Election Day

The polls opened at 8 am. Thousands of heads dotted the voting lines already. By 8 pm, the lines would dwindle to naught and the polls would close. It was then that Barker would either win, bringing back the Canes for good. Or he would lose, and Mr. Ember would deconstruct everything he had built. 

Barker eyed the slow-moving procession. He knew every terminal in every district. He knew the options on each voting sheet. He knew intimately the polling numbers. Barker let his eyes waver from the voters to the protection around the lines. For every animal that was not a canine, he had placed a canine officer nearby. The city was jam-packed with canines by now. Each canine was loyal to Barker as their head Detective. That was not to say every canine wanted or would qualify to be part of the Canes rendition. 

Barker was counting on a close race for the title of mayor. It would not have been so close, but Barker had thrown a cog into the wheel about four months prior. He had outwitted the entire city, including Detective Vulpecula. He had orchestrated a bust for the Water Lily, putting it back into the hands of the church. With that, he had received thousands of letters of praise for his ethical work. The mobs that had lined the streets, dispersed back into the church walls. With all the attention on the Water Lily, Barker was free to dig in his feet. 

Without the Water Lily, Mr. Ember would have easily become the sitting mayor of Urgway. He would have fired Barker on the spot. Barker was not sure if Ember would even allow him to reassume his job down in the Marybeth district. Although, that spot had now sat vacant for many months. Vulpecula having gone back to Acera to try to regain some semblance of life; Barker almost missed him. Maybe when this was all over, he would pay him a courtesy visit. 

Barker could not think of those frivolous things now, however. Just because the Water Lily was back, and people had praised him for his deed, did not mean he was a shoo-in for the title. There were still many who hated the idea of a canine running anything. There was still the underlying fear and hate that came with the title of canine. 

Barker scanned back to the growing crowd. Barker had declared the day a city holiday. Any non-essential operations had been shut down for the day. Any sub-sections that were forced to stay open were ordered to allow each voting aged citizen at least a two-hour window to vote. That had been a scam, but it had gained him a lot of praise from city workers, government workers, and medical workers alike. Barker knew he could use each and every one of their votes. 

Barker wondered if Tiam, the former priest, was down there rallying. He had thought the man a liability, a plague, but Tiam had stood behind the microphones and praised Vulpecula for his hard work and dedication. By extension, Barker was being touted as the savior of Rescue’s founders’ only son. Barker had known Vulpecula would be alive and well inside that shed. He had, after all, been the one who had laid out the details. What Barker had not expected, was for Vulpecula to drop his position at the Marybeth police department. That had not been an actual cog in the wheels, but Barker did find himself sad about it. For some odd reason, he felt that Vulpecula may have been the only competent detective left in the city of Urgway. That both frightened and excited him. 

Barker drummed his fingers against the glass window. There were thousands of people and there would have been no way to really interact or tell how things were going. Sure, there would be polls on the television. Talking heads would be scheming on how to get the election total before the election was complete. However, none of that kept Barker up-to-date in the real time. Barker had to set up something else altogether for that information. 

Barker had made sure there was no paper ballots left across the city. Paper ballots were difficult to manipulate. Sure, you could pay the counters to forge a few here and there. You could pay the carriers to lose a bucket of votes on the way to the counters, but it was all so messy. There were so many working pieces and that was how people got caught. 

Barker had another ace up his sleeve. If the polls did not want to sing to him, he would make them sing. 

“Buntly,” Barker turned, looking at the former leader of The Shock. Vulpecula had been right about many things during his assessment of the Rockwell and Water Lily cases. He had been right about so much that it made Barker nervous. One thing to add to the pile of correct answers from Vulpecula was that The Shock was still very much alive and well, just under new name and management. 

The dog looked up from the monitor he’d been watching. “What can I do for you, sir?” he asked. 

Barker had come to know Buntly quite well since taking down his operations. He knew that Buntly had only one goal in life and that was to be filthy rich. He was fine without the power. He did not need the name recognition. What he fully wanted was to be able to do as he pleased with all the money he could handle. 

“How many have to vote before we can start the stats?” Barker asked. 

Buntly reached for a small device on his hip. Barker thought it looked like a small hand-held tablet. Buntly punched some keys, but Barker was not aware what Buntly was doing. 

“So far, over six hundred people have voted in the building you are staring at,” Buntly said. 

“And?” Barker pressed. 

Buntly hit a few more keys and then looked at Barker, “we knew this district was not our biggest hope,” he said. 

Barker let out a big sigh. Buntly was right, he did know that it was unlikely he would win in Ember’s home district, but it still riled his feathers. 

“Can we fix that?” Barker asked. 

Buntly shrugged his shoulders, “we agreed that the fixing would occur once we had a better scope of things. No need to fix six hundred votes,” he said. 

Barker knew he was right, but it did not make him feel any better. He turned back toward the window. He had saved this city. He had brought tourism back to the forefront, the streets were safer than ever before, and yet they still scoffed at him because of his lineage. 

“But when the time comes?” Barker had asked the question already. He knew that Buntly had promised him. 

“I have rigged each terminal to be equipped with an override function. We can shut down terminals, switch votes, or just delete votes accordingly. No one from the city will be watching them that closely. No one believes anyone could hack the terminals. They are not connected to a network and so, most people believe it impossible, we will be fine,” Buntly said. 

Barker believed him. If Buntly was willing to bet his fortune on it, then there was nothing that Barker had to worry about. Still, he felt uneasy about the day. He would have to sit around for twelve hours; at least, pondering on the outcome of an election he would win no matter what. 

Still, it bothered him that others would choose Mr. Ember over him. Ember had been nothing but a life-long puppet for the former mayor. Intimidation had put Ember in a corner and as soon as the fear was gone, he was out gallivanting in the streets, trying to take the job. 

Barker turned from the window again. There was one other person in the room with Buntly and Barker. Her name was Gabby Rhodes. Barker had found her at a car rental operation. The operation just so happened to be the front for her real enterprise, money laundering. Barker had taken Gabby into his confidence and they were doing well together. 

“If I win tonight,” Barker started. 

Buntly interrupted him, “you mean when you win tonight,” he laughed. 

Barker nodded, “when I win tonight,” he corrected. 

Gabby looked up from her papers. She was always scheming for new avenues, even at a time like this. 

“I need you to be closer to me,” Barker said. 

Gabby nodded. Barker had been hounding her on this for the better part of the week. He wanted Gabby to leave her dealership and come work as an accountant. He had even offered a great replacement for her current position, where she could be a silent partner in the workings. Gabby was hesitant to leave her comfort zone. Barker could understand. She was a self-made individual and she did not want to give up all that she had earned on her own. However, she also did not want to give up the heavy flow of money that came with Barker’s dealings. 

“It is not that I do not appreciate the offer,” Gabby hesitated a moment, “can I give you the answer later today?” she asked. 

Barker would not pressure her on it. He knew she would end up coming to the correct conclusion. She loved her hole in the wall, but she would not give up all that they had accomplished together. 

“Why don’t we all have a drink,” Barker opened the cabinet and pulled out a small decanter. It had been left over from the previous mayor, but now he figured everything in this office was fair game; since, soon it would all be his. 

Gabby and Buntly took the offered glass of brown whiskey. Barker was not a drinker, and so, he only splashed a small amount into his own glass. He lifted it up into the air, just slightly above his head. Then, he pronounced a toast, “this drink is to our long and prosperous relationship,” he said. 

All three drank off their cups. Barker filled them again, still his with only a splash of the liquid. Buntly stood this time and held the glass above his head, “here is to the new mayor of Urgway, may his reign be until the end of his days,” they clinked the glasses together, repeating the end of the toast. 

Barker did not refill the glasses a third time. They were expected downstairs in the party room. At least, Barker was expected there. Barker would introduce the crowd to Gabby and Buntly and then let them be introduced into proper society. It would be good for the growing crowd to know who his associates were. Scandals only occurred if you gave the people something to whisper about. If Barker gave them the facts, most of the facts, then there would be no reason to create their own rumors. 

“Gather up your things,” Barker said, putting the decanter back into the shelf. There would be plenty of time for toasts and celebration later that evening. 

Gabby shuffled her papers into a pile and Buntly flipped the television off. 

“It is high time that I introduced you both to the life of politics,” he laughed. 

Buntly and Gabby followed Barker to the elevators. At the bottom, they would be met with a press of rich, unintelligent, and highly connected individuals. These were the people that Barker had to convince first. Then, he would be able to expand his message to the greater population of Urgway. Barker reached up and adjusted his collar in the reflection of the glass paneled elevator. Then, he let a smile creep across his face, reaching out to hit the button for the first floor. 

* * *

Barker’s secretary had become a luxury over his time in the Glass Building of Urgway. At first, it had been a simple relationship of coffee and messages. Barker had liked it that way. Then, the woman started leaving him breakfast, or bringing him lunch during the long afternoons of paper-work and meetings. Barker became accustomed to it. Then, she started to gather his laundry from the dry cleaners, she tidied up his office before he arrived in the morning, she labeled everything Barker could ever need. It was needless to say the older secretary was spoiling Barker. What Barker liked the most about it all, the woman never asked him for a thing in return. She was almost like a ghost. She came in, did his biddings, and then only left the evidence of it behind. Barker came to realize that he would not be able to function on a daily level without her. At one point, Barker even thought about giving her a raise, he decided against it, but most people would agree it is the thought that matters. 

Tonight, Barker sat in an extravagant political ballroom. The secretary had gone all out on everything. There were pictures of Barker shaking the hands of all the important people who had ever visited Urgway. There were streamers sitting on every table for the celebration of victory. There was so much food even the purple rhino from Rescue would have been stuffed full. 

Barker knew that Ember was somewhere in the city just walking into his own party. Ember would have taken to the streets and rallied voters. He would have tried to milk change amongst those in the lines. Barker supposed that was his own way of trying to press the advantage. Barker had Buntly and therefore could sit in the comfort of a warm auditorium. Sure, even Barker had walked out to the steps of the Glass Building and waved to the hundreds standing outside the doors. They had clapped, snapped pictures, and hollered his name. The voters for Ember would be off at his own election office doing the same. 

Barker leaned forward and grabbed a small glass of water, draining it off. A waitress scurried over and grabbed the glass before Barker could put it back down. There were at least twenty of her running around and cleaning up anything people touched. The secretary had surely been a busy woman. 

“Detective Barker?” Barker turned around, seeing The Church of the Water Lily Priest, Molayeth. “Sorry, should I already start addressing you as mayor?” the man smirked. 

Barker was not a fan of Molayeth. By default, he was not a fan of any priest, but something about Molayeth was strange. 

“For now, Detective Barker will be just fine. Don’t want to get ahead of ourselves,” Barker answered. 

“Of course, of course, I just wanted to extend our hope that you do sit in the picture window overlooking the city. I do believe that we, the church, and you can have many years of good change for the city. I also wanted you to know that every member of the church has been instructed to vote with the Water Lily, and that means a vote for its protector, again, it may be premature, but congratulations, Detective Barker,” the man extended his hand. 

Barker hesitated only a moment, nothing that Molayeth would have even noticed and then, grasped the man’s hand in a firm shake. 

“I look forward to talking with you again, very soon,” Molayeth said and then disappeared off into the party. 

Barker shook hundreds of hands throughout the day. He had smiled for photos and even signed a few autographs for adoring fans. It was odd what some people would ask political candidates. Molayeth was probably the one with the most potential to help him, however; even if Barker was less than thrilled to be associated with him. Barker reached up and adjusted his collar, before checking his watch. It was about 5 pm. Another three hours before the polls officially closed for the day. After that, it would be only a brief wait to get most of the votes counted. Barker motioned for another glass of water, waiting was a tiring game. 

* * *

Back four months ago, Barker had set up a case for the Water Lily. He had used Marybeth’s youngest detective to see that plan through to fruition. After, or maybe in the middle of, Vulpecula had left the department. He had cited comfort and friends in Acera as his reasoning and Barker did not pressure him. There would be plenty of time to keep an eye on Vulpecula later. 

The only reason Barker even thought of this today was the invitation he had sent that had been returned to sender. Vulpecula had not even accepted the envelope, or maybe Barker had gotten the wrong address on his leave. There was really no way for him to know for sure, all he could say was that the envelope had come back unopened. 

For some reason, that had concerned Barker. Barker had pressed it from his forefront thoughts, but it roared to life when a letter arrived for Barker by carrier pigeon. The bird waited there, in front of Barker, for a tip, but Barker was not about to tip a person for doing the job they were hired for. Someone was already paying them, and it made no sense to pay them twice. He shooed the bird along. It was dark in the party room of his headquarters and so, he had to strain his eyes to read the note.

Congratulations on becoming mayor. Things in Acera are going great. Sorry, I could not be there. I hope everything is going well. Tell Pssitticus I said hello. 

-V

Barker crumpled up the note. It had the sloppiest handwriting Barker had ever seen, but he could tell it was from that white fox. It was the nerve to ignore his post and then send his own letter. Not to mention, grouping him with old bird brains. Barker wondered if that was Vulpecula’s own attempt at humor. Barker did not toss the letter; he slipped it into his pants pocket, telling himself that he would throw it away later. 

Barker looked out across the crowd of people in the room with him. Not even one of them understood him. Not even one of them knew what he had gone through his entire life. Vulpecula may have known. They may have even become individuals who understood one another. Never friends, Barker did not have time for friends, but like-minded associates, he could see them becoming. Barker laughed at the idea. It must have been the pressures of the day getting to him. He pulled the cuff of his suit back and checked his watch, it was rounding on 7 pm and he figured there would only be about an hour of this nonsense left. Then, he could give his acceptance speech and move on with his life. 

Barker reached up, adjusting his collar. In just a single hour, he would be able to do everything he had ever dreamed of. He would see the dreams of a little Doberman come to life. Barker held back the smile; there would be plenty of time for that later. 

* * *

Barker was in the midst of a boring chat about the streets and infrastructure projects that would need to be handled over the coming year. Everyone wanted a handout of some type. Road crews needed to fix potholes, park crews needed more maintenance, construction companies were bidding on jobs that were likely to never even occur. Barker just absorbed what he thought would ultimately help him. Anything else, he would help to instruct the council. He figured that with Mr. Ember gone, he would have to play nice with the sharply dressed woman of the council. 

Barker tried to figure out any way he could of getting out of this predicament. There had to be a pressing matter somewhere. He checked his watch. He could lie and say he was going to get ready for his speech. He did only have thirty minutes until the polls closed, but there would still be plenty of time after. Every news report was predicting a very close race. Staffers for Mr. Ember and Barker had been on and off the news all day talking up their finer points. Barker did not even know half of the names of his staffers. There was no way they could vouch for his character and yet, they did. 

Barker was about to come up with some lame duck excuse when his phone did ring. It was hard to hear over the commotion of the room, but he felt the buzzing in his pocket. He reached into his pants and looked at the incoming number. He did not recognize it, but it was an opportunity to evade. He gently held up his phone and excused himself from the group. He answered a few steps away, thinking it would be the press trying to get another interview. He would tell them to tune into his victory speech and then hang up. 

When he put the phone to his ear, the voice on the other side was not alive.

“You are receiving a call from Noel Correctional Center. If you accept charges, please press 1.” 

Barker paused a moment, thinking about who would be calling him from prison. There were only two options at the time. Either the former mayor was calling to congratulate him or tell him he knew that Barker had put him there. The other option, the less likely option, was that Tony Rockwell was calling to thank him for bringing back the Water Lily. 

Either way, Barker was intrigued, so he pressed the 1 on his keypad. A few seconds passed, and then, the speaker clicked, and he could hear the sounds of someone breathing. 

“Hello?” Barker said. 

There was a brief silence and then the voice of Tony Rockwell came from the other end of the line, “Good evening, Detective,” said Rockwell. 

Barker thought about hanging up the phone but was interested in what Rockwell had to say. The man was running out of time in that prison. He knew that the DA was pressing for the death penalty for him, but Rockwell had kept tight-lipped so far. 

“What do you want?” Barker asked. 

Rockwell cleared his throat, “I wanted to inform you of something. I have a lot of time to sit and ponder in my little room here. I think about many things. Really, I do not just think about you and what you have done, or what your father had done. I think about sports, cars, and sometimes, even women. There is one thing I can’t ever stop thinking about though and that is the Water Lily and what it means to the world,” Rockwell said. 

Barker figured now that Rockwell had called to thank him for the return and ramble. It must be hard having no one to talk to in a place like that. It would be especially hard for Tony Rockwell, the man who put many of the canine prisoners away for most of their lives. 

“Your thanks are not necessary,” Barker said. 

He figured the conversation would end there. There was no need to keep on with the frivolities of this charade. Rockwell would serve out the rest of his days, be they long or short. Barker would ascend to his throne and all would be well with the world. 

“That is not what I called for, you egotistic…” Rockwell finished the sentence, but Barker had taken the phone from his ear a moment. Rockwell had screamed the words and Barker needed to make sure no one was listening to his phone call. He moved from the more packed room to an isolated corner, away from the prying ears and eyes. 

“What are you calling to prove?” Barker asked. 

Rockwell did not quiet down, “I am calling to tell you that your gig is up. You’re not going to bring back a time of desolation and despair. You will not get the chance to hurt anyone else with your sick, sadistic mind. I am calling Vulpecula in the morning. I will tell him everything about you, about me, about the Water Lily, about it all. You will never be mayor of Urgway. You will be in this cell and if I have to stay here too, that is fine, it is the price we pay! But you will be here, and I will watch you every day as you suffer, wither, and then fade into obscurity!” Rockwell stopped to take a deep breath. 

Barker’s heart was racing. He double-checked his surroundings. Then, he realized he had nothing to say. He could not plead over the phone with Rockwell. He could not threaten him. Already Rockwell had said too much. Barker knew the nature of prison calls, they were all recorded. Barker reached up and adjusted his collar. 

“I believe you have dropped off the deep end. You are forgetting a lot of the story,” Barker said. 

He was trying to make Rockwell remember the deal without saying a word. 

“You already returned the Water Lily, Barker. There is nothing more you can do for me. You said it best, there is nothing left for me to want for. You knew what you were doing when you gave me the coal,” Rockwell laughed, but there was no mirth behind it. 

Barker took a deep breath and then hung up the phone. There was nothing left to say to Tony Rockwell. He slid the phone back into his pocket. He excused himself from the room. It was 7:40 pm, only twenty minutes until the polls closed. They would expect him then, but he had something to do before.

* * *

Buntly shoved finger foods into his mouth from a napkin he had procured off the table. His fingers were already sticky with some sauce. Barker tried to ignore the mess of his computer expert. He reached up, adjusting his own tie and collar. He had very little time left before he would need to be in the waiting room. Buntly would need to be there too, but first Barker needed him for something else. 

“There is something I need you to do,” Barker whispered to Buntly. 

Buntly looked at his fingers and refrained from licking them clean, “votes will be there, Barker,” he said. 

Barker looked around, making sure no one was around to hear them. “That is not what I need at the moment. There is something just as pressing that I need taken care of,” Barker said. 

Buntly crumpled up the napkin and wiped his fingers with it. “What else could be pressing at a time like this? This is supposed to be a grand night,” he said

Barker agreed. It was supposed to be a grand night. There should have been nothing but celebrations and pats on the back. However, Tony Rockwell threw a cog into the machine. 

“An old problem reared its ugly head,” Barker said. 

Buntly’s ears perked up, “which problem would that be?” he asked. 

Barker checked around them again, pretending to adjust his collar and stretch his neck. No one stood within ten feet of them. 

“Tony Rockwell,” Barker said. 

Buntly almost imperceptibly nodded his head. “What could he have done from where he is?” Buntly asked. 

Barker had thought the same. Rockwell had been so quiet. He thought he would silently live out his days and die for the Water Lily. Instead, Rockwell grew cold feet. 

“There is a phone call conversation that I need you to erase for me. Make sure it never happened,” Barker said. 

Buntly looked around the room, “let me see what I can do,” he said. 

Barker knew that Buntly would make short work of it. 

“When you are done, I will meet you in the waiting room. Let’s make sure nothing else unexpected happens tonight,” Barker said. 

Buntly nodded again and then moved off toward the exit. Barker had full faith in Buntly. He would erase the conversation and then, he would make sure Barker was the new mayor of Urgway. Barker let out a deep sigh. There seemed to be another problem around every bend, but he would solve them all. Barker knew that to be on top he would have to always stay on his toes. 

* * *

Polls were closing and the news talking heads were giving their predictions. The districts calling for Ember were outweighing those calling for Barker. Barker would have felt nervous, but he had not heard the final tallies for Marybeth on any of the news stations. There had been reported problems with the electronic poll machines, but they were back up and running and the results should be pouring in at any moment. 

Barker could tell that his party was getting nervous, but he kept a smile stretched across his face. Buntly had assured him that their plan would work. Even if Mr. Ember won, he would end up losing. There would be a victory speech in this room, one way or the other. 

By 9 pm, all the districts were giving their numbers to the talking heads. Barker was down by just a little under two thousand votes. Still, Marybeth had not reported a single number. Everyone in the room was starting to feel the hopelessness of the situation. Barker looked to the doors, waiting on Buntly to enter. He was trying not to get down on the plan, but it was taking much longer than they had talked about. 

At 9:15 pm, Barker had pulled to within eight hundred votes. No station was yet calling the race, but over 98% of the votes had been tallied. All they were waiting for was Marybeth. Barker looked to the door again, Buntly had not yet returned from erasing the call with Rockwell. 

Barker reached up and adjusted his collar. Everyone in the room was leaving him alone. That would have been great, except it meant that everyone was losing faith that he could win this thing. He wondered how many of the people in this room were already planning their calls to Ember. 

9:30 came and went and Buntly finally entered through the side doors. He gave Barker a thumbs up and then checked the electronic device at his hip. His fingers swiped a few buttons and then, he sat down in a chair on the far side of the room. Barker did not rush him. He could ask Buntly the result of Rockwell’s call later. Right now, he had other pressing matters. 

By 9:45 pm, the new stations were reporting the numbers for Marybeth. While it was the smallest district inside of Urgway City, it had been a landslide for Barker. The news stations were calling it a dramatic come back from the canine candidate. They talked about the riots of months before, about the militia-like police force, and about how Barker was thought in over his head. 

Then, at 10 pm, the stations called for Barker to be the next mayor of Urgway. The swing had come so fast and been so dramatic that no one had seen it coming. Barker did not care what the real final numbers had been. He just cared that Buntly had done what he promised. Barker’s party burst back into life. Those with their speeches prepared for Ember, changed the name back to Barker. 

Barker received a phone call from Ember who congratulated him on his victory. Barker knew that Ember did not mean a word of it, but it did not matter. Barker took the stage at 10:20 pm. He reiterated his speeches from his campaign, telling everyone how much better Urgway would be under his guidance. Barker had done what he set out to do. He had never experienced a greater feeling. He would not say he was happy, but it was the closest he had ever been. Barker finished his speech and stepped down from the stage. He shook hands, made a few promises of later meetings, and then, silently slipped out the back door of the building. The cool air hit him, and he let the façade drop. There was still something very important that had to be done this night. 

* * *

Barker’s plans for the night were set. Later that evening, he would make it known to the world what to expect from here on out. For now, he was posted in his new office. There with him were Buntly and Gabby Rhodes, were his two most loyal cohorts. Buntly was watching the news play across the flat screen TV that Barker had instructed be brought into the office. 

Gabby was going over accounts that could be moved now that Barker’s title had changed from Detective to Mayor. Barker thought at that a moment. In all the time he had rushed to be the new Mayor, he never thought about what it would be like to not be a detective any longer. There would be no more cases to solve. There would be no more case notes to slave over. He was free from the grunt work of the city. Now, he would be able to focus on the bigger picture. 

“It is not looking too pretty out there in some of the districts,” Buntly said, not taking his eyes off the television. 

Barker glanced over at him and sure enough, saw the stations reporting riots in some of the city streets. Barker saw car fires, shop windows being busted, and protestors forming. His canine cops were all over the scene throwing in tear gas and arresting any of the animals on the street. Barker had expected this. His patrolmen were out in full-force tonight. These riots would be stopped before they ever had the chance to really start. Tomorrow morning would see the jail cells packed with animals and Barker as the mayor. 

“Gabby, have you thought on the question?” Barker asked, deciding to focus on something that could be useful for him. 

Gabby looked up from her papers, holding the pen tip at her stopping point. She looked up at Barker and she looked to be struggling with the decision. 

“Where would my office be?” Gabby asked. 

Barker held back a smile, “as close to this office as I could feasibly get you,” Barker replied. 

Gabby stretched her neck. She had been pouring over the papers for a long time. Barker did not remember seeing her at the celebration for more than about five minutes and assumed she was here crunching numbers. Barker liked that most about Gabby, her work ethic was always on spot. 

“I won’t lie,” Gabby let out a sigh, “I am not overly thrilled about leaving my business in the hands of someone else. However, I do see the importance of being here. I think that once the revenue starts rolling in, I will be able to forgive myself a little more for this decision,” Gabby said. 

Barker chuckled. There would no doubt be a fortune coming in and out of her office daily. 

“So, that means you will be moving here then?” Barker confirmed. 

Gabby shook her head, “I will move after the swearing-in of office,” she replied. “That will give me some time to put things into order. We will have to find someone capable of turning a profit at Cunel,” she said. 

Barker agreed. There would be no use in letting that small enterprise go to waste. “We will find just the right person to make sure that it continues being a nice little honey pot for us,” he said. 

Nothing was going to stand in the way of Barker. Not tonight and not ever again. The Canes and Barker both would make the city of Urgway into the place it had always been meant to be. 

“There is something I have to take care of now,” Barker said, grabbing his coat from the back of his chair. “I will see you both tomorrow to start further planning the future,” he said. 

Buntly and Gabby said their goodbyes and Barker made for the elevator. He had one last thing to do tonight. Then, he would be able to set back and start to enjoy the ride. 

* * *

Barker exited the taxi, throwing a twenty in through the passenger window. Barker did not even stick around for the change. He was too focused on what had to be done. The driver peeled away and out of sight. 

Barker had been dropped off at the edge of the city. This warehouse had been where Scept made his toys for the poor boys and girls of the city. Here he had made dreams come true. Barker had figured out the real passion of Scept sometime later, but there was a remarkably touching side to the squirrel as well. Barker moved to open the doors to the warehouse. The toys now were put to no use. Barker was not about to resume the squirrel’s good deeds. He had no time for the random acts of kindness. His schedule was chock-full. 

Barker walked inside and made sure there were no stragglers inside the building. Usually, the homeless never made it out this far into the city. There would be no scraps or purses to snatch here. It was always best practice to cover all your bases though. 

Barker found no one as expected. He returned outside, waiting for his guest to arrive. It had not been as hard as he assumed to find a willing canine to bring him his guest. The harder part would be in the investigation afterward. Barker was not too worried about that. While he was just elected the new mayor of Urgway, he was technically still the head detective until the swearing in. He still had a little pull on the way investigations moved until then. 

Barker saw the headlights after about ten minutes of waiting. He knew exactly who was coming up the deserted pathway. There would be no need for any other living soul to wander down this road. Barker stepped to the side and awaited the driver to exit. 

A young great dane stepped from the driver’s seat, stretching his long legs. 

“Here, he is,” the dane said. 

Barker shielded his eyes from the headlights. 

“Leave him in the cuffs, but bring him out,” Barker said. 

The dane did as he was instructed. He pulled a large, orange tiger from the car. Barker smiled seeing Tony Rockwell. Rockwell did not look as enthused to see Barker. The dane had obviously drugged the large cat to make him more susceptible to the long drive over. That worked to Barker’s advantage as well. 

Barker pulled a wad of cash from his suit pants and handed it over to the young guard. 

“You did well, kid,” he said. 

The dane smiled and pocketed the cash, “anytime, sir,” he said. 

Barker waved him on now. The kid probably had every idea of what Barker was going to do out here tonight, but there would be no need for him to actually see it. The dane returned to his car and Barker waited until the headlights disappeared before he approached Tony Rockwell. 

* * *

Rockwell looked up to Barker with dazed eyes, but Barker could see the hatred behind the confusion. 

Barker reached out his hand, placing it on Rockwell’s shoulder, “I am glad you could make the journey out here to meet me. I was not sure you would be willing to see me,” Barker chuckled. 

Rockwell opened his mouth to say something, nothing escaped but garbled words. 

“There is no need for you to thank me for the ride. I would be willing to help out any friend of mine,” Barker patted Rockwell’s shoulder again. 

Tony tried to pull away, but his body was just too weak from the cocktail he had been fed. 

“I know you had every intention of speaking with Vulpecula tomorrow. I am sure the fox would have loved to hear from you. You know you were once a hero of his,” Barker took a step back from the tiger. “Of course, you knew that a great mind like yours can see all the avenues. It must have been such a burden for you to be in the back seat to a man like Hensley Noel. You should have been the famous name. You were, after all, the man who did most of the work,” Barker shrugged his shoulders. “It really is a shame how these things tend to work out. You could have been a rock star. You could have conquered all of Maharris. Instead, you were a side-kick in a world where only heroes are remembered.” 

Barker was pacing in front of Rockwell. He stopped and turned to see the tiger again staring bullets through him. There was still a daze there, but Barker knew that Rockwell was completely aware of what was going on. He was just powerless to stop it. 

Barker pulled something out of his pocket. He had pondered the entire ride over how this scene would go. There were so many ways he could achieve the same goal. All that really needed to happen here was for Tony Rockwell to die. That was the only real mission. Barker could have achieved that easily with a shot to the head. He could have even had Rockwell poisoned in his own cell. Those two would have been acceptable and easy to accomplish. 

Barker had opted for something else. Tony Rockwell had killed his father’s version of the Canes with a thousand tiny cuts. Barker held the knife up to Tony’s face and slowly drew it across his fur. The blood welled up, coating the metal body of the knife. Tony flinched at the pain. 

“Tonight, you will remember every trial, every prosecution, and I will make you remember every dog you ever left out in the cold,” Barker snarled. 

He drove the knife deeper on the second cut. On the third, he cut a piece of Rockwell’s cheek away. Barker was not going to do this the quick and the easy way. He would take his time, slowly cutting away the life of Tony Rockwell. He would make him feel the pain of everyday Barker had lived in the thralls of animalism. He would make Tony know what it felt like to be an orphaned canine in a city filled with hate. Then, and only then, would he let Rockwell die, knowing what it was like. 

Barker cut away Rockwell piece by piece. Sometime during the second hour of cutting, Rockwell’s drugging wore off. His howls were loud, but there would be no one around for miles to hear him. Barker carved Tony into hundreds of pieces, allowing him to live each and every moment of his torture. Then, sometime before the sun rose, he finished. Rockwell was dead, flayed alive. Barker was drenched in blood and wondrous joy. He dropped the knife by Rockwell’s side. He was not done yet, but the task had been completed. The world now had to know. 

* * *

“In tragic fashion, former Attorney Tony Rockwell was found today, mutilated and dead. Reports say that Tony had been cut in several pieces over the stretch of several excruciating hours. How Tony was moved from his cell at Noel Correctional Facility is still unknown. However, reports say that the most chilling piece of this all was the symbol found next to the corpse. Drawn in blood was the canine print best known as the calling card to The Canes.”