Chapter 3 – The Heist

One of the perks of running Jimmy's personal fetch quests over the years was that Jerry gained intimate knowledge of the labyrinthine Crystal Entertainment storage warehouse—and a uber keycard that gave him permanent access. That knowledge was pivotal when it came to seeking out some of the newer arrivals based on how inventory was cataloged and stored.

Over the past three months Jerry found himself at a loss watching Jimmy falter into a shadow of himself. Jimmy was always a wolf that was larger than life, but those months took their toll on him. Without work, he often lounged around the manor in his robe, waiting for opportunities to crop up that never did. His limited experiences with therapy so far left him more erratic than usual, his emotions frayed and raw. But Jerry stood by his side, waiting for that spark to return. For Jimmy to rediscover his purpose.

Porsha getting kicked out of the show was the last straw. Jimmy being unable to do anything more than rage at his ex-protégé and put his trust in his ex-nemesis left the wolf withering into a miserable, quiet husk tonight. Jerry refused to watch that carry on any longer and decided he was going to bring a smile to Jimmy's face.

And that's how Jerry ended up navigating through the mountainous aisles of the warehouse, sweeping about with the small but intense flashlight attached to his keychain. Following him were three strapping rhinos, the sole makeup of the Hornsby Brothers Moving Company. Jerry's harebrained scheme: Use this hired muscle to liberate some of Jimmy's possessions confiscated from his old office, hopefully to bring a bit of happiness and nostalgia to the wolf.

"A-ha!" Jerry exclaimed, his light falling on the marble façade of Jimmy Crystal. At the very edge of the aisle was a ground level cubic space, populated like a tiny apartment with items and furniture from the office, but most notably among them the collection of Jimmy's art. The way it was unceremoniously left here, no one would've known it once decorated the office of the most powerful wolf in the city.

Some of the art, mostly the busts, had been damaged, chipped or broken into pieces. Jerry wondered if they got damaged in transition or if Celeste Cassidy personally took an aluminum bat to them. Jerry had the Hornsbys haul the ones that were intact back to the moving truck, but he still hadn't found the mother lode. He remained near the intersection, a physical beacon for the Hornsbys to find their way back through the twisty maze of entertainment castoffs.

Jerry spotted a box amongst the art. Holding one of the rhinos' spare crowbars, he worked the curved end into the slot of wood under the top. Once it was in deep enough, Jerry took a step back, then leapt on top of the bar with his stomach, using his weight to pry the box open. The wood shifted with a groan and Jerry hit the floor, the bar clattering next to him. He waited on the floor for a response from security. When none came, he dusted himself off and checked the contents of the box.

Stuffed within were all the awards and commemorations Jimmy won during his tenure at Crystal Entertainment. Jerry gingerly lifted a trophy shaped like the Redshore skyline, vaguely aware of the bright smile growing along his lips reflected in the polished surface. That was the first Shories Award they'd won after he'd been hired. It was the first time his hard work and tireless dedication to Jimmy's agenda paid off in real accolades. Compared to the art, the awards were in pristine condition, and yet they'd been dumped here in this massive warehouse to rot in obscurity. Jerry felt an ember of anger igniting within just thinking about it. Every production at Crystal Entertainment was a team effort from the ground up. Cassidy was essentially erasing company history because Jimmy's name was on it.

When the Hornsbys returned, Jerry signaled that the box was part of the haul. It would be a great surprise for Jimmy, but it still wasn't the mother lode. Armed with his flashlight once more, Jerry continued his search. After a few minutes, his main fear came to pass.

"Hey, you!"

Jerry froze in the intersection, his bushy tail floofing to an even greater degree. He turned around to see a dachshund in a security uniform all the way at the other end of the warehouse making the hike in his direction.

"You're not supposed to be here!" the guard said.

The Hornsbys caught up with Jerry to see what all the fuss was about. The tallest and eldest of the brothers looked down expectantly at the feline, jerking his head in the guard's direction. "Hey chief, go deal with that guy, why dontcha?"

Jerry clasped his hands together, his eyes performing a frantic dance between the rhinos, floor, and the ceiling. "Okay, so, here's the thing, aheh... I don't exactly work here anymore. When my boss resigned, so did I. I was supposed to turn my uber keycard in but never did."

The Hornsbys watched Jerry in stunned silence before they turned on each other in an explosive fit of bickering.

"You sure know how to pick 'em! We're supposed to be doing legit jobs!"

"It sounded legit! He said he worked for Crystal!"

"Keyword: worked! It's a past participle!"

The rhino looked at his brother like he insulted their mother. "You're a past participle!"

"That's not some insult. It means—"

"It means you're throwing it in my face again that you finished high school and I didn't!"

The youngest brother, the shortest of the three but with the most muscle mass, was disinterested in the argument. "He don't look so tough," he said, staring down the guard, biceps rippling in anticipation. The dachshund stopped cold at the sight. "I could go squish the lil' guy."

His brothers eyed him with irritation and said in unison, "You're still on probation!"

Like a child denied playtime, he stamped the floor. "You guys never let me have any fun!"

"As thrilling as it is to watch this argument," Jerry cut in, his voice rising to compete with the brothers, "I paid you for a job and it's not done yet."

"Yeah, it is," the eldest Hornsby said. "Chief, we're outta here before that guard calls for backup and somebody gets arrested. Somebody meaning us!" He motioned for his brothers to follow him and they began a hurried trek back through the twisty and confounding layout of the warehouse.

Jerry chased after them, a daunting feat with his stubby legs. "You can't go! We still haven't found...!"

His heart leapt before his brain even registered what he saw. It was just the flicker of his eyes; he didn't even know why he looked to the side, but he saw it. A bicorn hat attached to the snow-white head of a devilishly handsome wolf. The rest was obscured behind a large crate.

"Wait, wait, wait"! Jerry cried. "This! It's right here! The last thing!"

"No way, chief!"

"I'll pay double!"

Turning on a dime, the brothers were suddenly stampeding toward Jerry. He yelped and jumped out of the way to avoid getting trampled but kept pointing frantically at the picture. The rhinos moved the crate with relative ease before heaving the massive painting out into the aisle. It was definitely a three-rhino job.

Jerry sucked in his breath. "Careful, careful!"

"Hey, we're pro-FESH-uhn-als."

Jerry didn't like how the rhino slurred that last word, but it wasn't like he could carry the portrait himself.

"Get back here!" the guard called, hot on their trail.

"Go, go, go!" The Hornsbys ripped their way toward the exit, Jerry's legs thumping the floor with more power than he could remember exerting in years just to keep up. He made a desperate dive and latched onto the frame of the painting, letting the hired hands carry him the rest of the way.

Soon they were out of the warehouse and into the brisk night air where the box truck was parked close by. The brothers lifted the painting into the cargo area in the back of the truck with Jerry still hanging on for dear life. One of the brothers broke off and jumped into the driver's side of the truck while the other two of secured the painting with the rest of the spoils.

The two brothers in the back rolled the cargo door three quarters of the way down as the truck started up and peeled out of the lot. Jerry peered out of the opening as the warehouse shrank in the distance, the guard watching their escape with his radio dangling uselessly by his side. A sharp turn sent Jerry careening into a wall.

"Hang on to somethin', chief!"

Jerry didn't need to be told twice, already grappling a copious amount of cargo netting. With the danger shrinking behind them and a front row seat to the painting he was desperate to retrieve, Jerry let the adrenaline drain from his body and all the thoughts and feelings evoked by the imagery drift into his mind. He remembered Cleo Keller bringing up the true importance and hidden meaning behind the painting right before they staged Jimmy's intervention. Her words echoed in his mind clear as day, because they never quite left him since that day.

"I think you mean more to him than you—or he—realizes."

That wasn't all that was on his mind. The day he first laid eyes on that painting was a turning point in his professional life, in more ways than one, and had all the vividness of yesterday.

Mingling throughout Jimmy Crystal's daunting office were employees representing every tier of the company. Everyone ranging from high level executives to bottom rung nobodies—bottom rung especially at Jimmy's behest, the type that would return to their ground floor or basement level offices to regale their coworkers to "ooh" and "aaah"s with tales of basking in the opulence of Jimmy's fabled office, of rubbing elbows with the big boss himself—were invited to the small unveiling party to witness the latest addition to Jimmy's personal art collection.

Jerry bounced between pockets of chatter, listening to some conversations, participating in others. There was a proud buoyancy in his gait and a bold fluff to his tail, more so than usual. He helped Jimmy arrange the party and was excited for the unveiling himself. Normally Jerry would be one of the first to see what painting or sculpture was being added to the office, but he was totally in the dark this time. It wasn't like Jimmy to play coy, and that piqued his interest.

Deciding to fully embrace the moment, Jerry looked to indulge in a drink, but when the stag carrying the champagne tray passed him a third time, he cleared his throat quite loudly. Jerry ignored the quiet sigh that came as the waiter knelt. Taking a glass, Jerry watched the crystalline bubbles flutter to the top as the noon sunlight shimmering through the balcony illuminated the beige liquid into a vibrant gold. He closed his eyes and turned his nose up, dismissing the waiter using a snooty fanning motion, and the stag returned to serving the taller partygoers. It shouldn't have been a surprise that Jimmy copped for the good stuff, but when the first sip of champagne went down Jerry's gullet nice and smooth, he knew he was holding a very expensive drink.

A shift in the atmosphere from the group crowding Jimmy warned Jerry that the unveiling was about to happen soon. With a lifetime of experience being so close to the ground, Jerry moved near where the tarp-covered painting was hanging, finding Suki already waiting. She seemed more interested in her empty champagne glass than the tarp on the wall.

"This is so exciting!" Jerry said, rocking on his feet. "I wonder what it is this time."

Suki glanced around at the rest of the art placed around the office and said, in her most deadpan voice, "Truly a mystery for the ages."

"You don't have to be a jerk about it."

"Oh, there's a jerk in this room, but it's not me."

Jerry turned away from Suki; he wasn't going to let her ruin this moment. He never understood why Jimmy tolerated her. Under that haughty exterior was always some spark of disrespect and defiance.

Eventually, the crowd gathered behind them as Jimmy made his way over to the tarp. "Y'know, I had this whole spiel I was gonna do but then I thought, you know what they say: A picture's worth a thousand words. So, I'll let it do all the talking. Feast your eyes!" Ripping the tarp away, Jimmy posed next to the painting with a smarmy grin.

Polite applause filled the office. Suki joined in even if she couldn't feign interest on her face. But Jerry couldn't bring himself to clap. Knees buckling, Jerry's body felt light and loose. Like he could slip and float away if he wasn't careful. There was no way. There was just no way. This had to be a dream.

In the painting was Jimmy in a bicorn hat and old military uniform, but next to him was the spitting image of Jerry. How did this happen? He was seen. Seen enough to be included next to Jimmy in a sacred space reserved only for the wolf.

Jerry was so lost in his feelings he barely noticed Byron Wallis next to him. The wombat, smartly dressed in a slate blue suit and standing around Jerry's height, leaned in close and said in a volume so quiet only Jerry could hear, "Congrats. Looks like you're enjoying the fruits of labor from years of sucking up. Or sucking off."

"E-excuse me?" Jerry responded, his brain feeling lethargic. There was so much audacity there he couldn't believe it was something actually said to him, but as he turned to face Byron, he could see the contempt in the wombat's eyes.

"You think I'm the only one that sees what's going on here? Everyone's saying it."

"Maybe everyone should keep their mouths shut because they don't know what they're talking about."

Byron took a casual sip from his own glass. "I'm sure I'd be his favorite too if I made his toes curl every lunch hour. Must be real convenient having you down the hall."

Jerry felt exposed like salt in a fresh wound. He chanced a look over his shoulder and caught several glances in his direction. Everyone's saying it. Was Byron right? Was that how everyone felt, what they were taking away from Jimmy's gesture? That Jerry was just some plaything being placated and rewarded for his "services?" It would explain the running disrespect. Even the waiter seemed to think less of him.

He had strong feelings for Jimmy, but they were also true. Something much more than lust or infatuation, it was genuine love. Good and bad, right or wrong, he loved Jimmy for the whole package. And despite his feelings, he never stepped out of line. He always put in the work. In his humble opinion, he went above and beyond; he wasn't getting enough credit in the company for his accomplishments.

Thinking about that made something angry boil up from within and form a tight lump in his throat. Jerry could get upset. He'd hold small grudges. But very rarely was he pissed off. Byron succeeded where many had failed. He was defiling what should have been one of Jerry's happiest moments at Crystal Entertainment. But Jerry was also not one to succumb to anger. He often used his feelings to fuel his actions. This time would be no different.

He looked down on Byron like he was ten feet tall staring at a pile of pure scum. "Mr. Crystal is very meticulous about his reputation," he said. "You think he'd enjoy nasty rumors going around about him having sexual relations with his employees? I can already imagine how he'll react once I tell him what's being said and who's saying it. He's going to have more than just words with that person."

Byron sucked his teeth. "You're really going to snitch on me to the boss?"

"You are literally harassing me right now. If reporting you gets you to stop this homophobic nonsense, I'll do it in a heartbeat. My career can survive some nasty rumors. Can yours survive crossing Mr. Crystal?"

A cavalcade of expressions crossed Byron's face, most of them shades of horror as he realized the implications behind that. He pulled himself together, his eyes narrowing at the feline, and Jerry saw something he'd never seen from the wombat before: begrudging respect.

"Look who grew a pair," Byron said before stalking off.

"Asshole," Jerry huffed.

Getting rid of Byron didn't make Jerry feel any better. He couldn't shake the feeling of many eyes watching him, judging him. It was as if his humiliation manifested, a massive neon blanket billowing around him to draw everyone's attention. He could feel his eyes growing misty with anger. The tears would be coming in hot soon if he wasn't careful. He needed to escape prying eyes and judgmental whispers, imagined or not, and broke away from the crowd.

Jerry started making his way to the balcony. He set his glass down somewhere—he couldn't remember where, not like it mattered—and found privacy on the balcony, but not for long. He froze as the last voice he wanted to hear in his sorry state followed him.

"Hey Jerry, you've been awfully quiet," Jimmy said. "You don't like it?"

Jerry quickly wiped his eyes with his sleeve before he turned to the wolf, his eyes closed and a warm smile on his muzzle, and said, "No, sir. I love it. You have no idea how much this means to me."

"That's what I thought," Jimmy responded, scratching his chin as if ruminating on something. He retreated back inside, but not before saying, "Soak it in, Jerry. You earned it."

Like clouds parting after a tumultuous storm, Jerry's distress cleared, and his anger evaporated. There was only one person's opinion in there he cared about, and it was just made loud and clear. Jimmy Crystal was a hard man to please. In the rare event that he sang your praises, he often meant it. Jerry did earn it in Jimmy eyes, and nothing Byron or anyone else could say would change that fact. Feeling much better, Jerry went back into the office.

"Everybody, get back to work!" Jimmy barked. "I don't pay your lazy asses to stand around and stare at art all day."

The party was over, and the crowd immediately dispersed. Jerry needed to get back to his own busy schedule but took his time. There was likely a traffic jam in the hallway as the elevator could only hold so many. He really didn't want to watch everyone bunched up in front of his office, especially if that meant more jealousy and scorn from the likes of Byron.

Once the crowd thinned, Jerry was surprised to find Jimmy still standing in front of the painting, studying it. The wolf's eyes flickered toward Jerry, a subtle acknowledgment that he knew he was being watched.

"It's you and me against the world, Jerry," Jimmy said out of the blue. "You and me."

"Absolutely, sir," Jerry said, a warm shudder gripping his body as he left.

When the Hornsby Brothers Moving Company truck pulled up onto the Crystal estate, the front door to the manor was ajar. Jerry was the first out of the truck and on his way to the door when he heard Jimmy's voice booming from inside.

"That lying bastard!"

Jerry stepped into the foyer with its magnificent chandelier and saw Jimmy with his lawyer Rick Delaney. The hedgehog held up his phone while Jimmy, in his robe, hunched over to see get a good look at the video playing on it.

"What's happening?" Jerry asked.

"I hired a P.I. to keep tabs on that coyote paparazzo," Delaney explained. "Caught him riding a marathon on his Peloton exercise bike today. So much for breaking every bone in his body."

"I oughta go over to his place and break all his bones for real!" Jimmy threatened, brandishing a fist. Delaney released a very long sigh.

Jerry chose to ignore the threat. "This is good news... right?"

Delaney put his phone away. "It will be if I can also convince Oliver Schwartz not to sue Jimmy for emotional distress."

One of Jimmy's eyebrows twitched. "That's a crock of shit! He was supposed to be helping me with my emotional distress!"

"If you pay his hazard fee alongside a generous donation to his retirement fund, I should be able to make this go away."

"This is extortion! This is highway robbery! This is—"

"A small price to pay for almost bashing your therapist's head in with a chair."

"I wasn't trying to bash his head in!"

"I wonder if a judge would believe that," Delaney pondered. He turned to Jerry and whispered, "He is so lucky the Moon thing never went to trial."

"I can hear you," Jimmy growled.

"Good! Remember that." Delaney began to leave but stopped in the doorway. "A little professional advice... please don't threaten, assault, or traumatize anyone else before tomorrow. Look, I love the billable hours, but even I need a break."

Jimmy grumbled something as his lawyer left, then his eyes found Jerry beaming up at him. "Where did you disappear to?"

"It's a surprise!" Jerry sang. The feline skipped out of the open door, pressed his fingers to his lips, and released a whistle that rolled across the estate grounds and filled the night air. "Bring 'em in, guys!"

Beginning a labored march, the Hornsby brothers carried the spoils of the heist inside as Jerry directed them to a spacious hallway. Jimmy mostly kept to himself but keenly watched every move they made. He wanted to tell them not to touch anything with their grubby hands, but the rhinos reminded him of the gorillas that beat his security into pulps. They seemed like the low-class type that would trash the place in retaliation.

The last piece delivered was the painting of Jimmy and Jerry together. Sensing Jimmy's growing discomfort, Jerry quickly ushered the rhinos back outside until the eldest held the door just as he was pushing it closed.

"Hey, chief! Don't forget you promised double pay!"

"Yes, yes, you'll get the rest of your money," Jerry said. "Good night!" He pushed the door against the rhino's weight, which proved fruitless until the rhino decided to close it himself. When Jerry returned to hallway he could see, even in the low light of the wall lamps, the faint trace of a smile on Jimmy.

"You really found all this stuff?" the wolf asked. "I thought Cassidy had it all destroyed."

"We took everything we could find that was still intact."

Jimmy made a slow stride down the hallway, taking in each piece before stopping on a familiar painting. "You and me against the world," he said with a wistful breath.

Jerry turned to him, wide-eyed. "You remember that?"

"Of course. Did ya think I was lying when I said that?"

"No, no, of course not, sir. It's just... that was a profound moment for me."

Jerry looked at the painting again, ran his fingers across the textured brush strokes forming his image, and let out an airy, tranquil sigh. Mission accomplished. When he turned around, Jimmy was gone.

"Mr. Crystal?"

He wandered the hall until he heard a metal cap against glass and followed the sound into the living room. Entrenched in the couch, Jimmy poured himself a drink, and Jerry's heart sank as the wolf began drowning his sorrows in a glass of bourbon.