XXXVI: Bad Moon Rising


When the Dillo came up upon its destination, the rumbling machinery slowed to an idle to let off one of its passengers. As Qrow's feet touched the ground, a number of brown toads scuttled out of the path and into the surrounding underbrush. He gazed upon his goal with a tired fondness and a genuine gladness to be done with traveling for the day.

The pink exterior of the Inn and Out was as he left it. A solitary building on an abandoned strip of land. The descending orb of fire in the sky revealed to him they had made good time. A look back made him notice his chauffeur was watching him expectantly.

"Thanks for the lift." He grinned. "It was an adventure."

"Are you coming around to liking motorcycles?" Roscoe asked hopefully.

"Not in a million years." He would sooner fight every Grimm on Remnant barehanded. "What's next for tomorrow? We still have a killer on the loose."

They were on a deadline now. Five days purchased from the DJ was not a lot. That cutoff date was also not taking into account that another emergency might pop up. A sleepy settlement like this should not have had as many distractions, but after a homicide, a skirmish, and a radio seizure, nothing seemed out of the realm of possibility. They would have to make every moment count.

"Finding those tonfas have to be our top priority." The deputy placed her palms on the dashboard to balance herself. "That is our missing link. We find it and we could end up with much more."

Locating his weapon could be a game changer. A witness to interview or new physical evidence would be huge. Since they knew that Cobalt's body was transported after death, then they might find where he was murdered. There was also the best-case scenario where the weapon was in the possession of the murderer.

"We should also figure out where Cobalt went after he left the ferry." She continued. "Understanding his exact movements could generate a lead on the weapon."

"Right. Yang mentioned that he wanted to kill a Grimm." They had spoken of what his eldest had known about her classmate on the way over to pass the time. "Where would you even go around here to find them?"

"You're the huntsman. Shouldn't you know?"

"I'm just a visitor here. It's not like I have a sixth sense for danger. I tend to just follow the screaming. Other than that, I could only guess where they are."

From what Qrow could tell, they did not get much action in these parts. The sparse population did not make it a magnet for monsters like Vale. Without the lingering negativity, it did not even constitute a draw point like Mountain Glenn. The addition of the militia to clean up stragglers and natural barriers like the waterline restricted the spaces to find wild Grimm further.

"The militia has the most experience. We could lean on them and try finding hot spots of Grimm activity. From there we could try tracking down a herd."

That was a promising idea. Now that Qrow thought about it, Cobalt had a knack for tracking. If his teacher was to be believed, it might have ended up being his specialty. He may have followed a similar path to finding a Grimm to fight.

If he had found one at all. While the slash across Cobalt's chest might have been genuine, there was no telling how fresh it was. Maybe he had been attacked sometime afterwards. In which case, the entire proposed sequence of events would be off.

Won't know until we start. He thought as he agreed to Roscoe's proposal.

"As good a plan as any. Let's start early. There is a lot of ground to make up."

She smiled to consent to the timetable. Placing her hands back on the throttle, she prepared to leave. The machine roared alive to begin its next journey. Before Roscoe could ride away, Qrow unexpectedly spoke up.

"Hey…" He trailed off when he realized he did not know what to say.

"Yeah?" The engine died down again.

"You don't have to leave so soon. Did you want to come up?" Realizing how salacious that sounded, he made sure to explain. "I'm sure Tai and the kids would be happy to see you."

"Oh." A conflicted expression passed before her face.

"If you don't want-"

"It's not that." She rushed out. "Really. Any other time I would love to."

"But?"

"But I have a few things I need to follow up on. Really important matters that can't wait until tomorrow. Otherwise, I would be all over that." She also needed to clarify the vague statement. "Uh, seeing Ruby and Yang again."

Of course. What else would she be all over? He was not blind. His nieces cared for her. Yang would not have confided in the older woman otherwise. Ruby was a bit of a wild card in how she reacted to other people but even she seemed to be at ease with Roscoe.

He started talking before he got even more off track. "Anything I should help with?"

"No. Just a few things for my peace of mind." She offered a bashful grin. "See you tomorrow then?"

"Count on it."

Watching Roscoe drive off made him uneasy. After spending the better part of two days with her, Qrow would have thought that he would be itching to be rid of the overbearing deputy. Now he oddly missed her presence.

Choosing to forget about those troubling feelings, he slunk his way to the hotel. Up the stairs and down the hallway brought him back to the room his family was staying in. A high pitch cheer that he heard outside indicated that the girls were still up.

Letting himself in using a key, he entered a dimly lit hallway. After shutting the door, he surrendered Last Chancery to a coat rack. A tug at his collar dropped the cape to the floor. Qrow also kicked off his boots. His throbbing feet appreciated the fresh air.

The larger room Tai had rented was much nicer than the one for Qrow. That had been done with a very good reason in mind. The kiddos needed space to be themselves. Even if they were all used to living together, the peace would not last the night without some distance. Still, they could not be given their own room in a strange place like this.

The compromise was a suite with one master bed and a split twin. A little kitchenette was included so that guests could potentially cook for themselves. Unsurprisingly, that was where Qrow found them.

Crowded around the counter, the three family members were engaged in an intense card game. On the surface were various snacks and sugary drinks. Yang cackled as she pulled in some sizable winnings composed of unopened potato chip bags.

Taiyang was now gathering the cards and reshuffling the deck. The dealer was wearing rouge and lipstick that had been crudely drawn on his face. An open makeup compact next to the dark-haired girl made it easy to put together who had done the applications.

"What's going on in here?"

"Poker!" Ruby cheered beside her tower of chocolate and pretzels.

"We are using snacks as bets." Yang pointed to her father's painted face. "If you run out of currency, you can use dares instead."

"I swear they are cheating." Tai pouted with glossy lips.

"And here I thought you were getting dolled up for me." Qrow teased before taking stalk of the sheer number of goodies that they had with them. "Where did you guys get all this stuff from anyways?"

"Commissary." They said together.

"There's a commissary?" The children shrugged. "All right. Deal me in."

He sat down at the table. The father passed out two cards to each of the participants. Peeling the corners up revealed pocket rockets. It was time for him to perform his duty as the worldly uncle. In other words, he was going to beat their tiny brains in and win all of their cheese puffs.

One of the three on the flop was another Ace. The rest were non-face cards. The Branwen was starting to feel it. Yang discarded but her baby sister stayed in. He did not even mind when Ruby suggested that they style his hair as the bet for the pot. Winning would make the wager irrelevant.

When the river came up as another low number, he bit down on his tongue to not celebrate. The little munchkin had no idea she was going to lose a sizable portion of her finger foods. Maybe he would be willing to share if she begged.

He laid down his hand to much fanfare. "Three of a kind!"

Before Qrow could claim his prize, Ruby dramatically disclosed what she was holding. An off-suit deuce and five. A garbage hand in most cases. Except, this time, it just so happened that there was also a three, four, and six in the community space.

"Straight!"

"How!?" A normal person would have folded long ago.

The fluky nature of the loss left him speechless. She did not have her winning combination until the very last card was placed in the center. The odds had to have been in the single digits.

"I told you!" Tai shed actual tears.

"Rubes has been doing that the entire time." The older sibling popped a marshmallow into her mouth. "She, hmmm, plays every hand and never folds."

That strategy was working for her. Her betting stack size was twice that of Yang's. Qrow wondered what would happen if he took her to a casino. Would the streak continue? If he could convince her father, they could make a killing.

"Ready for your makeover Uncle Qrow?" The young prodigy said sweetly.

"Run it back." He growled, hellbent on leaving with his dignity intact. "Double or nothing."

A new hand was dealt. This time he had a King high kicker. While not as good as his last draw, there was a high percentage chance of a flush since both were clubs. The way the dark-haired girl was smiling, though, did not make him like his chances. Neither did he like how the blonde was setting out nail polish bottles.

〇-〇-〇

"Back up a bit." The video reversed until the figure returned on the very edge of the frame. "There! Freeze and print."

"You got it."

The security guard pressed a key. At her side, the printer whirled to life once again. The sounds of the jet ink copier printing onto paper filled the room. Miller grabbed the fresh off the presses image and added it to the pile. Shoat came to stand beside his colleague to have a glance at them.

An assortment of still frames filled out the bundle. They all contained different angles, backlighting, and focuses. One thing they had in common was the subject. A composite of who had broken into the Bullhead was coming into view. There was just one crucial piece missing.

"Can't believe we could not get a single shot of their face." The police officer grunted.

"Meh. This is better than I thought we would get." The detective countered while pointing at one in a wooded area. "That the headmaster had active cameras in the Emerald Forest at all was a stroke of luck."

"True." Shoat rubbed his ear. "But isn't it weird that they are always just out of view? It's almost like they knew that the surveillance system was there."

"Maybe. But they still slipped up. I feel like we can conclude that they are a woman."

"A red headed woman." He touched one photo that clearly showed her hair. "Grandma always said to be wary of three things in life: heights, snakes, and redheads. This is even more proof that she was right."

The warning was only slightly hypocritical since Memaw Shoat was one herself.

Miller snorted as he rearranged a few more photos. One that they both lingered on was not of their mystery lady, but of a dissolving Beowolf. It had been killed off screen and tossed into camera view. The killing blow appeared to be a bullet through its jaw.

"Whoever our perp is, she has skill." Then Miller back tracked. "I assume anyway. Not like I would know either way."

"A correct assumption, I assure you." Piped in the fourth person in the room. They were taping crime scene photos to the wall. "Such a feat is no small task!"

The law enforcement personnel turned to the aptly named Peter Port. His boisterous voice could gain the attention of the dead. Peter was a heavily built man in his late thirties or early forties. He also happened to be the investigator Beacon had placed in charge of finding their Bullhead burglar.

The two policemen were disappointed to find out that the former huntsman had not found much during his independent search. They did not hold the lack of results against Professor Port. He did not have the time or resources to devote to finding whoever it was. And, since the assumption was that the crook was a misbehaving student, there had not been any hurry to find them.

Port had been valuable in one regard. Once he was informed that the suspect had been in Vale, and of the approximate times of death for the victims, he had determined that they must have traveled through the forest. That would have taken them much longer to determine without the intimate knowledge of how the school worked.

"Give me a sense of scale. Is this something a student could have accomplished?"

"Traveling through Grimm infested woods? With only a common pistol and a knife!? Goodness gracious no. Even I would have struggled."

Shoat could see the truth in that assertion. Those were not exactly the most useful of weapons against heavily armored monsters. And if it were a student, would they have bothered resorting to stealing so obviously? They surely would have had easier access to armament without having to break into a secure aircraft.

For the same reasons that it was not a student, it was probably not an instructor. Port would have been able to identify them from the screen grabs if it were. While the school was big, it was not so large that it would be impossible to figure out the identity from the viewpoints they had. Following up with a list of absences would confirm his suspicion, but Shoat was confident in the deduction.

"A huntress then."

"Quite a powerful one at that. The only time I could recall myself completing such a manly feat in my youth was the time I shot a Borbotusk in my pajamas." The professor stroked his mustache. "How they got my pajamas, I still haven't the foggiest."

Miller was ready to question that statement when they both observed the guard. She had wide eyes and was vigorously shaking her head to stop them. Port glanced her way and the expression changed to a smiling one. It morphed back when he turned away.

Taking the hint, the detective changed course. "Okay. A badass then. Any idea where they came from? I doubt she waltzed in without anyone noticing her."

"I do!" He pointed to one of the photos he just put up. It was an interior shot of the Bullhead focusing on the floor. "While performing my due diligence, I found that the inside grates could be lifted to reveal a hidden compartment."

"What did the pilots say about it?"

"They claimed the space served as a strong box to separate fragile and dangerous materials from the rest of the cargo."

"And they hid it on the underside of the vehicle." Came the flat observation.

"I was also quite skeptical, but let it go at the time. Now, however, I am starting to think that whatever they may have been transporting was hotter than training equipment and rations."

Smuggling. He was hinting that the Bullhead was a mule used to spirit contraband over the borders and past customs. Using a huntsman academy as a front was risky but also ingenious. Who would think to check supply runs to the defenders of the kingdoms? Attempts by officials to slow them down would be met with charges of putting citizens at risk.

"She was hiding inside and came out when the coast was clear. That would explain how no one saw her enter the premises. Where did the Bullhead come from?"

"One moment." Shoat shuffled through a manifest. "The cargo was sent by a distribution center in Atlas. The shipping company is called Mantle Courier."

The police officer wrinkled his forehead. Speaking the name aloud sparked a hazy memory. He had heard something about that firm before. But he could not think of from where he had. The sleep deprivation was getting to him.

"Could we interview those pilots?" Miller asked Port. "They'd give up more if we sweated them out in an interrogation room for a few hours."

"A swell idea! Unfortunately, they left a few days ago. I had no reason to detain them, since they were technically the victims of the robbery."

Robbery. That was it. There had been a Mantle Courier truck at the warehouse that Qrow Branwen had stormed to bust the Atlas depot robbers. The crooks had planned on using the truck to smuggle the stolen goods out of Vale. What if the gang had not stolen the vehicle as they initially thought, but were using it with permission? Two cases were not a pattern unto themselves, but it could be the beginning of a trend.

"Are there any other deliveries from that center coming in soon?" The policeman asked the volunteer investigator.

"You tell us lad!" He jovially rumbled. "The schedule is in your hands."

"Oh right." Shoat really needed a nap. His finger traced the tables and graphs on the page as he searched for the information. "Yeah. There are a few drop-offs tomorrow morning. Same listed contents as the other delivery."

"But a different flying crew." Miller noted while reading over Shoat's shoulder. "If you want to talk to them, then we will have to wait. This says they will be back in a few weeks."

That would be too long of a time delay. By then, the case would be handed off to SWORD and the trail would be ice cold. Thankfully, there was another way. One that could give immediate results if they were careful.

"I have a different idea. Peter, could you check those Bullheads when they land to see if they have similar hidden compartments?"

"Sure! Want me to perform a citizen's arrest?"

"No. Take pictures but let them continue what they are doing. We want to be discreet." Shoat thought about it some more and added on. "Unless that makes you uncomfortable. I don't want to force you into doing anything you don't want to."

"Nonsense. I am always comfortable!" He pounded his chest. "Although, depending on what they bring in, my hand may be forced. For instance, I will not tolerate the trafficking of persons for cruel intentions."

"I can agree to that."

"Great. While Peter follows up on that, we will scour the city for leads." Miller gathered the photos they had printed and placed them within the same vanilla folder he had carried the weapon pictures. "Now that we have a better idea of what this person looks like, we can check cameras around the crime scenes for similar individuals."

Shoat grimaced at the humongous task before them. It would require a lot of walking, talking, and reviewing of footage. All to find one person amongst thousands. He did not look forward to that needle in a haystack search.

"Thanks for all the help." Earnie said earnestly to the two Beacon staff members.

"We always stand ready to help VPD's finest!" The guard nodded from her place at the security terminal. "I'll be in touch if I find anything."

With their farewells bid, Shoat and Miller left the security room. The hallways were barren as they walked towards the exit. Slaps and squeaks from their shoes on the tiled floor of the administrative building echoed down the corridor.

"Want to loop me in on what you think is going on?" Miller asked. "I kind of followed what you are getting at, but why are you so sure the shipping company is involved?"

"It's a hunch I have. If I am wrong, then it meant nothing, and we only wasted some of Peter's time."

"And if you are right, we are all in for a world of hurt." He sighed. "I'm starting to think we should have gotten SWORD involved, if for no other reason than they could take the blame when it hits the fan."

Things could get messy if Professor Port did find anything incriminating. A cross kingdom smuggling ring that used an institution like Beacon for its operations was a huge security risk. The PR nightmare that would follow once it became known would be all encompassing. They had no choice though. Ignoring the possibility was an invitation to disaster.

Through the double doors to the outside world, they stepped into nighttime. The police officer had a hunch that it was late. The visual confirmation drove the point home and drained the last of his energy. He let out a loud yawn. Miller could not help but comment.

"Quitting time. Wanna grab a nightcap?"

"I can't. I'm on night patrol tonight." He checked his wristwatch for the time. "My shift starts in two hours. Wonderful."

"Really? I thought they only put rookies on that detail. That's rough."

"Yeah, but that's the job. What are you going to do?" Shoat joked.

"There is one thing." He brought out his Scroll and started typing.

"Wha-"

"Just a sec." There was a ping and a then a satisfied smirk. "How's this?"

Miller turned the device around to show his colleague. On the screen was a personnel requisition form. Shoat's name had been filled in along with an estimated timeframe that spanned for the rest of the week. Even more amazing was that it had already been approved. Usually when a form was sent in, it would take months for a decision to be reached.

"I guess that's the advantage of being a detective…"

"It has its perks. Come on. Let's get that drink. Tomorrow will be a big day."

As they walked and talked their way back to the transport pad to catch one of the evening flights to Vale, Shoat squinted at the sky. There in the distance was the moon in its broken glory beginning its assent. The lunar surface was tinted orange. There would be another blood moon tonight.

〇-〇-〇

Sebastian breathed heavily as his fist hovered at the door to room 237. He had stood outside for the last half-hour trying to work up the courage to knock. In his other hand was a message he had been tasked with delivering.

This was a favor he could not deny, yet one he did not want to fulfill. It was late, he was tired, and he did not want to disturb his favorite customer. After putting it off as long as he could, he rapped upon the door. The Shave and a Haircut styled thumps were as light and soft as he could make them.

When no one answered, he tried again. Since he did not want to perform a knock-and-ditch, he stayed put for a little longer than usual. After there was no response, he thought he had lucked out. Clearly, no one was around.

He could have kicked himself for being so dumb. There should have been no expectations of Mr. Starkey being present this evening. The drummer could have been out partying, drinking, or whatever else men of his stature did on weekdays. In fact, this very week he had been gone for an entire night and day before reappearing with his lover and child in tow. There was no way the dutiful owner could keep up with such an active celebrity.

Convincing himself that he had tried his best, Sebastian decided to give up on his pursuit and try again later. He wanted to creep away before anyone noticed him skulking about. Many a terrible rumor had been started on less. Before reaching the stairwell, a glow under the adjacent room grabbed his attention. That was when he remembered that he had given a second room to the vacationing man and his family.

Sighing to himself over not being able to weasel out of the assignment, he now knocked on Room 239. This time, much to his displeasure, he could hear movement. There approached many little footsteps followed by the inside locks being undone.

The entrance opened with a brilliant flood. Blinking to get rid of the sudden blinding light, he glanced down to find a blonde-haired girl that came up to his waist. She gazed up to him in confusion. He cleared his throat and tried for an authoritative tone. That was the way he had been taught to deal with kids.

"Hello small child." He would need to dumb down his request so she could understand. "Can you get your dark-haired daddy for me?"

She tilted her head at the question. He thought too late that maybe he had misjudged her age and that he needed to make the request more basic. Something like 'can you get a grown-up for me?' He had never been the best with children.

"Uncle Qrow!" She yelled before retreating inside. "There's a weirdo at the door for you."

The landowner became self-conscious at the unintended faux pas. He had read about this kind of custom. In their kind of blended family, it would be more proper for her to think of Mr. Starkey as an uncle. Labeling him as another father would trivialize the structure and hierarchy of their clan.

How embarrassing.

From the other side of the wood, he heard an impact followed by an expletive. The naughty word was followed by a stern admonishment. 'Qrow' must have bumped against something on his way over to the entryway. This was confirmed when the red-eyed man appeared in the door with a slight limp.

"Oh, hey there… guy."

There was a peculiarity to the rock star's appearance. It took a few seconds, but Sebastian figured it out. For some reason, the man was now wearing mascara and had several hair ties holding up his shadowy mane. The hotel owner decided not to question this. Whatever a patron did in their spare time was their own business.

"Mr. Sta-Branwen." Sebastian caught himself. "How are the accommodations? Are they up to your standards?"

"Yeah. The kids and Tai are having the time of their lives." When his hand came up to scratch his chin, the fingernails were shown to be painted in a jagged cherry color. "Is that why you are here?"

The counter question jolted him. There was no need for small talk, but Sebastian had been nervous and started prattling with the same tired questions he asked of everyone who stayed on his property. No reason to keep him in suspense. They were both busy men.

"No. A message was left for you up front." The former accountant handed over the folded paper with the scribbled contents. "I wanted to bring it over to you before closing time."

"Message for me, eh?" He opened the letter and began reading. "Is there a name for my secret admirer?"

"They did not leave one."

"Alright." He crushed the paper in his hands. "Thanks for bringing this up."

After exchanging a few more words, the rocker returned to his room. Sebastian fled down the stairs feeling light enough to escape gravity. Despite his initial reservations, he was glad he had taken the opportunity to converse with the musical genius. Talking with Mr. Starkey was always electric.

Floating back into his office, the woman who had asked him to deliver the message was waiting for him. Kahlua was seated behind his desk. She stared up from her Scroll as he made his existence known.

"Well?"

"I did what you asked."

The hotel owner had been confused when the woman had asked him to deliver the message to the musician-in-hiding. Also, a bit cheesed off about being asked to be a glorified messenger boy. Not wanting to rock the boat with his influential customers, he had obeyed.

"How did he take it?"

"He seemed intrigued."

"Good." She stood and surrendered the seat back to him.

Sitting down, he tried to change the height on the stool. Kahlua had for some reason lowered it as far as it would go. Pulling on the lever did not fix the imbalance. Instead, all that was produced was a clicking noise, as if the internal mechanism were broken. He would need to fix it once she had left.

The buzz headed woman walked to the door he had come through. Rather than leave, she stuck her head outside and looked around. Satisfied with what she saw, she closed and locked the only entrance. A tug on the knob made sure it was shut.

Strangest of all was when she reached up and drew the blinds to block the view outside. Since it was nighttime, there was little value to doing so. He ignored the odd actions and settled on a different matter to raise.

"Why didn't you want him to know your name?" He asked in curiosity while she continued her odd comings and goings around the enclosed space.

"I want to surprise him. Don't worry about it."

Sebastian supposed that the matter was none of his business. That was a world he had nothing to do with. The distance might be beneficial. He could never be sure when something illicit might happen. There were all sorts of stories that surrounded their 'scene.'

"Now the question is what to do with you. Can I trust you to keep quiet about what has happened so far?"

"I can be very discreet." That was a required skill in maintaining a hotel, as much as he disliked the image of his establishment as a part of the seedy underground.

"What about when the police come a knocking?"

"What-Why would they do that?"

"Hypothetically speaking." She drifted forward to stand beside him with her arm hidden under her suit jacket. "What would you do when the man comes around?"

What would he do? A morally upstanding member of society? Someone with nothing to hide nor fear? What kind of question was that? There was only one true answer.

"Why, I would help them in any way possible."

"Yeah. I figured as much."

From behind her back, she brought out her arm. In her hands was black metal. The hairs on his forearms stood up. He relaxed when he realized it could not be a real gun. That would be preposterous.

"Is that some kind of prop?"

She blinked in confusion until a toothed smile appeared. "It is. There is a neat trick it does. Want to see?"

"Indeed!" He loved tricks.

"Watch the barrel. Don't blink."

With his concentration on the end of the gun, his expectations grew. The suspense was killing him! Kahlua pulled the imitation trigger. The phony hammer lifted up and fell back down. His vision filled up with a brilliant flash followed by an unending darkness.


Author Notes: I have really enjoyed the process of writing this story. So much so that I have started planning another. I have narrowed it down to two premises to pursue. If either of them sounds interesting, let me know! It could help me decide.

The first is a tale centered around Roman Torchwick. It would be like this story in terms of tone but would focus more on heists with a supernatural element. There would also be a running theme of identity and legacy.

The second would be one about Pyrrha Nikos. This one would have a different aesthetic. I am envisioning it as a deadly tournament-esque storyline. Think Enter the Dragon crossed with The Quick and the Dead.

Chapter Next: View to a Kill (2/05/21)