Chapter Seven: Mixed Messages

In a dark, secluded room sat a slightly withered man, thirty five yet tired of life. He hadn't seen sunlight in years, hadn't known what it was like to lie in a bed, to see a real toilet as opposed to the drain in the corner of his perpetual prison. Three white walls surrounded him - sometimes he imagined that they turned into a blackened abyss and swallowed him up, leaving him to a peaceful requiem, but he was always harshly pulled back to reality by the fourth wall. It was twelve solid inches of plexiglass, and was often the source of his only communication.

His captor entered the opposing room, directly outside of the plexiglass wall, metal joints whirring softly. His prosthetic legs clicked against the smooth floor. He'd long since given up on a wheelchair, exchanging it for further mobility, something he took great pride in. The captive would have been supportive if not for his captor's unrelenting evil.

The man from the outside laughed when he saw his captive's aching, desperate, hollow stare. He tapped his fingers against each other with a wild grin. He knew that the younger man was hungry, starving even, from having not been fed properly in days. Meager rations and water was all that he was given. It was juvenile in contrast to the other methods of torture they'd used against him. The prisoner no longer had full mobility in his arms, from them having been broken, healed, and rebroken so many times over.

"You know it's your fault you're here," the captor taunted, not at all bothered by the fact that he could see his captive's ribcage. He instead settled for a devious grin. "If it hadn't been for what you did, all those years ago..."

"Someone will come for me soon." Murmured the broken voice of the captive. "Soon…"

"You've been more hopeful lately. That's nice," his tormenter nodded sardonically. "But I promise you, no one is coming. I've made sure of it."

"We'll see," whispered back the voice of his captive.

The man burst into laughter, turning on his heel as he departed from the room again. As he did so, he made sure to tell the guards not to feed their prisoner at all that day.

Meanwhile, Skipper and Kowalski had just arrived at Park Zoo. Being that Rico and Private had taken the car, Skipper and Kowalski had to take the bus there, and then walk several blocks in order to actually reach the backwater club. They were both slightly disgruntled, especially considering their previous argument, but Kowalski was more smug than ever at the fact that Skipper had no choice but to see Julien. Skipper made a point to ignore that.

It was still astonishing for the both of them when they entered, how utterly fantastical the Zoo was. Loud noises, potent scents and flashing lights assaulted their senses. At the front desk, a dancer was casually seated, talking away on the phone. She glanced up to them and sighed, before telling her conversational partner that she'd call them back - again.

"Hi there," the woman greeted with a faint smile. "I'm Marlene. Is it just the two of you today?"

"Actually, we're here to see Julien." Skipper spoke up, wincing at the way Kowalski chuckled beneath his breath and shooting his friend a glare.

"Oh. Uh, I'm terribly sorry, but he doesn't… He isn't available for that sort of thing," Marlene responded, taking on a rather uncomfortable expression. "If you want to know our available dancers and their rates, then I'd be happy to tell you."

"It's not like that!" Skipper immediately denied. Slightly flustered, he continued. "I mean, we have a meeting with him. We're from Penguin Eyes."

Well, at least Kowalski and Skipper both knew that Julien wasn't a prostitute.

"Oh. Oh!" Marlene exclaimed. "Oh my gosh, I'm sorry! I thought… Well! Uh, okay then. Yeah, uh, lemme just…" Nervously, she began to stand up, smoothing out her slightly translucent white dress.

"Marlene, is everything all right here?" A smooth, soft, very high-pitched voice interrupted the mild turmoil.

The three of them turned to see a waitress, tall and beautiful, standing at the doorway. She had dark brown hair and fair, olive skin, striking blue eyes accented by her dark mascara and silver eyeshadow. She blinked up at them expectantly, smiling. Kowalski looked like he was about to faint, his mouth dropping open like he'd just seen an angel.

"Oh, Doris!" Marlene sounded relieved, shooting her co-worker a glad smile. "Uh, would you please guide these two gentlemen to the office? They're supposed to be meeting with Julien and Maurice."

"Doris," Kowalski repeated to himself under his breath, his face taking on an expression of sheer puppy-love. Skipper glanced at him with a raised brow.

"Sure thing!" Doris agreed cheerfully, before her gaze was focused on Skipper and Kowalski. "Follow me, boys."

"O-o-okay," Kowalski agreed in an obedient, nervous and very endeared tone.

Skipper rolled his eyes. He knew how Kowalski could get with women. This Doris was a pretty one, so he could sort of understand, but the way that Kowalski wore his heart up his sleeve was rather dangerous. Still, any sort of ammo to tease his brother with was good, especially since Kowalski had taken it upon himself as of late to play match-maker with Skipper's life. The two men followed her, and Skipper nodded to Marlene in thanks, who smiled back sheepishly before picking up the phone again. As they maneuvered through the crowd, Kowalski spoke up, attempting to get some conversation with his new crush.

"So uh, Doris was it?" Kowalski coughed, attempting and failing to be smooth. "My name's-"

His voice was blocked out by someone in the background deciding, in that opportune moment, to blow an air horn.

"...But everyone just calls me by my last name, which is Kowalski." He finished off, sending the waitress a sloppy grin.

Doris giggled. "Oh, that's nice! So you guys are meeting with Julien, huh?"

"Yeah," Kowalski drawled, still retaining his expression of infatuation. "We're uh, private investigators- oof!"

Skipper smacked him in the gut, giving him a warning glare. They couldn't exactly tell the details of their business ventures to random civilians, no matter how smitten they may have been with them. Kowalski grumbled softly to himself, but luckily Doris was too busy pushing through the crowd to truly notice. She guided them to a back room, where they found themselves met with an unmarked door.

Doris turned to them, her smile just as bright as ever. "Okay, Julien is just through there. Have fun!"

She waved to them, before strutting back to the main room, most likely to go about her duties. Kowalski waved dazedly, still grinning like a lovesick dog, and Skipper pushed him into the room with an annoyed growl. The two of them were then in a mostly soundproof hall, and Skipper took it upon himself to scold his brother.

"Kowalski!" He snapped. "You can't just tell people what we're doing when we're on a case!"

His second in command huffed. "I wasn't going to tell her the details!"

"Whatever," Skipper grunted, displeased. "Let's just go see what Julien wants to tell us."

Kowalski's expression of annoyance faded into smugness once more and he followed suit. The two of them came to the door at the very end of the hall and entered, finding Rico, Private, Julien, and another man waiting for them. Skipper felt his knees weaken when he saw Julien, the image of beauty and perfection, once more, and internally he sort of related to Kowalski's helpless adoration from mere moments ago. Still, he shook himself clear of any temptation and cleared his throat.

"It's good to be seeing you again, Skipper," Julien greeted him, voice soothing silk that flitted through the air like a hummingbird's wings.

"...Hello Julien." He nodded to him, throat already parched, before turning to the man who he didn't know. "Who's this?"

"This is Maurice," Julien replied, eyes smoky and never leaving Skipper. "He is the Park Zoo financial advisor and my father."

Skipper blinked, taking a step back, not having expected that. "Oh, uh, nice to meet you, sir."

"Father! I knew they were related." Private exclaimed, turning to Skipper. "They have the same last name."

Maurice looked rather uncomfortable, but Kowalski spoke up before he could, rather suspicious. "...Excuse me, but aren't you a bit… Young to be Julien's father?"

Skipper didn't think the question was particularly appropriate, even if it was what had been on their minds. Maurice was certainly older than them, perhaps around his mid-forties, but that was only seventeen years older than Julien himself. It wasn't impossible, just unlikely - an incredibly rude thing to ask regardless, but then, Kowalski had a tendency to forget his manners.

Maurice sent Julien a very tired glance. "I'm not his biological dad, no. Just a family friend who... Adopted him."

The way he used his words were very calculated, and Skipper frowned. There was clearly something the Hira family didn't want them to know, but Skipper didn't have time to think about that.

Julien giggled softly. "Ah, yes, but that is of no importance of the right now, yes? I have news for you penguins about Parker."

Skipper was still recovering from his surprise, but he settled down in one of the available chairs regardless. He pushed his chair away from Kowalski when his brother took a seat, earning a soft glare, but gestured for Julien to continue anyway. Julien seemed mildly amused but didn't mention it, instead pushing forth the newspaper clipping centered on his desk.

"Parker has gone into the hidings. It is saying right here that he went missing, and I am sure that it is being because he knows he's very responsible for what he did to my Clemmyson. He is trying to be escaping of the arrests." Julien explained, voice taking on a clinical edge.

Kowalski narrowed his eyes as he read over the succinct newspaper column, no doubt calculating something mentally before he spoke up. "...It is certainly strange that he dropped off the face of the planet like this… I don't know if I'd automatically assume he's in hiding, but it's definitely weird. Especially considering how little the police have on him. I don't think it was exactly an accident, all of this..."

"What are you saying?" Skipper frowned. "Someone planned to have Clemson killed?"

"Don't be being silly!" Julien intervened, his voice suddenly very loud and way-too-obviously nervous. "No no no, I am not thinking so. It wasn't a plan, Parker is being the fully responsible."

The room went silent for a moment and all eyes were suddenly on Julien, who was smiling tensely, tugging at the collar of his shirt. Rico and Kowalski exchanged a look of cautious distrust as Private blinked in confusion, and Maurice looked altogether bewildered. Julien's bright amber eyes were then on Skipper, and he sent him an earnest, hopeful grin.

"You are believing me, aren't you, Skipper?" Julien inquired.

Skipper gaped for a moment or so, especially when Julien gazed at him with such sweet unbridled anticipation, his warm dark skin flushing slightly under the dim office lights. Skipper couldn't help but swallow thickly and nod.

"O-of course," he responded, voice once again aching with what may have been thirst.

The expression he got in return from Julien was not the relief he expected, though, but was instead a flash of mild disappointment before it transitioned into understanding disposition. For a moment, an awkward silence drew forth, but luckily Kowalski was tactless enough to end it.

"If I may ask, Julien," he piped up. "Do you know why Parker shot Clemson?"

Immediately, Julien glanced over to Skipper, then to Maurice, before looking back to Kowalski. In a way that was very clearly feigned, he began to sniffle, and daintily wiped a fake tear from his painted eyes. With a plain facade of complete anguish, he leaned back in his chair and swept one of his yellow feathers back into his headdress.

"Parker saw me doing my dance routine, and he wanted to spend the night with me," Julien admit in a tone of suffering. "It's not unusual, but he was going a bit too far… Clemson and he got into a big argument and… Parker did the shooting of him."

Internally, Private, Kowalski, and Rico couldn't help but wonder; just who shot who?