Murder & Gin

This is a standalone story, no episodic stuff here! So no cursory warnings about reading this first or blah blah blah! I hope you enjoy it, now let's get to the introduction!

And with that out of the way...

NO SEX WARNING!!

Oh, are you still here? Good! So what the hell is this then?

It's a prequel to my Love & Lattes series! One of my lovely readers commented about wanting to see a noir-style story with the male lead of that story and so ya know what?

I've NEVER written detective/noir style before, this was quite an interesting(and challenging!) undertaking.

For context, it's not a genre I have ANY interaction with and this was done for fun, so take it with a grain of salt, and if you're a purist of the genre, I apologize in advance if I butchered it!

Oh! And you can more or less read this without ruining L&L, likewise, you don't have to have read L&L to enjoy this!

Okay, that's enough chatter, I hope you enjoy it! Let's jump right in!

I came home late, nearly midnight when I parked the car. I didn't bother getting the umbrella out, it was a short walk from my sedan to the front door of my empty home. That being said, it was pouring down, so by the time I fumbled to unlock the door in the dark to get inside, my ears and hair were soaked by rain. Maybe the umbrella would have been a wiser choice after all.

Running a paw over my forehead I pushed my wet bangs out of my vision, giving both my crimson ears labored flicks to dislodge the clinging droplets on my fur. I really should invest in a hat sometime, but given the duster I typically wore on the job, I didn't want to get any wayward commentary of Tommy guns and mafia jokes for sporting a fedora.

The house was deathly quiet like it always was, save for the sheets of rain pushing against the window panes. It was always silent like this, as it had been for the last three years. I reached to my paw and withdrew the wedding band, setting it on the small mantel in front of a picture frame.

I stared at the picture for a long moment, it was a younger, happier me, another wolf pushed up to me in a hug, her own paw outstretched with two padded-fingers out in a victory or peace sign. My former wife and late-ex, Hazel. It had been a little over three years since I lost her in a car accident. Granted, we were already separated by then, but that didn't mean much, given I never wanted the divorce or stopped loving her.

Her own wedding band stayed in my wallet, while I kept mine on my paw when out. I wasn't ready to try again and frankly, doubted I ever would be. I made note of the small pile of mail the cleaning service had left on the table as I made my way to the kitchen and brought out a small bottle of gin. I wasn't much of a drinking wolf, but after this last case, I was ready to take the edge off.

I had barely mixed the drink and brought the glass to my muzzle to take a sip when my cellphone buzzed in my duster pocket. My teeth clenched in a frustrated snarl but I set my gin and tonic down, reaching a paw in to collect it. The number on the screen was one that was recognized all too well, one of the local police sergeants I worked with, a jaguar by the name of McCreedy.

"Go ahead, Sergeant," I didn't bother hiding the fatigue or edge in my voice as I answered the call.

"Convel, I wanted to ask you about the missing kit you found tonight."

I gripped my drink and took a long pull from it before snarling into the phone, "I didn't find a kit, just a corpse. I already gave my statement to the officers."

"I know that's tough to deal with, Isaac. It's not something you ever can get used to, no matter how long you've done the job," His voice came out in a neutral tone of sympathy, if that were true he must have been the exception, he didn't sound the slightest bit off. Then again, that could just be McCreedy's way of dealing with it.

"We don't have the same job, I'm just a P.I, not a cop." I snarled back in response.

"Yeah, but you've still seen enough of the same shit we do, Convel. I know you get it. Anyway, come to the station tomorrow at nine, I've got some questions for you."

That made my ears lift. "Wait- Am I suspect?"

"When there's a dead fawn involved? Even my own men are suspects until I know otherwise, Isaac. But no, I'm not calling you down here for that kind of questioning."

"Fine," I responded and didn't wait on an answer before disconnecting the call and finishing my drink.

It was a typical case, a missing kit that had vanished from their school playground. The police were involved but the mother asked me to keep tabs on her ex-husband to see if he was more involved than he let on. He wasn't, but I managed to pick the trail up with some digging.

I felt myself flinch as I recalled how I found the little buck, his throat cut open. It looked like he'd been in that condition for a day or more. Pouring myself another shot of just straight gin, I took it down, letting the shock of alcohol calm my nerves before I put the bottle away.

Shutting the lights off, I moved to my empty bed, knowing that I'd be having nightmares tonight no matter what I did.

McCreedy thrust a solid black paw at me in greeting. "Morning Convel."

I took a long sip of the coffee from the styrofoam cup, the station's brew was the cheapest stuff they could find, and it tasted the part, but hey, coffee is coffee when you're coming off maybe three hours of solid rest. After a moment I pushed my own paw into his, the crimson fur clashing with the black as we gave a few firm shakes and parted grips. "Morning."

The big cat gave a jerk of his head to follow. "C'mon, this won't take long."

We moved through the station and I gave nods to the few beat cops I recognized. For fair or foul, when you're in the private investigator racket, you get to know the local police. You have to, given you're more or less doing everything from stalking to breaking and entering sometimes. Granted, I never told them about the more shady ones like the latter, but they knew, they weren't stupid after all.

I was led into one of the small questioning rooms, another wolf sitting at the table there looking over some reports. I saw my own was clearly there, laid out in the scattered pile of other various papers.

His coat of fur was more of a charcoal color, no doubt matching the habit he had, I could smell the smoke on his fur and clothes even from the door. My fur of course was crimson-red except where it lightened under my jaw and underside.

"This is our homicide guy, Detective Rickson." The Jaguar nodded and the wolf stood from the table, thrusting his paw out. He was bigger than me, and that didn't happen very often as far as wolves go. Sure, someone like a bear, rhino, or even some of the larger big cats like a lion, but not a fellow dog.

We shared pawgrips in a shake and I had to look up at him as he stared down his snout at me, his eyes green but they looked drained of life, faded like a kit's toy that had been in the yard too long. I could see he was sizing me up as my blue eyes narrowed and I broke the pawclasp.

"A pleasure," I drolled the words, looking bored, letting him see I saw right through him and didn't appreciate the analyzing.

"Apologies, Convel. When you're in the game as long as I've been, it's just instinct upon new meetings, it's nothing personal," Rickson spoke the words, his voice matching his eyes, sharp, cold, and a little dead inside.

"It's fine, let's cut to the heart of it, I've no patience this morning after a night of nightmares," I snarled and took another sip of the cheap coffee, letting the taste alone help jar my brain a little more.

The smoky-furred detective gave me a nod and slapped down the case file, the crime scene photographs on full display, including a nice up-close picture of the kit's throat. I snarled and averted my eyes, my brain all too happy to recall the live scene.

"So, how did you get involved with this, Convel?" Rickson's voice faded into an interrogative tone and I shot a glare at the Jaguar in response to it.

"It's in my statement," I snarled as I kept staring down the big cat in the room. "McCreedy, I thought this wasn't an interrogation?"

"Don't get your tail in a fluff, Isaac, it's not," Rickson answered before the cat even parted his jaws. "I think you slashed this fawn's throat about as much as I think you hung the moon in the sky last night. Just tell me yourself."

I pinched at the bridge of my snout and sighed before finishing off the coffee. I made a point to take my time as I tossed the cup in the small wastebasket then met the other wolf's dead-looking eyes.

"His mother, Rita Walkins asked me to get involved. Thought the ex-husband might have been involved in the missing kit's disappearance."

"Yeah, that deer is easy on the eyes, and-"

"I don't like your train of thought, Detective!" I slammed my paw to the table and snarled at him before holding my paw up. "I keep my dead wife's ring on me for a reason! I'm not interested in that kind of transaction, she paid me with a bank account."

"Dead, 'Ex'-wife." The other wolf cocked a brow in challenge.

"You son of a bitch!" I barked out and grabbed the other wolf by the collar, wrenching him forward on the table, spitting the slur at him, my spittle hitting his muzzle. He just looked bored with the display before McCreedy pushed between us.

"Convel, calm down! James, what the fuck are you doing?!" The jaguar snarled at him with a glare.

The wolf settled back into his chair, calmly adjusting the blazer jacket he wore and fixing one of the buttons that came free of his shirt beneath it. "Seeing how much passion the dog has, seeing if he's dead inside after the bullshit with, Hazel."

"How do you even know my fucking wife's na-"

"I pulled your file, Convel, of course, I would read up on your tail before you walked into this station." He snarled in response as McCreedy gave his own hiss and pulled back, straightening his own blazer.

"James, what's this all about?" The big cat spat the words out, shifting his gaze between the two of us as I straightened my duster with my own disapproving growl.

"My partner moved states, I don't trust any other cop in this station with the job. I wanted to make sure you had some fire in that belly of yours and weren't just a walking husk before I offered. I want you to help me find the piece of shit that killed this kit."

I was taken back by the words, but the logical side of my brain quickly put it all in order. It made sense, the ice-cold detached detective with the impassioned one. The quintessential good-cop, bad-cop scenario.

"No deal. I'm no cop and I've no interest in going through the academy or changing careers." I snarled and turned on the heel of my boot, starting out of the room.

"I'll see your fee doubled, it'll be as a retainer, can even get you regular work if it goes well."

"I don't need the money, I'm no fucking cop, Rickson!" I spat the words out, still furious that he brought Hazel into this.

"You think I don't fucking see it in your eyes, Convel?" He snarled out as he stood and put a paw on the picture I flinched away from. "This will eat at you, but you don't have the resources alone to find this son of a bitch. Help me find this bastard, for the damn kit's sake if nothing else. We've no idea if it'll happen again, and your help could make the difference!"

My paw rested on the handle of the door, glaring at the foggy glass pane in it for several seconds. It was the most the wolf had said in the whole meeting and he was right. My mind immediately turned to my ex-wife, what would she want me to do? We talked about kits, we wanted them, but she couldn't and it was just one more stress that added to our marriage and caused the collapse.

He knew what he was doing all too well, bringing her into this, getting me angry, and he sealed the deal with the next words he spoke, "What do you think Hazel would want you to do?"

"Punch you in the face, that's what she'd want me to do," I sneered the words as I turned back to them and pushed forward, slamming my paws to the table as I glared down hard at the photos.

I stared for a long series of moments then shot a glare up towards his cold dead eyes. "I know your tricks, and if you think you'll easily mold my attitude towards things in-"

"Scouts honor, all on the up and up from here, partner." Rickson showed his teeth in a predatory grin as he presented his handpaw to me.

With a snarl, I stood fully again, sizing him up myself now, then shoved my grip into his as we gave one good pump of a shake before each pulled away at the same time. "Fine, you've got me, but at two and a half."

"Ha! So much for it not being about money, eh?" The wolf barked the words out as he leaned back in the chair, pulling a cigarette out right there in the room and lighting it up.

"Principal of the matter," I snorted out dryly, McCreedy looking annoyed with the whole situation as he spoke out.

"You can't just decide this shit on your own, James."

"I just did, boss. You going to go hit the streets and find this bastard?" He gave the cat a bored look.

"Whatever, I'll look at the special budget allocation and see what I can do." McCreedy hissed the words and gave my arm a slap with his paw on the way out. "Good to have you aboard though, Convel."

"We'll see," I drolled out the door shutting behind me as McCreedy left the room, leaving me alone with the other wolf.

"So, I've been going over your statement, along with the crime scene details. The obvious first suspects are the parents, what do you think?" Rickson settled right into business, pushing out the various details over the desk including small reports on each of the fawn's parents.

"Right to it, eh? Not even going to give me a tour or introduce me to the guys?" I spoke the words with a bit of edge in my voice but moved over to the assorted pictures and documents.

"I said I'd be on the up with you. No more bullshit, Convel, I won't disrespect you by making a show of things, and you strike me as the kind of dog that wants to get right to things."

My ears lifted at that and I shook my head as I pointed to the small file about the parents. "I don't think either of them are involved. I've dealt with this situation before with missing kits, granted not that culminated into something like this... Most were found a day later or-"

Of course, my mind wavered to the ones I didn't find, then, of course, it moved to the idea of if something like this happened to them or worse. I felt myself pulled back as a paw slapped into my arm in a grip.

"Stay with me, Convel. You can daydream about the ones that got away later." The smoke-furred dog growled as he released my arm. "Though, I'd say best to not dwell on it, for your own sanity. Lament it when you're a gibbering mess in an old folk home and you're no longer being counted on. Right now focus on the good you can still do."

"Nice motivational speech, coach. I'll totally kick that winning field goal now," I drolled the words out but sharpened my focus once more, pushing those dark regrets to the side.

"Did you actually kick in high school?"

The casual question took me by surprise, this dog was all over the place, shifting from casual talk to business and back again so fluidly. It made me wonder if he were trying to psych me out again. "Yeah, both high school and college, it's what got me in, to begin with."

"Interesting, I was the quarterback. Two-time state champs, went on to win three bowl games in my university."

"Given your size, I'm not surprised. Scouts must have been clambering for your tail, what got you here?" I asked the question in a neutral tone, still not sure where this was going.

"Oh, they were, I had a few pro teams interested. The short version, something happened to my sister in my senior year, they never found the bastard. I knew what my calling was then."

"That's rough." There was an inflection of sympathy in my tone, but given the shit he'd said about Hazel, to goad me into this, that was the most the bastard was getting, not that I think he wanted condolences, this was probably just another way of feeling me out.

I gave a nod and tapped a padded-finger on the photo of the father, "I had eyes on him nearly the whole time. Even I could tell it happened a day prior. I'm confident he couldn't have slipped away long enough to do it."

He folded his arms, giving a nod and not seeming to have missed a beat with the shift of dialog. "Fair enough. There were no signs of any kind of sexual trauma either, this wasn't some sicko getting his rocks off that way. Still, why just kill a kit like that, even serial killers tend to avoid that sort of thing."

I shook my head in response. "Money, revenge, maybe they were-"

"What about your client?" He cut me off and looked right into my eyes.

I gave him a slow blink, then shrugged. "What about her? I took the job, but I didn't keep my eyes on her specifically. I followed up on her contacts like I do anyone I take a job like this from, but I can't rule her out."

"Going to charge her the full time since you 'technically' found her fawn?" He quirked a brow.

I clenched my teeth and felt a growl bubble up in my throat. "You trying to goad me again, James?"

"Asking a serious question, Isaac. When does the job end and it becomes personal? You've been in your field for a few years now, is this your first time finding a body?"

"No. I've had missing persons I looked for and found before, usually suicides though, and the signs were already pointing that way, so I was prepared. This was the first time I'd seen a murder though, to say nothing of it being a kit."

"Well, I've been in homicide for over ten years, all I can tell you is, don't trust any of them. You can't be sure what someone's values are, and even a mother would do her kit in if the motivation was proper."

"You have such a sunny outlook on life," I snarled and lowered my ears.

"Right back at you, big guy. Your eyes aren't quite as dead, but they're getting there," He growled the words and rose up fully as if to emphasize the 'big guy' jab, and looked down at me.

I looked away and shoved my paws into my duster, snarling as I processed things. He was right of course. The divorce alone rattled me to my core and darkened my outlook, then losing Hazel just brought everything down. I went through the motions, I did my job for the sake of having something to do, anything to keep from sitting there thinking about her. It's probably why I agreed to this nonsense to begin with.

"What are you playing at, James? Even a beat cop probably would serve you better as a partner than I would. Do you have some agenda with me I'm not aware of?" I quirked a brow and just laid it out.

"No, but I've known a few P.I's in my time, Isaac, and most of you can give me that insight without the taint of normality that it becomes from being your day job. I can do the heavy lifting, you just be my Watson as it were." He showed me a haughty grin as he shrugged.

"I'm not going to ask you questions just so you can go on expose's of how you deduced things for your own ego. This isn't some mystery novel where the reader needs to hear the who's and what's of who done it."

"Then I'll be counting on you to do your best and pull your weight. Let's go." The smoke-furred wolf pushed from the desk towards the door.

"Go where?" I asked both curiously and skeptically.

"Why, that doe in question should be here any minute now. We called her to come down to answer some questions," The detective hummed the words out, looking at the watch on his wrist, having to pull the baggy sleeve of the blazer away to look upon it.