. Pearl, could you and Sherman make sure the food is ready to serve? I'd entrust Jameson, too, but I don't have faith in his stomach's willpower."
Under any other circumstance, Jameson would have rolled his eyes at the quip. The terseness in the beagle's behavior worried him, though, and judging by Pearl's and Sherman's countenances, he was not alone in that sentiment.
"Wait, Peabody!" Pearl called out to her colleague, taking a step forward, "That's what I wanted to ask you. Something about Kayla doesn't add up. Sherman, Jameson, and I have been going over the facts and we're worried she might be involved with Eris somehow."
Jameson set his hands akimbo, nodding. "In which case, it might not be a good idea to open that binder by yourself, Peabs. If you hand it over to me, we can—"
Before the terrier could blink, Peabody swiveled around and shot him an icy reproachful stare, one at which everyone else could not help but flinch. "Your job is to protect Sherman," he pointed out in an authoritarian tone, "not me. I am perfectly capable of defending myself against a few pieces of office paper."
Jameson could only blink, taken back by the sudden attitude in his friend. Granted Peabs never seemed peachy about him staying here; at the same time, the beagle never displayed outright severity to him either, not like now.
'What in the spirits got into him?'
Sherman looked back and forth between the dogs, equally baffled by his father's behavior and wondering if it had anything to do with Kayla's comment. Was Mr. Peabody that insulted? The young ginger took a meek step towards his father, wanting to say something to ease the tension.
"But you and Mr. Jameson dated before, right? Why should Miss Connor's comment be that big a deal?"
Peabody rubbed his forehead in frustration. His son failed to see the point here; perhaps that was for the best. "I'm sorry, Sherman; this was a mistake. I shouldn't have let Jameson into this house."
What? Everyone else could not help but gasp. Sherman shot a glance to Jameson, whose breath halted and eyes shimmered with hurt, before facing his father with an upset frown, mouth ready to retort.
Until he caught something streak across Peabody's eyes: fear?
No, wait. Yes, Sherman definitely saw fear! And not just any kind; the same variant that possessed the prodigy during the WABAC incident, when Animal Control attempted to take him away per Grunion's command.
Only then did Sherman realize. One deep breath to steel himself, the boy spoke at last. "Mr. Peabody?" He waited for the canine to turn his attention to him before continuing. "You don't trust Kayla either, do you? Are you also scared Mr. Jameson's gonna get hurt because of us?"
When those emerald eyes expanded at Sherman in shock, Pearl gently smiled in understanding.
'I see. Peabody isn't acting this way because he doesn't trust Jameson; he's just worried for his friend's safety. If one person could think Jameson is that close with him, then who else would?'
Even more, who would think that and be willing to take advantage of it?
Sherman placed a hand on his father's shoulder. "You don't have to protect everyone, Mr. Peabody, and you don't have to solve everything alone either." He nodded at the binder. "Whatever's in there, we'll face it together." Then switched his gaze over to Pearl and Jameson. "Right guys?"
Both Hawaiians shared a thoughtful glance, and faced him and Peabody with confident grins.
Pearl crossed her arms over her chest, smirking. "Well we can't let you hog all the fun, can we?"
While Jameson punched into his palm, his entire snout dominated by his eager beam. "They want a piece of me? Fine! Cuz anybody who messes with any of my ohana deals with me first!"
Peabody panned his head to take in everyone's battle-ready expressions, not entirely surprised that his son and old friends were willing to stand by him in this conflict. At last the beagle set the binder under his right arm and rubbed his left temple with his free hand.
"Why must I always attract the stubborn ones?" he murmured, not bothering to hide his growing chortle. "Very well, after dinner, we'll see if we can't find out more on Eris, though I highly doubt we'll find it in this binder. Someone of her caliber would never make such an amateurish mistake."
Pearl shrugged. "Won't know until we look. Now about those crab cakes..."
XXXXXXXXXXX
The signal has been sent. You two know what to do.
Things are about to get real.
