* * *
3/8
The powder blue van lumbered up the mansion drive, through the gates and next to
the detective's sedan. Albrecht, warrant in hand, met them at the front door.
"Paperwork squared away?"
"Yeah. Good luck on the easter egg hunt, but we're lucky if we get to see
anything beyond the cat h- I mean, enclosure. This bastard's got some friends
in high places."
"He was gonna say cat house, wasn't he?"
"I think so."
Albrecht ignored them. Annoying they might be, but they were among the more
helpful of the feds he'd had to deal with. "So, you guys can tell me if this is
all to code, right?" Fawkes looked at Hobbes, who faced the detective and said,
"Absolutely. 'S what we do."
As Albrecht walked inside, Darien asked, "We can?"
"I can, anyway. What, you think this is the first time we've had to pay rent,
Fawksey? You know better."
"Yeah, well, inspecting the kitty pens at the zoo isn't exactly..."
"Oh, you better hope we never gotta do the zoo again."
"Again?"
Hobbes let the statement hang in the air as they followed the policeman, who
presented the warrant to Marc St. Germaine himself.
"I regret this," the grey-haired man said. "Truly. I do not know how this
tragedy occurred. I merely want my Czarina back. Ah, I do not know if these
made it onto the system yet, but here are my permits for Czarina and her mate.
Do you know when he might be delivered, by the way?"
Hobbes took the papers, noticing a slight tremble to them as he did. He looked
sharply up at the man, studying his face.
"About the 12th," Fawkes replied, giving Hobbes a chance to watch the man as he
was distracted. "Of never. Look, having a tiger is a big responsibility.
Don't think you're going to be seeing bachelor #1 any time soon."
"I would protest, but it seems rumors of my interest in pharmacology have-"
"With all due respect," Albrecht replied, in a voice heavy with irony, "stuff
it. Show us the pens, and we'll see just how good you are at housekeeping."
The aristocratic man winced, and made a sweeping motion. "Detective, Agents,
this way. And really, Detective, I doubt you'll get your department that gold
star today. If I were engaged in crafting illicit substances, do you truly
believe I'd keep my wares in a tiger pit?"
All three ignored the arm, and St. Germaine sighed and led the way. As Hobbes
checked the enclosure, he risked frequent glances at the drug dealer. The man
seemed melancholy for a master criminal, especially when he gazed at spots the
big cat had obviously frequented. He let the inspection take just long enough
so that Darien had a chance to watch him too, in between a brief appearance and
disappearance. Then he came back to the owner of the beast.
"OK, Germy,"
"St. Germaine"
"Whatever. This place checks out. So, how do you suppose your tiger ended up
mauling yon jogger?"
It was a very pale St. Germaine who answered, "I have no idea."
* * *
Once outside again, Albrecht stopped the pair.
"So that's it?"
"Not quite, my friend, not quite." Hobbes turned to his partner. "So, you
notice anything weird about that guy?"
"Well, he kept . . . looking at me." Darien shrugged. "I think maybe he's
gay."
"You think?"
"Maybe."
"Little light in the loafers?"
"I think so."
Hobbes noticed the detective getting impatient again. "What else?"
"He's slimy, and dirty as all hell, but smart."
"And he's scared," Albrecht added. Hobbes nodded approvingly, which seemed to
annoy the cop, but he continued. "He's afraid of something. Hell if I know
what, though. Legally, we're hogtied, at least for now."
"Maybe he thinks kitty's gonna get back at him for years of ill-treatment?"
"You said everything looked fine."
"Yeah, now. But a guy with his filthy lucre's got the cash to rebuild a damaged
enclosure between when the cat busted out and now."
"Hobbes, did you just say lucre?"
"Lucre, moolah, cash, whatever, Fawkes. Point is, three things could've
happened. Either someone let the cat out on purpose, in which case the
detective here can get 'em on some kinda negligent homicide, or likewise if they
left the door open by accident. Or, the cat was so badly off she busted out
herself, and they've fixed everything up since. All depends what kind of shape
she's in when we find her."
"Yeah, well, we've gotta find her first." Albrecht slid into his car and picked
up his cell phone. "I'll check back in with everybody. You guys . . . go have
some lunch or something."
"Any suggestions?"
"Hey, I usually have hot dogs by the station. Don't look at me."
"I think that'd be just about in our per diem, huh Bobby?"
"Hot dog cart? Maybe. If we skip the sauerkraut." Bobby tapped the detective
on the shoulder. "Hey, call us if she turns up. Otherwise, my partner and I
are gonna check out the Pacific Northwest. Meet up this afternoon?"
"Sure." Albrecht flipped his cell closed, shut his car door, and took off.
Fawkes and Hobbes climbed into the van.
"So, wanna go see what you can see?"
"Hobbes, that place is huge."
"So . . ."
"So I didn't find anything before, and I'm on eight already. I get anywhere
beyond what we've already seen and I might not make it out."
"Oh. Crap. Okay, well, Claire's gonna have your juice pretty soon. Meanwhile,
forget hot dogs. This ain't Seattle, but they gotta have decent sea food
somewhere."
"Lead on."
As Bobby pulled the van out and headed back towards the city, he noted, "So, ex-
con bird boy was conspicuously absent there."
"Well, I don't think he's official. Plus, he's on tiger detail."
"Yeah. Well, whatever his deal is, I hope he's having better luck than we are."
"Couple hours, we'll know for sure."
* * *
At least it had stopped raining. The air was heavy, though, and wet. Eric
followed the crow on the wing, as he'd done all day. Somehow he thought the
bird seemed frustrated. Maybe he was just projecting. There would be the odd
flash of vision from the flier, but never of the tiger itself. No more mauled
humans, yet, but several large dogs and an errant deer had wound up on the
striped cat's bad side. Dutifully, he called each in to Albrecht, who spread
the news around. The latest location was far too close to Sarah's school for
comfort, and he decided to hang around to give her a ride home. As he leaned
his bike against a brick alley wall, the crow called once, and the ghost Kevin
whispered "He's here."
"Hey, Draven!" Darien Fawkes. Eric looked at the lanky agent, recalling the
brother's warning. It was a puzzle. The pieces had strange edges. What had
Kevin made? The tiger, somehow? Something else? //Save him. From what?//
More disturbing; how did he know the dead man's name? Ice tickled his neck as
Darien continued, "Hobbes sent me over to check in."
"Coulda called."
"Yeah, well, Hobbes wants to regroup. His exact words were, 'go check on the
Crocodile Hunter, willya? I'll catch up.'" Darien grinned crookedly. "So, any
luck?"
"Not lately."
"At least you're finding where she's been." Fawkes shrugged. "Shouldn't be too
long now." A second later, a girl with blonde-streaked hair rounded the corner
and came up on Eric. She blinked the setting sun out of her eyes. "Ick!
Smells like dead dog over here."
"Hate to break it to you, but it is dead dog. I wouldn't look around the next
corner. How'd you know where I'd be?" Eric ruffled her hair as she considered
the newcomer."
"First convenient place outside 'loitering psycho' distance from school. Hey,
who's your friend?"
"I'm Darien." He smiled at her. "Charmed."
"I'm sure," Sarah responded, but his smile was contagious, and she returned it.
"Picking Sarah up from school," Draven explained to Fawkes, who shrugged. Then
a low coughing roar echoed from no clear direction. Two sets of eyes went wide,
and Sarah edged towards the bike.
"Aw, crap." Fawkes pulled his tranquilizer gun. Eric scanned the alley and
sought his familiar. Frustration answered. The roar sounded again.
Then a piercing tone replied. The animal's noises became pained, and claws
scraped asphalt, the sound becoming progressively softer as the beast ran away.
"Do I have your attention? Good!" The muffled voice echoed off the alley walls.
"Don't pursue the cat."
"What the F-" began Darien and Sarah, then looked at each other. Eric shut his
eyes and focused. The crow circled, searching.
"Do I have your agreement?"
"Why should we agree to anything?" Draven yelled back, opening his eyes.
The response was gunfire.
Sarah screamed, and Eric crumpled.
* * *