Black Holes

  “I must say, you look like hell,” Mayor Sanec Barker commented warmly, welcoming Vulpecula into his office. 

   “I talked to the doctors,” Vulpecula began, leaving a small pause in-between his words for Sanec to fathom their severity, “They said that Psitticus lost a lot of blood, that he’d be off-duty for a couple of weeks, but he’ll live.” 

   Sanec Barker’s stare held where Vulpecula had anticipated a change in emotion. Although Vulpecula thought he had developed a rapport with Psitticus, that would only serve as a small drop in the bucket compared to how much time Barker had spent with him. And yet, his emotion didn’t change at all whatsoever. Was Sanec so hardened by Urgway that nothing phased him any more or did “bird brains” truly mean that little to him?  

   The days had been rough for Vulpecula since the attack on Detective Psitticus. Blaming oneself for the murder of their bird friend did that to a person, it seemed. Farley Henan remained at-large, but, considering the manhunt ordered by Rescue and law enforcement, it would only be a matter of time until he was brought in. Rescue regarded his attacks as grisly disregard for animal life, but conveniently made no connection to the Canis Major murders that inspired them. Vulpecula wasn’t surprised, but that hadn’t kept him from disappointment. He and Vivian Herms would always be on opposite sides as far as priorities were concerned. 

   “As far as our next order of business is concerned, it’s time we talk about Logan Norms. I told you I’d follow up on him and I’m always a man of my word. I think you’re onto something, that this journalist has shadier secrets than any of his tabloids could ever exaggerate on,” Mayor Barker explained. 

   From one murderer to the next, it seemed. This was the life Vulpecula had signed up for, he supposed. “What should we do about Logan Norms then? How do you think we should move forward?” 

   “Not you, me. I tested the waters to see how you’d handle a higher-stakes investigation with Detective Psitticus and, …,” Sanec stopped amid his thought, but the message was received, nonetheless. “I do want you to be around, however. Hence why I’ve lined up a local case for you to look at. I’ll have my secretary fetch the report I’ve written up about it. I’m a busy man, however, which means I’ll have to be off then. Don’t touch my pens.” 

   With that, Urgway’s mayor turned from Vulpecula and went on his way. Vulpecula sighed, hopefully this would be a case where he’d be able to refrain from screwing everything up. 

   “Oh, and also,” Vulpecula began, watching as Sanec Barker turned back to him, “My friend Apus contacted me a few days ago and asked if I would be able to visit Acera for The Giving this year. I hope that won’t meddle with any of the plans you may have for me.” 

   For only a second, Vulpecula could have sworn he saw a wrinkle in Sanec’s disposition. It could have been his imagination and it went away too fast for him to be for certain, but the reaction was about what Vulpecula had anticipated when Sanec found out Detective Psitticus might not make it. Coolly, however, Sanec Barker waved him off, adjusting his collar for a brief moment, “Enjoy the holidays, but make certain to stick around until this Logan Norms business has been taken care of.” 

   “Thank you,” Vulpecula replied, watching while Sanec disappeared behind the closing elevator doors.  

2. 

   The Shock had become the stuff of legends since publications starting officially acknowledging its existence, becoming a cultural phenomenon on social-media, particularly when it came to their privatized web browser. The online community had a field day with it; theorizing over secret organizations and drug cartels. They unboxed packages they would allege came from Shock sites, but their hidden agenda of gathering views and catching the zeitgeist was blatant. Nevertheless, The Shock was a truly curious unknown, found in a world where unknowns were in short supply. It was no wonder that the young Sammi Khatri had taken an interest in the cyber world’s biggest open-secret. 

   It was unfortunate when Sammi Khatri was reported missing by her fathers only a couple of days ago, however. 

   “You believe Sammi was abducted by someone on the internet?” Vulpecula asked, standing over at the coffee table in-front of the television. 

   Two men, Sammi’s fathers, both cats of different shades, one gray and one black and white with specks of dulled gold, stared back at him. The gray cat had to fight back whimpers the best he could, which wasn’t well, whereas the other had a reserved intensity, like his eyes weren’t bloodshot from crying but because he hadn’t blinked since his daughter’s absence. This man did the talking among them, “Are you familiar with The Shock? Everyday you find a new missing person’s case on the internet. I can’t imagine what our taxpayers would think if they knew the amount of children fall through the cracks of Urgway’s sour excuse for law enforcement. I don’t know what the world’s coming to nowadays, really!” 

   Vulpecula stayed quiet. In truth, despite the crime-rate plaguing Urgway, it averaged around the same missing person’s cases per year as anywhere else in Maharris. The internet shouting factory of social-media had created its own phenomenon from The Shock’s surge in popularity – fearmongering. So few animals checked and verified every Missing Person’s photo they shared in each other’s feed, cycling back the same rotation everyday oblivious to whether that person had been found or not. The Shock had been their main-source of phobia. As what everyone feared most was something they couldn’t make sense out of. Stories of child-trafficking and people loaded up in black boxes dragged across the Whispey Desert, all of it was absent any credible evidence. 

   The man wouldn’t have cared to hear Vulpecula’s corrections or attempts at reassurances, however, that much was obvious to him. At the moment, the man needed a punching-bag to pound his frustration into, and Vulpecula wouldn’t take that from him. 

   “I can tell you care very much about your daughter, the both of you, and I’ll do everything I can to help you. Tell me, did your daughter say anything prior to her disappearance, an enemy she might’ve made, or something that might’ve been bothering her?” 

   “No one at school would do anything to our baby,” the more visibly upset of the two fired back, sounding offended by the assertion. 

   Vulpecula said nothing again. In his head, he thought about Nicholas’ classmates setting him aflame and the meanness behind their eyes as they recalled the whole altercation like reminiscing a coveted memory. 

   “She didn’t have any enemies at school that we’re aware of,’” the taxpayer one said. Vulpecula knew his name to be Jerry. “The only straw we’re grasping to is the website she had loaded on her computer after she disappeared.” 

   “Show me it,” Vulpecula responded firmly. 

   “We’ll have to look on her computer, she’s the only one of us with The Shock browser downloaded,” Jerry said, leading Vulpecula upstairs to his daughter’s bedroom. 

   It seemed like a normal enough bedroom, maybe not the prototypical teenage girl’s bedroom, instead, wallpapered with photographs of heavy metal rockers and other masked figures that Vulpecula recognized as the Magnets, a traveling troupe of magicians and stage-performers. Soon, they were at her desk, a small, wooden black stand holding a gaming computer with a bright-green computer down and a monitor that curved inward. If nothing else, judging by the tech, it seemed more likely now that Sammi Khatri might have known her way around The Shock’s browser.  

   On the screen was a shirtless albino monkey carrying a small camera. It was an old-fashioned, instant camera, with a photograph hanging off of it. The face of the photograph faced the monkey and couldn’t be seen by them. The monkey stood behind a black background and had his tongue sticking out. 

   “Nothing happens when you refresh it,” one of the men whimpered. His name was Blake. 

   “Seems innocuous,” Vulpecula commented, looking over to them, “What am I missing?” 

   “Sammi was always curious. She never took anything serious, and she’d always berate how overblown The Shock and dark web nonsense was. It was all smoke and mirrors, she said, and we didn’t know enough about it then to really argue. Then, she comes by, and she says she has found a website that actually spooked her. She told us about a website, … this website. There’s a feature on The Shock browser where it will send you to an entirely off-the-grid website. She said that you could click it a million-times and, at worst, you might find an adult site or something like that. She said this time, her millionth and one time, she clicked it. This time she sees this monkey and it takes a photograph of her, like it hacked into her webcam, and then, for a flash, it showed our home-address and in big, white letters, told her she needed to run.” 

   Vulpecula stared back at the albino monkey sticking his tongue out at them. Did he have something to do with Sammi Khatri’s disappearance? It seemed far-fetched, but it was about the best lead he could think of. The website’s address was not conventional nor were any website addresses used on The Shock. Instead of a name, said website could only be found with a long strand of numbers. Vulpecula scratched them onto the blank chalkboard in his head for safe keeping. 

   “I’ll look into the website. I also want to conduct interviews with Sammi’s closest friends and her teachers, if you could write up a list of names.” Vulpecula held a firm demeanor as the words escaped his lips. He’d had enough experience on the force to not make any promises or instill anything other than the bare essentials. It was a stoic demeanor that was, in his own way, his best impersonation of Sanec Barker. 

   Blake’s face twisted and his eyes squinted as though he was thinking about saying something, but he seemed to have thought better of it. Vulpecula knew what was happening in his head, however. He was wondering why the white fox wasn’t doing anything immediate to find his daughter. His emotions were too riled to understand the necessity of such procedures, but it seemed Jerry had kept himself calm enough to see that it’d be a process finding Sammi.  

   “We’ll prepare you a list of contacts. Anything we can do that leads to finding our daughter, that’s something we’ll do.” 

   “Thank you,” Vulpecula replied.  

3. 

   In a world of little absolutes, Vulpecula found a complete truth – his absolute disdain for missing person cases. They were his nemesis, it seemed. Sammi Khatri’s disappearance couldn’t help but bring to mind a case he solved in Acera involving a woman named Molly Louise. The case was unique because she hadn’t been kidnapped. Instead, she had deliberately disappeared during a stage-performance and went missing as a way of impressing the Magnets. The photographs Sammi had plastered on her wall honoring the traveling troupe made him uneasy. What were the chances Sammi had went through all of this trouble to impress the traveling troupe in Acera? 

   It was an easy thought to dismiss. Vulpecula hadn’t known what to look for with Molly Louise, but, had he, he’d have known more about her eccentric, reckless personality and how obsessed she was with gaining membership into the troupe. He would have known that Molly had little value in her family and that her relationship with her boyfriend was on and off again. This wasn’t the case for Sammi, however. Her parents described her as affectionate to them, and described their family as “closely-knit,” a sentiment that may or may not have been echoed by Sammi, albeit. The silver-bullet, however, was a stipulation in the Magnet’s membership that required performers be of a legal age. Regardless, The Fox Detective’s self-doubt made it difficult for him to entirely rule it out. 

   The Fox Detective smiled and exchanged pleasantries with the rest of the officers at the Odin district precinct; men and women he hadn’t ever met prior. It was unlikely they were used to sharing their station with outsiders, but he at least didn’t feel the glare of each officer beamed at him. Still, they must have wondered why the Mayor of Urgway deemed them incapable of handling a missing children’s case. If only they knew it was because Sanec Barker thought Vulpecula needed training wheels and to be at arm’s length. Considering Vulpecula’s recent failures, he wasn’t in any position to argue either.  

   The young women in-front of him were classmates of Sammi Khatri: Reba and Jessica. Reba, a dog, had long-brown fur and had sunglasses propped over the top of her head, and Jessica, a frog, wore a light-blue dress with a design that reminded him of the ocean. 

   “I’m happy that you’ve both agreed to help us in our investigation. I have no doubt the day off from school isn’t too bad,” Vulpecula said, feeling like he’d delivered a poor man’s dad joke. In truth, he was interested in their response. If they laughed (and who wouldn’t?), what did that say about their state of mind? Were they worried about Sammi or did they have reason not to? Of all missing person’s cases, most are proven as either runaways or having benign explanations. If Reba and Jessica knew Sammi ran away, would they share that information? They did not laugh. “I have no doubt the disappearance of Miss Sammi Khatri has bothered each of you. I understand that you were friends with her?” 

    They both nodded. Reba, perhaps the more sociable of the two, actually spoke: “I’d say we’re all best friends.” 

   “Did she say anything to you, maybe, about her home life or, maybe, that something or something might have been bothering her in someway?” Vulpecula asked, trying not to assert any of his own theorizing into their heads. 

   “As far as she ever let on, she and her parents got along really well, and nobody at school every messed with her,” Reba answered.  

   “No one ever messed with her?” Vulpecula repeated Reba’s words, finding them a peculiar choice. 

   “A lot of high school drama, but not with Sammi. She doesn’t take anything from no one,” Reba answered, adding a certain inflection to her voice that made Vulpecula believe it was her regular speaking voice breaking through the seams. It was unfortunate her regular speaking voice was so negative. 

   Vulpecula smiled, “Well, okay then. So, no one you can think of had a grudge against Sammi?” 

   “Maybe Randy,” Jessica remarked, breaking her silence. 

   Reba shot Jessica a look that made it seem like Jessica had said a dirty word. 

   “I take it that Randy isn’t a friend of yours?” Vulpecula said. 

   “Putting it lightly,” Reba fired back, sounding offended by the idea. 

   “Is he a friend of Sammi’s?”  

   Jessica chewed on the question for a moment, which, in Vulpecula’s assessment, meant the answer fell somewhere in the middle. 

   “Randy’s her ex-boyfriend, but that was before he became baby-daddy to some chick from outta town. I can’t even with him.” 

   Vulpecula sighed. As far as Sammi’s disappearance was concerned, it sounded like Vulpecula couldn’t even with Randy either. A soon-to-be father already had too many mouths to feed to start kidnapping ex-girlfriends. As the thought entered V’s head, he felt guilt. What had Urgway done to his sense of humor? Like the Magnet poster on Sammi’s bedroom wall, it appeared this would be another loose end as far as finding Sammi was concerned.  

   “Can you tell me any reason why Randy might have been involved in Sammi’s disappearance?”  Vulpecula asked. 

   “Oh no, I don’t think he’d do something like, too busy trying to get inside every girl’s pants across Maharris,” Jessica fired back. 

   Like the Magnet poster on Sammi’s bedroom wall, it appeared this would be another dead end as far as finding Sammi was concerned. 

   After asking each of the girls a few more procedural, routine questions about Sammi, Vulpecula thanked them each for their time and sent them on their way. The topics pertained to things such as her known hobbies and interests, and other individuals they might have thought worth talking to. Teenagers were a simple bunch on the surface. They were attracted to like minded individuals, as most are, but they’re often archetypal in their interests and outside behaviors. It was a cliché for a reason, Vulpecula supposed. Jocks and cheerleaders were often more sociable and sports-oriented, whereas nerds etched out a small social-circle as well for themselves.  

   Sammi Khatri didn’t have a criminal-record, whereas her friend Jessica had been popped twice for possession of alcohol. Jessica, the lucky girl, having been in possession of alcohol, didn’t concern The Fox Detective, as the bright computer screen flashed her small database file in-front of him. Sammi’s bedroom had posters of “rebellious musicians,” and the portrait created by her teachers described a “bad girl,” all terms that came off condescending and dismissive. To Vulpecula, Sammi appeared like a normal young girl trying to find her place in the world wherever she could. He could understand that. After all, he still hadn’t found his. Teenagers were a simple bunch on the surface, but their complexities and distinctions were often buried between the cracks of their social-groups and relationships. All the signs suggested that Sammi was a young-girl on the run, which would make it less about detective work and more about time and public participation (missing person posters, etc.) when it came to finding her whereabouts. 

   Vulpecula reflected over the website Sammi had visited. The Shock’s website database was filled with uncharted domains, Vulpecula only hoped the Odin Police Department wouldn’t mind him downloading the uncontroversial software onto one of their computers. Once downloaded, he typed away the collection of numbers that he’d seen on the address bar of Sammi’s computer, and clicked enter. The website loaded up the same way it had in Sammi’s bedroom. Only, this time, he was able to see the full-animation. The albino monkey snapped a photograph; a real photograph, actually. The website had bypassed all restrictions and procured access to the computer’s webcam. The photograph that fell from the screen’s digital camera was a photograph of Vulpecula staring back at himself. The photograph eventually fell over, falling away from view just as it had on Sammi’s computer. 

   Vulpecula held out his cellphone and dialed in the number of the only person he knew that might be able to help him with his current conundrum. He imagined the person wouldn’t be especially thrilled to speak to him, especially about things pertaining his line of work. As the phone rang, the Fox Detective began fidgeting with the keys on the computer’s keyboard, yanking one off with his claws and twirling it around in his hands. 

   “Hello?” 
   “Hey, Lacerta, it’s V, I was wondering if you could help me with a case I’ve been working on. It involves a website that uses The Shock website browser and I was hoping I could have someone a little more savvy take a look at it,” Vulpecula explained.  

   “Looks like I’ll need to update my malware protector then,” Lacerta jested dryly. “If you send me the address, I can take a look at it. Before I forget, Apus wants to know if you want him to cook anything in-particular for The Giving next week?” 

   Vulpecula caught onto Lacerta’s mentioning of the holiday. He doubted Apus asked anything of the sort, instead, it was more about seeing if Vulpecula would try to flake on the festivity, a thought that had admittedly crossed his mind. “Tell Apus that if he whips up some watergate salad, I’ll be a more than happy fox. The young girl’s family seems convinced that her disappearance is linked to the dark web, and that the website was involved in that. When I go to the website, it seems to hack into the computer’s webcam and snap a photograph. Not only that, but it’s able to see the computer’s I.P. address.” 

   “Spooky stuff,” Lacerta said. “Bypassing The Shock’s software’s virtual private network like that more-or-less compromises the entire dark web altogether. Guess I’ll rig up my own address scrambler and try out a new device to keep my webcam from being hacked into.” 

   “What new device is that?” 

   “Black tape.” 

   Vulpecula smirked. For only a moment, it felt like things hadn’t changed. There was silence on both ends for a short moment. 

   “So, how have you been, V?” 

   A shiver traveled up Vulpecula’s spine as the words escaped Lacerta’s lips. How had he been doing? How had he been doing, really?  

   “I’ll send you the address. I’d love to stay and talk more, but I really need to followup on some of my leads. Everyone’s really worried about this missing girl,” he explained. 

   “I’ll let you know if I find anything. 

   As they exchanged goodbyes, Vulpecula brought the cellphone away from his ear and watched as the call ended. Why did he talk more with Lacerta? His excuse was completely false! His only lead was that website! Maybe it’s because he wasn’t really doing anything any more. He’d insulated all his insides, the same way he’d watched Sanec Barker do, embracing the cold of Urgway the best he could. The ghosts that followed him hadn’t went away, but he was becoming number to their embrace. He stood to save more lives that way, after all.  

4. 

   “I downloaded The Shock browser and looked at the website you messaged me. The layout is very minimalist, but there’s a lot more happening behind the scenes when it comes to encrypted code. Everyone has this idea that The Shock’s about heavy-duty security, right? That it’s liberating the internet, or something like that. Well, it might keep your internet safe from the government or Rescue, or whoever, but this website’s code suggests that someone, maybe The Shock’s creators or a third-party, has found a way to exploit The Shock’s liberties and gather a lot more data than any regular website on the web’s surface level,” Lacerta explained.  

   “So, you’re saying you believe that Sammi Khatri was kidnapped by either The Shock or a third-party of some kind?” Vulpecula asked, trying to make sense out of the tangled web that was, ahem, the web. 

   “I can’t imagine why. It’s not difficult to find someone’s address if you want it. Go outside, look around, you’ll find a teenage-girl exactly like Sammi, and they’ll be a lot easier to kidnap than going out of your way would ever be. There’s no reason for it.” 

   “Either they had reason to think she mattered, or The Shock website’s a total dead-end,” Vulpecula said. 

   “It seems that way,” Lacerta said, but, then, added: “There’s something else I noticed as well. The website has text in the background.” 

   “I didn’t see anything,” Vulpecula responded, not calling Lacerta a liar, but reflecting over the web-page aloud. 

   “You wouldn’t have. The text was a dark-gray color, nearly the exact same color as the solid black background. The only ones who’d see it were the ones who knew it was there or thought to look. The text is a string of numbers, but it doesn’t lead to another Shock website. Instead, I discovered that it’s coordinates set somewhere in Acera,” Lacerta explained. 

   Vulpecula felt a warmth in his chest. He remembered the last time he’d followed coordinates embedded on The Shock’s website. They led him to Akil and Ajou. Unfortunately, they weren’t the perpetrators this time around. They were behind bars in the (insert name here); the same prison where Tony Rockwell spent his final days. 

   “I’ll catch the earliest plane-ride out of Urgway I can,” Vulpecula said, “Thanks for your help.” 

* * * 

   “Absolutely not, I need you in Urgway at the moment,” Mayor Barker said. “The entire point of your assignment was to have you in the neighborhood encase things became dicey.” 

   “You’re the mayor of Urgway, I imagine you could have an entire squad around your parameter around the clock if you wanted.” 

   “I could, but that wouldn’t be very inconspicuous, would it? Need I remind you that I’m following up on your theory? We will have an officer in Acera followup on the coordinates you’ve uncovered, if it turns up being something, I’ll make for certain you receive credit,” Barker decreed. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to run some errands. I’ll contact you again as soon as it’s convenient.” 

   Like that, Vulpecula’s intentions had been put to bed, delegated to someone else by the shrug of Sanec’s shoulders. Maybe he was right. Maybe Vulpecula needed to learn to pull back from investigations, not only could an officer in Acera find the location faster, but that meant a better likelihood of finding the victim, safe and sound. He sighed. He needed to let this one go. On the other-hand though, perhaps the case’s sensitivity required better discretion. 

   “Lacerta?” Vulpecula said, as he heard his lizard-friend’s breathing on the other-end, “You’re not too busy, are you?” 

5. 

   In-general, The Fox Detective had always found it difficult to sit around and gestate. Patience wasn’t his strong suit. This truth especially applied when waiting was all he could do. Vulpecula flashed a smile to the prison-guard, a burly bear by the name of Ricardo, who didn’t return the favor to him. As he was led to the high-security prison’s interrogation room, he met eyes with one of two cat duo, Akil, if he wasn’t mistaken. Akil’s face had a sudden change to amusement as Vulpecula walked into the room. Ajou sat by him as well, both shackled to their chairs and handcuffed. 

   “I knew it was only a matter of time until you came to visit. You’re our best friend this side of Maharris, after all,” Akil commented, offering a playful cadence that Vulpecula wouldn’t return. 

   “I see you guys weren’t able to leave like you wanted. Apologies,” Vulpecula said dryly, looking behind him as Ricardo left them. 

   “It’s a minor setback, at best,” Ajou responded, “Now, to what do we owe the pleasure?” 

   “I know so little about you. I know so little about The Shock and everything happening behind the scenes,” Vulpecula explained. 

   “The understatement of the year, my friend,” Ajou said. 

   “Enlighten me then. What do I not know? What do you know that has you so ready to take the nearest boat to Olzaric?” 

   “Every child brought into this world is brought in without a choice, you ever considered that? They’re brought into this world, told the formal way to dress and what’s polite to say and what isn’t, and are raised as the best imitation of what society wants for them. It isn’t merely what we know that has us trying to escape, it’s what we’ve learned. Not merely what’s happening, but what’s inevitable and eventual,” Ajou said. 

   As enlightened as he tried to come off, Vulpecula wasn’t buying it, the cat knew the fox needed something from him and would toy with him in-response. Vulpecula felt his cellphone vibrate in his back pocket, but chose to ignore it. 

   “A young girl is missing, the only lead we have is a website that uses The Shock website browser, a colleague of mine is on his way to coordinates that were found hidden on the website background. It’d be nice and helpful if you could tell us what we might expect to find and any useful information you may have on the culprit,” Vulpecula said in a frank, matter-of-fact manner. 

   “Nice … and helpful? That’s an awful lot to ask for, little fox.” Akil answered, sounding snarky and uncooperative. “Do you have any idea how many websites use The Shock browser? Do you have any idea how many of them are hoaxes? Most of them. The girl did it for attention. She’ll come back, say she ran into a group on the dark web, and she’ll be famous on the internet for a little while.” 

    “The website has an albino monkey on the front of the screen,” Vulpecula continued, and, as he did, he saw Ajou’s smile leave him. “What is it?” 

   “I’m assuming you said colleague and not officer because you involved one of your friends, be it the bird or the lizard. You need to call them back and you need to do it now.” Ajou fired back. His voice was stern and serious. “If you don’t, consider them dead.” 

   “He isn’t kidding with you,” Akil added. “Call them.” 

   Vulpecula obliged, feeling the fear begin to surface up to the top of his chest. He took out his cellphone and dialed Lacerta’s number the same way he’d done several times over the last couple of days. 

   “There’s nothing here,” Lacerta said, before Vulpecula had the chance to say a word. It’s an empty warehouse. No one, nobody, no how,” he rambled on. 

   Vulpecula brought the phone away from his face and looked over to Akil and Ajou, “Who are they?” 

   “Inevitable and eventual,” Akil responded. “But, if your lizard-friend is able to make a phone-call, then, they know someone was on their tail and left. You’re friend’s lucky.” 

   Vulpecula breathing eased, “Don’t stay there any longer than you need to, Lacerta.” He tried his best to hide how much danger Lacerta might have been in, but had no doubts it slipped out in his voice. “I’ll see you soon.” 

6. 

   It wasn’t a satisfying end, but that came with the territory, Vulpecula supposed. The Khatri family was left without answers to their daughter’s disappearance. The Fox Detective made no attempt to suggest reason for optimism. Akil and Ajou remained tight-lipped about whoever operated The Shock website, maybe because they too weren’t entirely for certain on the answer. Or, maybe because they were afraid. 

   Vulpecula thought back to the early-days, the simpler ones with stolen swords and sober nights. He remembered when Lacerta first started the website, used as a promotional tool for their services. Lacerta was always good at the technical stuff. Vulpecula remembered him saying something in passing about the mysterious e-mail black hole. Over ninety-nine percent of every e-mails sent arrive to the intended recipient, but a small, tiny fraction doesn’t. They are lost and even the smartest of them can’t say with a certainty were they’re sent off to. It’s that unknown that worries everyone the most. There’s no finality or resolution, no chance to heal because the knife doesn’t feel like it has been removed. That’s what the Khatri family will have to cope with. Their daughter was lost, and, at least for now, no one knows where and they may not ever. 

   Vulpecula left their home with little sense of accomplishment, little of anything, for that matter. If nothing else, he was grateful Lacerta wasn’t thrown into harm’s way. With Psitticus still hospitalized for his ignorance, he didn’t know if he could take another hit like that. His phone vibrated again, The Fox Detective sighed, removing the cellphone from his back pocket, “Hello?” 

   It was silent on the other-end for a brief moment until a voice answered him, “Hello, Vulpecula. My name is Logan Norms, and I believe I have something that belongs to you.” 

   Vulpecula blood ran cold. He tried to find the words to speak, but lost them before he could say them aloud. His throat felt too dry to speak. 

   “Vulpecula, this is Sanec Barker. Don’t listen to anything he, …,” a loud grunt followed like Sanec had been struck. 

   “I have things I would like to discuss with you,” Logan Norms said.