Loose Ends

“The thoughts won’t leave me be,” Scep was pacing. Barker looked up from his notepad for a brief moment. Scep was always pacing, ever since he won the Mayor title a month ago. 

“I have to act on them, but I know I can’t act on them,” Scep said.

Barker resumed ignoring him. Let the squirrel pace a hole into the floor. Barker was worrying about bigger fish. Vulpecula, down in Marybeth, had thrown a curveball solving the Rockwell case on his own. Rockwell had messed up letting his emotions get the better of him. Vulpecula was a small-time detective, solving this case brought him too much attention. Barker rolled the thoughts over in his head again. 

Vulpecula had come across the Rockwell case by mere happenstance. Afterward, he had failed to push it up the chain of command. Barker had plans for that case, big plans. Vulpecula took them in a new direction. The results were the same. Rockwell was locked away for good. However, now Vulpecula was doing hot take interviews on the street. Barker recalled even seeing a front page shot of the white-haired fox with the tag line, ‘New hot detective from Marybeth, could this be the second detective from the small district to strike career gold?’ Barker had ripped up the paper, throwing it into his waste bin, but it would do little to change the facts. 

“They are all watching me you know? The media, newspapers, journalist,” Scep was still muttering in the background. 

Barker tapped his pen on the pad. He would have to talk with Vulpecula. He would have to come up with some pretense. Maybe a yearly evaluation would do the trick. Barker had other business to take care of first, however. 

There was something that had started all of this. Barker’s conversation with a certain tiger had brought this all to fruition. He would have to have another conversation to make sure all the dominoes fell into their proper place. 

“Their eyes are always watching me. I can’t even check my mail without a group of reporters in my driveway. They would watch me take a sh…”

Barker looked up from his scribbles. 

“What are you going on about?” Barker asked. 

Scep refused to stop pacing. He would wear out the expensive loafers Barker had bought him at this rate. 

“I want to be in control. I thought this position would make me feel like I was in control. I have never felt so meek in my life though. I feel like the world is crushing me beneath it. Like the entire city is waiting on me to fail,” Scep said. 

Barker flipped his notepad shut. He would have to get out of this office to do anymore thinking. His daily check-ups on the newly elected mayor were getting more and more chaotic. 

Scep was fully breaking down. Barker had known he was never a full crayon box but now he was missing all of the bright colors. 

Scep talked about rape, torture, and murder almost all of his waking hours. The other hours were spent with paranoia about getting caught doing those things. Barker tried to instill a sense of fear into Scep to keep him from acting out on his fantasies and so far that had worked. However, it didn’t stop him from talking about it. 

“There is nothing to worry about. You keep your hands clean and we will pin the murders on someone else. This is not a problem unless you make it one,” Barker said. 

Scep stopped pacing long enough to shake his head frantically. “They already know. They won’t believe you when you tell them different. I am awaiting the paper headlines, any day now they will come.” 

Barker closed his eyes. Scep was falling over the deep end. If it continued like this, he would need a new mayor candidate. He wondered for a moment how Gabby Rhodes would do as the mayor of Urgway. Quickly, he pushed that thought aside. He would need her doing far too many other things. 

For now, he would have to keep Scep at least semi-sane. He didn’t need him for any real decisions. He just needed him to make appearances, waving his little paw to the gathered crowds. 

Barker opted to think on it later. Right now, it would be a better use of his time to take care of other business. The first meeting of the day was scheduled for 1 pm. He would be seeing an old friend of his father. He would be seeing Tony Rockwell, a tiger, who had taken down hundreds of members of the former Canes. 

Barker stood up, fixing his collar in the nearby mirror. He took a moment to glance back at Scep, who had not even noticed Barker was leaving; the squirrel was peering out of the window. Barker was glad at that moment the window did not open. 

Barker shook his head. He would definitely think on this all later. Barker opened the door, walking toward the elevators. 

2.

Urgway’s Noel Penitentiary was a private sectored prison in the far off reaches of the city. It was surrounded by colleges, high schools, and gas-stations. Barker always found it odd what was built around prisons, but money bought land, and no one could stop you building what you wanted on it. 

Barker rang the buzzer on the outside gates. It buzzed, but Barker could think of hundreds of things that sounded more like an alert system. A few second passed before he heard the gritty voice of a female corrections officer. 

“Business at the prison today?” she asked. 

Barker looked around for a camera to flash his badge at but Rescue must have not donated enough to get the top-line security footage. 

“I have an appointment with prisoner Tony Rockwell,” Barker said. 

The system was quiet for a few moments. Then, the voice of the woman returned, “It says here you are Detective Barker from the Urgway detective unit?” she asked. 

Barker shook his head, before remembering that there were no cameras pointed at him. “Yes,” he said. 

The system went quiet for a few more moments. Barker looked around at the security of the prison. Chain-link fences topped with barbed-wire, heavy doubled-gated entrances, and guard towers lined with two riflemen. 

“You will need to present your badge and I.D. at the front office window. The personnel there will give you your visiting pass and guide you to the visiting rooms.”

Barker waited as the double-gates opened to a small sidewalk lined with more gates on either side. Noel Prison was a maximum-security prison. Barker wondered how easy it would be to break out of this fortress. 

The doors opened with a loud buzz, Barker stepped through. This was the first time Barker had ever visited the Noel Prison. He had been to several prisons during his years at Marybeth, but never here. This was the very place, before the name change, that his father had been sentenced to. Barker reached up, adjusting his collar. His stomach swam. Very few places put him on edge but the thought of rotting in this place was one of them. 

“Sir,” said a guard from beside him. 

Barker broke from his thoughts, looking to the guard.

“You will need to move this way,” he said, pointing toward a small colorless hallway. “At the end of the hall is Susan, our receptionist.” 

Barker nodded, willing his legs to move down the hallway. At the end of the hall, there was Susan. Susan was a small beaver that sat, clacking away at the keys on her computer. 

“Writing the next best-selling novel?” Barker laughed. Barker felt awkward here. 

Susan looked up, not smiling back at him. “Detective Barker?” she asked, pulling a clipboard from the wall. 

Barker pulled out his badge and a photo I.D., here, Barker felt all his power was a mirage. Here, the outside world meant nothing. 

The woman inspected his photo and his badge, and then scooted them back across the counter. Barker grabbed them, stuffing them back into his pocket. 

The woman made a few scratches on the clipboard, “do you have any items to declare?” she asked. Barker shook his head. He had only one item that would be of interest to the beaver, but he wasn’t about to declare it. He had risked enough bringing it with him at all, but it was vital. 

Barker waited for the woman to look away, before patting his inner pocket. He felt the solid shape of the item. When the woman turned her eyes back toward him, Barker shifted his hand to his collar. 

“I will need you to sign these waivers and release forms,” she said. 

Barker took the clipboard, not bothering to read the papers before putting his signature in the boxes. 

The woman seemed to be used to the quick transaction. No one ever read the fine print on these things. You wanted the item, you took the terms. Barker needed to see Rockwell and so, he would take the risks. 

“You will go through the double doors to your left,” the woman pointed toward two metal doors, “after, you will be patted down by the guard and taken to the waiting area,” she said. 

Barker had hoped his badge would be enough to deter a search, but it seemed that Noel Prison was keen on routine and procedure. 

The double doors opened with the press of a button and the woman turned away, leaving no room for further conversation. 

Barker stood still a moment, thinking of the best way to proceed. Before he had a chance to come to any concrete solution, a well built, bald Kangaroo jumped through the doorway. 

“Come on through here,” he said. Barker was taken aback by the man’s high-pitched voice but followed him through the doors anyhow. 

“Step over into the corner here,” the man said. 

Barker did as he was told and about ten seconds later, a flash followed. “Quick photo opts,” the man laughed. He then turned, grabbing the instantly developed photo. “Comes out as a sticker,” he said, “goes on this pass,” he produced a small visiting pass from one of the drawers under the camera. “Here you go, just stick this to your shirt,” the Kangaroo handed him the small pass. 

Barker looked at the adhesive back, wondering what the residue would do to his suit. It was of no matter; he would have to bite the bullet on this one. He pressed the sticker on lightly. 

The Kangaroo seemed pleased, “good,” he said. 

The Kangaroo started off down a dimly lit hall-way toward another set of electronically locked double-doors. He stopped when he noticed that Barker was not following him. “Just this way, sir,” he called back. 

Barker figured this would be the touchy-feely part, but the doors opened, and the Kangaroo didn’t send him to a private room. He sent him along to a white room filled with two more guards and a long wooden table. 

“Tony Rockwell will be here in less than a minute. Have a seat.” 

Barker did not remind him of the forgotten pat-down. He watched the kangaroo leave, taking a seat. 

The guards posted in the room with him were not the conversational type. They were more of the post up and intimidate type. Barker inwardly laughed. He could have all their badges in the midst of a breath. One of them did nod his head to Barker in an act of acknowledgment. Barker neglected to nod back, instead fixing his suit collar. 

It was more than a minute later when Tony Rockwell finally walked in through the door-way of the small waiting room. He was dressed in the famous orange jumpsuit of most prisons. Tony did not pull it off well, it being a direct contrast to his orange and black fur. 

Barker gave a lazy wave as Tony sat opposite him. The two guards guiding him into the room greeted Barker; then stepped back out the way they came.

Barker wished the other guards would follow suit. He would have trouble fulfilling what he came here for with them staring over Tony’s shoulder. 

Tony caught Barker’s eyes, looking back toward the two posted guards behind him. 

“The two zebras behind me,” he pointed with a nod of his head, “the one on the left is Harvey. The one on the right is Kevin.” 

Barker looked them both over. He wasn’t sure what the introductions were meant to do for him. Knowing them or not knowing them, he would still be stuck, unable to finish what he had come to do. 

“It is okay to speak freely in front of them,” Rockwell said. “They would have never searched you, not once I told them what you were bringing with you,” Tony smiled. 

Barker saw Rockwell’s fangs flash, Barker wondered if that was a threat. 

“It is good to see you, Tony,” Barker leaned back in his chair. 

“I have no interest in pleasantries,” Rockwell said. Rockwell pressed his palms hard against the table between them. 

Barker didn’t care what Tony Rockwell wanted. This was his show, “well, you see,” Barker started, “the grand thing about being in my position is you have to play by what interests me.” Barker flashed his own smile. 

Tony grabbed the glass of water that was provided, chugging it down in one gulp. 

Tony was a tiger, but he wasn’t the biggest animal that Barker had ever shared a room with. That would have probably gone to the purple hippo with Rescue. He was also not the scariest; there was that time with the crazy lion in the diner. Tony was just another man. 

“What do you want, Barker? What else could you possibly take from me?” he asked. 

Barker shrugged, “there is a lot I could take from you, Tony. Could you even begin to imagine how much you took from me?” 

Tony let a smile creep over his face again, “I took from you?” he asked, mockingly. “I took nothing from you or any of your kind. No, your kind did well enough to sabotage each other. You being a runt on the streets was not my fault. Thank the men behind The Canes for that. I just put them away. You would have put them away too if you knew them,” Rockwell said. 

Barker did not let his inner thoughts show. Rockwell knew some about Barker and his ploys. He knew that Barker had bent the law but not to what extent. He definitely had no idea that Barker’s father was The Canes leader he was talking about.

“I will not debate philosophy with a prisoner. You will humor me,” Barker leaned forward, looking Rockwell straight in the eyes. 

“Kevin, Harvey, could we possibly get the room for a few moments?” Rockwell asked. 

The two guards looked hesitant but agreed to let them have the room. Barker made note that Noel’s guards were no better than any others, everyone was able to be bought. 

Once the door shut, Tony stood to his feet, “where is the Water Lily?” he almost growled the words. 

Barker shook his head, “Tony, do you realize that you are going to die in here?”

Tony laughed, “do you honestly think that matters anymore?” he asked. 

“Your reputation is gone,” Barker continued. 

“I don’t care!” Tony did growl this time. 

Barker reached up, adjusting his collar. 

“Your legacy is faded,” Barker said. 

Tony brought a paw up, almost as if he were going to swipe Barker from his chair. “I do not care about any of that anymore,” he said. 

“I know, you say you only care about the higher power you have found. You care about the calling of your God. However, your God is not here right now to help you, is he? He has abandoned you in your time of need,” Barker stood to his feet. He was not scared of Tony Rockwell. He only felt hatred for the man. The figurehead may have been the fox, Noel, but he would have never won a case without the tiger, Tony Rockwell. 

“My God helps those who help themselves!” Tony said. 

Barker could not help but laugh a real humor filled laugh. “You honestly believe that, don’t you? You think that your God would want you to take the wrap for this murder. All for a piece of stone?”

Tony turned. Barker could see that Rockwell wanted to strike him. He wanted to put him through the wall. Barker almost wondered if there would be a real murder charge to stick to Rockwell after this visit.  

“I will allow you to poke fun if it makes you feel better. I will keep your crimes a secret until my grave. I will do what it takes but you must give me the Water Lily,” Rockwell said. 

Barker laughed aloud. “You let Vulpecula, the fox, apprehend you. Why?” Barker asked. 

Rockwell’s shoulders slouched, “the kid had no idea what was actually going on. He wanted to believe I didn’t have it in me. Wanted to believe that heroes existed, but I ruined that for him. I took the blame just like you asked of me,” Rockwell said. 

Barker would never understand sentimental people. Tony had almost ruined everything by allowing Vulpecula to be the man who apprehended him. 

“That wasn’t the deal,” Barker said. 

“What does it matter?” Rockwell asked. “It all ended up exactly the same. I am here, away for a crime I never committed. You got what you wanted. Now, it is my turn to get what you promised me,” he said. 

Barker reached up to his pocket, feeling the outline of the hard lump inside. He had brought Rockwell something in exchange for what he had done. 

“You should always follow the plan the way it is laid out to you. There is no room for wiggles or turns. When something goes wrong who knows what all could happen?” Barker said. 

Tony turned back to face him now. Tony’s eyes were leaking. Tears streamed down his fur, matting it below his eyes. Barker shook his head, “so weak,” he whispered. 

Barker sighed, stepping away from the table. 

“My father ran The Canes,” Barker said, reaching into his pocket. “He was not my favorite person, but he was my father,” Barker continued. His fingers wrapped around the lump inside his pocket, “I am not sure how my life would have turned out without people like you, but I can’t imagine it would have been any worse. The depravity you made us, the ridicule, the hatred, the segregation because of men like you.” Barker pulled his hand from his pocket, fingers still curled around the lump. 

“Your father was a miscreant. Your father made his own fate,” Rockwell looked enraged

“We all make our own fate,” Barker replied. 

“Your father could not see past his greed,” Rockwell slammed his open palms on the table. 

Barker imagined that Rockwell would rather it be his head, but Barker still had something he wanted. 

“I will be sure not to overlook my enemies. I will be sure that greed does not consume me.” Barker adjusted his collar with his free hand. “What you should do is enjoy your time in here. You will get plenty of time to think on everything you have ever done. Maybe by the end of it, you will suffer as much as I did,” Barker said. 

“For the Water Lily, I would suffer forever,” Rockwell said. 

“I am sure you would, you fool.” Barker put the table in between himself and Rockwell. He then opened his hand, placing the item he had brought with him onto the table for Rockwell to have. 

Rockwell looked down and his eyes almost bulged from his skull, “what is that!” he roared. 

Barker was already to the door, not wanting to risk the wrath. “Coal is for bad boys who do not follow deals,” he said. Barker slipped from the room, shutting the door behind him. The two guards were nearby, Barker nodded to them as he passed. He could hear Tony break as the table crashed into the wall. 

3.

Barker left Rockwell in pain, angst, and anger. He also left him a warning. ‘Speak to anyone and the Water Lily will be destroyed.’ At least that is what the note on the underside of the coal had said. Barker would have felt vulnerable if it had not been for Tony Rockwell’s odd obsessive turn to religion. Fame, fortune, and loss had turned Rockwell into a shell of the man he once was. This Rockwell would have been able to put no one in prison but himself. Barker had done him nothing more than a favor. 

Rockwell had done him a favor as well. Beyond taking the wrap for a murder he hadn’t committed. Tony had also brought him back to a good center. Barker needed to focus on those who could hurt him in the future. Rockwell had made sure Barker would stay sharp. 

Barker entered his offices just after lunch. He had spent the whole morning with Scep and Rockwell. Now, he was going to focus on The Canes. 

The white-haired Maltese was up from her desk as he entered, “there was a note left for you by Officer John Harren,” she said.

Barker grabbed the folded sheet of paper. John Harren was a missing person’s detective. Barker did not open the note outside his office doors. There were too many things that could be hidden in this paper. John Harren was not a great friend, but he was a fellow dog and that gave him and Barker something in common. Barker hoped that was enough to keep him quiet about whatever was written in this note. 

Barker sat down, staring at the folded paper in his paws. This could only be about one case. Barker knew the case he had tagged for John Harren to alert him to. The cat, Tiam and his star-crossed lover. What had that brown cat’s name been? Barker took a deep breath, opening the paper. 

Just thought you would like to know, your friend Vulpecula, down in Marybeth has gone looking into Tiam’s missing lover. No idea why you care but I did what you asked of me. I will look out for the money transfer.

Barker and Harren were both dogs but Barker may have sweetened the deal with a few dollars, to be safe.

Barker folded the letter, ripping it in pieces after. Harren had been tasked with watching the case of the missing Water Lily. Had Rockwell already tipped Vulpecula off about the gem? Why would he do that? Rockwell, until an hour ago, thought he was getting the Water Lily returned. Why would he ruin that for himself? Was his love for Noel really so blind that he would foil his own plans for his fox cub?

Barker yelled for his secretary. He would need to make new plans. Rockwell may have double crossed him or maybe there was something else going on here that he wasn’t seeing. Either way, the best route to finding out this information was, “get me a lunch date with Mr. Vulpecula from Marybeth,” Barker said. 

The Maltese looked confused for a moment but said nothing. Barker noticed the momentary hesitation. Asking for Vulpecula may be a little odd, so he prefaced it with something that would not be. 

“It is time for the fox to get an evaluation,” he smiled. 

The Maltese nodded, shutting the door behind her. 

4.

Buddy’s Diner had once been Barker’s second home; the place where he would go to have coffee and plot the return of The Canes. It had been quite a while since he had last stepped foot through the twin glass doors, but it still felt like home. 

A new waitress guided Barker to a back booth as he had requested. The waitresses at Buddy’s Diner never lasted long so he wasn’t surprised he didn’t know her. Buddy was frugal, paid low wages, and would rather replace than give a raise. 

Barker sat down across from his requested guest of honor. The white fox of Marybeth looked nervous. He was picking at his fur around his finger joints. Barker could not be sure that he had even noticed Barker sit down across from him. 

Barker cleared his throat and sure enough, the fox jumped. 

“Um, sorry, hello,” he said in a scattering of syllables that barely came out as words. 

Barker stretched out his paw. Barker wasn’t much on handshakes, but he figured Vulpecula was even more against them. He could see the uneasy way he wiggled. Vulpecula tentatively shook Barker’s paw. It was a weak handshake, Barker made sure to give an extra squeeze. 

Vulpecula grabbed his water, downing half the glass in a nervous fit. 

Barker wondered if maybe he had overestimated his contemporary. Maybe this fox was nothing like his father at all. Maybe he was not the kind of threat Barker should waste his time with. 

Vulpecula looked up at him briefly but long enough for Barker to see the conviction in his eyes. Vulpecula’s body betrayed his nervous tension, but his eyes showed that he had what it took to be a great detective. Barker would not underestimate him. 

“I called you here today just to get some bearings on where we are. You have been with the Marybeth unit for a little while now, solved a few cases, one huge case in Rockwell. Congratulations on that one,” he said. 

Vulpecula only nodded his head in reply. Barker doubted that Vulpecula saw that as a win. He had tarnished his own father’s legacy with that break through case. 

“Well, today, I just want to go over those cases. Look at future cases and get a feel for how you are enjoying your stay in Urgway as opposed to a place like Acera,” Barker reached up adjusting his powder blue tie. 

Vulpecula was not quick to answer any of the questions Barker had posed. Barker prodded him a little more, “first, tell me how you are enjoying Urgway?” he asked. 

Vulpecula’s eyes were always moving. That was what Barker noticed the most. He was not doing it only out of anxiety; it was also to watch the room. Vulpecula would be able to recant to him the exact position of every person in this place. He would bet that Vulpecula also knew their habits and likelihood they would commit a crime sometime soon. Barker kept the approving smirk from his lips. 

“If you looked at a map, I think Acera would appear like the head of Maharris, smiling stupidly because it doesn’t know better. Urgway, on the other-hand, is the feet, stomping on you, digging into your skin with cleats,” Vulpecula said. 

Barker let a genuine laugh escape him, “I suppose you could say that indeed. It is a good thing for detectives. I like to believe it to be job security,” he said. 

Vulpecula shrugged his shoulders. Barker wasn’t going to be getting chummy with the white fox. He was lucky the fox hadn’t yet bolted toward the door. 

Barker opened the file he had gathered on Vulpecula. It was not extensive. It had been thrown together on a whim to put forth the effort of making this seem like a real evaluation. Barker stopped on the Rockwell case photo; Tony Rockwell stared back, void of emotion. Barker knew all too well how vivid that emotion could become. 

“Tell me about the Rockwell case,” Barker said. 

Vulpecula did look up at Barker this time. Barker could see the sorrow in Vulpecula’s eyes. This man had to have been a childhood hero. He was a hero to every non-dog in all of the greater Maharris. 

“He just confessed, nothing unique about it,” said Vulpecula. 

Barker could pick out the tension in his voice. Vulpecula wasn’t satisfied with the results of his investigation. Barker would bet that Vulpecula wanted to be as far away from this verdict as possible. This would never let him go though. The son of Rescue’s own, Noel was the man who took down the biggest part of the entire program. Rockwell hadn’t actually been part of Rescue. He was a low-time psychiatric quack south of Urgway City now, but once he had been top of the world. 

“You know people would kill for a case like this. This is a big-time name-builder,” Barker pressed. 

Vulpecula refused to bite. Barker could tell that Vulpecula wanted nothing more than to be away from the spotlight. 

“It brought me no pleasure. I would have traded it to any of those men for free,” Vulpecula replied. 

Barker chuckled, “killing your heroes is never easy.”

Vulpecula said nothing in reply. 

“How about you tell me a little about the Rockwell case, beyond what the public already knows. Beyond what I can read in this case-file,” Barker said. 

Vulpecula may not have been keen on bringing up the current case, but he would not refuse Barker here. 

“I knew Tony as a child. He worked with my father; as you well probably already know. I remember him differently than the man he has become. Back then he still had passion, but it wasn’t the same. Back then he wanted what was right. Hero is a funny way to put it but he read me stories and that was close enough,” Vulpecula stopped talking. He drained the rest of his water. 

Barker waited for him to resume his story, but Vulpecula was not going to continue without some extra prodding. 

“What do you believe changed in him?” Barker asked. 

Vulpecula fidgeted with his fork. Barker noted that the fox never really stopped moving. 

“Time,” Vulpecula put the fork on the table. “Tony spent all his time trying to take-down what my father convinced him was the ultimate evil; equality amongst the animals. That was the mission statement Hensley Noel used to rally Rescue. Did they make it better? Maybe for some. A little boy screamed for his life in a fire and might disagree. Even the noblest becomes what they hate in the end. My father, Rescue,” he stopped for a moment, “and Tony Rockwell. Pitted against the right enemy, our morality folds in on itself like a folding-chair.”

“So, you would say that his conviction to sanity had slipped?” Barker asked. 

Vulpecula shook his head, “I don’t know if I put the right man in prison,” he answered. 

Barker adjusted his tie. He would have to reassess the Rockwell case himself if Vulpecula wasn’t satisfied with the outcome. 

“What makes you believe he would confess to something he did not do?” Barker asked. 

Vulpecula looked up again, “people do things for many reasons. I don’t know what Rockwell’s reasons were but I believe he had them,” he said. 

Barker nodded, he would not press on the case. Too many times mistakes were made in times of trying to clean up loose ends. He would take a little while to think on a solution before moving to clean up the mess. 

“It is a feeling, is all. Growing up, people just seem so much more than they truly turn out to be,” Vulpecula added. 

Barker could relate to those words more than Vulpecula knew. Barker could see him and Vulpecula having a lot in common. Both of them were the sons of powerful men. Both of them grew up in the shadows of what their fathers had done. 

Barker took a sip of his coffee. He would use this against Vulpecula. He would not relate with him, he would file it away as a weakness, something to be exploited if needed. 

“Living up to your father will be difficult indeed,” Barker said. 

Vulpecula pulled again at the cuffs of his jacket. Barker imagined that Vulpecula was a very calculating man. He could have been competent even. Barker would have to see that never came to fruition. Competent detectives were a dangerous breed. 

When Vulpecula chose not to reply, Barker moved on. He flipped the page in his jumbled folder. 

“Current cases,” Barker said, thumbing the tag-line.

Vulpecula glanced up at the briefing and Barker pulled up the folder as if he were reading something interesting there. 

“Says you have a new case?” Barker said. He had access to any case Vulpecula was working on, but most of the time they mattered little to him. 

“The last case I had on my desk, I alluded to. The fire at the school’s greenhouse,” Vulpecula started, and then stopped, not keeping eye-contact well at all. Barker wondered if he was really just that nervous or if he’d seen a ghost. 

Barker put a mental note to look into the case. It was another weakness to get too involved. 

“That isn’t the one I am talking about,” Barker said, pretending to read further into the case notes. 

“I am not sure then what you are speaking about,” Vulpecula replied. 

Barker wondered if he were being cute. Did Vulpecula know more than he was letting on? How much had that idiot tiger, Rockwell told him? Was the whole scoop in the pocket of this rookie detective? Barker reached up, adjusting his collar. This was the son of Rescue’s founder. Was he smart enough to foil Barker before he even got started? Was Barker stupid to leave Rockwell alive? Barker felt the silence hang over them for a moment. 

“I don’t believe I have another open case at the moment,” Vulpecula added. 

He still seemed on edge. Barker doubted that was because he had something. Barker felt it was more that Vulpecula was nervous about what Barker would say next. Barker took a deep breath. 

“It says a cat contacted you about a certain case,” Barker teased. 

 “I’ve barely looked into that. Guy named Samuel flagged me down and thought we overlooked some things. Not even a real case,” Vulpecula said. 

Barker knew that if left alone, the fox would look further into the case. The fox may even figure out the case. That would be bad for business. Barker weighed his options. He could kill the fox. That may be the safest way to go about things, but something stayed his hand. He felt sorry for the fox. Living in his father’s shadow had stunted the fox. Barker thought of a second option. 

“Why don’t you pause that line of work? I want you to finish your current case. Afterward, why don’t we work on this one together?” Barker suggested. 

Vulpecula said nothing for a moment. 

“I was the lead detective on the case, as you may see,” Barker added. 

Vulpecula shook his head, “I think that would be a great idea,” he said dryly and without much conviction. 

Barker doubted that Vulpecula disliked him. He just seemed to be uncomfortable around people. 

Barker flipped through his notes a bit more. He wondered if there was anything else he should touch on with Vulpecula before letting him wander off. 

“Was your father a detective as well?” Vulpecula broke the silence. 

Barker looked up over the case-file. He was honestly shocked Vulpecula had taken the initiative to ask him a question. He tried to weigh if it was a calculated question. Was this another dig from Rockwell? Did Vulpecula know exactly who his dad was?

Vulpecula looked away, still too uneasy to keep prolonged eye contact. Barker decided it was a harmless question. 

“No, my father was dead when I was born,” he lied. 

Vulpecula shook his head, “I wonder if that was easier,” Vulpecula said with no malice. A statement he seemed to instantly regret as insensitive, “sorry,” the fox added.

Barker laughed, “The Bright-Light school for orphaned dogs would make you think twice about that,” Barker answered. 

Vulpecula did not reply. 

Barker closed the file. There was nothing else he needed from this conversation. He had enough information to come up with something to keep this fox busy or destroy him; whichever he decided to do. 

“I appreciate you coming here for lunch,” Barker said. 

“No problem,” Vulpecula replied, clearly lost in his own world of thoughts. 

“I will finish the evaluation after we complete the rest of the case together, I look forward to working with you,” Barker said. 

“Same,” was all Vulpecula said in reply. 

Barker got up, walking toward the doors. Vulpecula stayed behind in his seat. Barker passed by the register, thinking that he would let Vulpecula pick up the tab. 

5.

Barker left the diner with the thought of loose-ends on his mind. He had Rockwell, the Tiam case, Vulpecula, and one more loose-end that he could think of; the former mayor of Urgway. What would everyone call him now? Barker knew his real name now, but it just felt so odd to use it. 

“I am here to see James Gannon,” he said to the clerk at the city jail. 

“How are you this evening, Detective Barker? She asked, pulling down the sign-in sheet. 

The former Mayor, or James Gannon, was being held in the local Tinlly district jail. His court hearing was still a few weeks out but it was a forgone conclusion that soon, James would be sharing a living quarters with Tony Rockwell. 

Barker scratched his name onto the sheet, passing it back to the woman behind the glass. 

“I will buzz you right in,” she said. “I suppose you know where the cells are, or do you need a room?” she asked. 

Barker shook his head, “The cell will be fine,” he replied. 

Barker had no intention of ever being in a room alone with the massive gorilla. If he had thought Rockwell was angry, well that would be an understatement for how Gannon must feel. That, and Barker had no Water Lily to hold over the former Mayor’s head. 

Barker was greeted by a few of the local PD members, all men or women hoping to advance their careers with a quick conversation. 

When Barker finally got back into the cells, he dismissed the single jailer, “you go get lunch,” he told him. The jailor was happy for any excuse to not do his job, so he sauntered off without complaint. 

Barker moved down the few empty cells before coming to the former mayor’s holding place. 

Barker was surprised to see the gorilla looking so disheveled. No one looked good in orange, which was the point behind the jumpsuits. However, this went beyond a wardrobe change. Gannon was looking down at his feet, so it was easy for Barker to pick out the grey hairs on the top of his head. Barker realized Gannon must have dyed his fur. His once imposing figure seemed wilted. He was still all muscle and brawn, but the other worldly power was gone. His shoulders slumped like his weight was too much to carry. 

“Oh, how the mighty have fallen,” Barker said, getting the gorilla’s attention. 

Gannon slowly looked up, his eyes focused on Barker, but he said nothing in reply. 

“Do you not have a single thing you would like to say to me?” Barker asked. 

The former mayor shook his gigantic head, “I am a broken man,” he replied. 

Barker had no doubt about that. The gorilla was a shell of his former self. It was almost more than even Barker would have wished for him; almost. 

Gannon rose from the long metal bench at the back of the cell. Barker tensed, even with the bars between them. However, when Gannon arrived at the bars, he had no intentions of hurting Barker. He reached out his arms, faster than Barker could react, and pulled him in for an embrace. 

“You are all that is left of a dying hope,” he said to Barker. “I know you had no choice but to put me in here. The city would have vilified you had you not.” Gannon patted Barker on the back one more time before letting him go. 

Barker stepped back, out of arms reach. He reached up, adjusting his tie and collar. Then, he tried to get his wits back about him. The gorilla had not reacted quite the way he had expected. Barker was expecting a squeeze but not of the hugging variety. 

Gannon took a deep breath, “how do you think Scep found out about me?” he asked. 

Barker almost laughed. Gannon had no idea what had really happened. He never figured out that Barker had double-crossed him. He really thought Scep was smart enough to undermine him. 

Barker wanted to tell him. He thought that would bring him some small sense of joy. However, it would do no good for his plans, so he kept that fact to himself. 

“I am looking into that,” he lied. 

Gannon nodded, “I know I can count on you to help figure it out,” he said. 

Barker would not be figuring anything out for Gannon. The gorilla would spend the rest of his life in prison. If he was on good terms with Barker, then Barker would never have to worry about him another day in his life. 

Barker was satisfied with the meeting. He had the information he had come to attain. He turned to leave but Gannon stopped him. 

“Being mayor is the most power you will ever have,” he said. “The boards, the bribes, and the money, it is all there for the taking.” 

Barker turned toward the broken gorilla. At the peak of his power, this man had been a god among men. The current mayor was a meek mouse in a den of cats. 

“Take that power from Scep before he ruins everything for you,” Gannon said. 

Barker knew that Gannon had no way of knowing that Scep was in his pocket. He did not know the history of Scep or how Barker had helped him become the mayor. However, he was righter than he knew. 

There were too many people that could ruin him. It was time to do what needed to be done. 

Barker turned, without speaking another word to the former mayor. He would leave with the image of the man pouting and haggard. He would use that to power him through when times got tough. 

For now, he had to clean up some things to make sure he never had to share a prison cell with the gorilla. 

6.

When Barker walked into the Mayor’s office, Scep was in the same general state of mind. Barker wondered if the man even slept anymore with his mental break. 

Barker closed the door, loudly. Scep did not break his pacing to see who had entered the room. Some people were just wired to fold under pressure. 

Barker moved to the chair opposite the large wooden desk. He looked out of the large window into the city of Urgway. It was not a beautiful city. It was old, dirty, loud, and filled with scum, but it was his city. It was the only home Barker had ever known. 

This was the setting to his story. It wasn’t a fantasy island or a magical forest, it was a broken-down piece of crap hellhole. 

It was the place that had made dogs the villains of the story. These were the people who had pushed him down, spitting upon his prone form while he suffered. This was the place that The Canes would raise again. 

“Do you see the media down there?” Scep asked. 

Scep did not turn toward Barker, leaving him to wonder if he were just talking out loud or if he had finally realized Barker had come into the room. 

“They are swarming, like bees to honey,” he continued. 

Barker decided that Scep had yet to figure out he was not alone. 

“They will not find me. I can hide from them forever. They will never get me,” he rambled. 

Barker marveled at how fast this squirrel had fallen off the deep-end. It was a quick fall with a big impact at the bottom. 

Barker fished into his coat pocket, pulling out a small notebook. Here, he kept all the names of people who could help him on his journey to bringing back The Canes. Somewhere near the bottom was the name of the current mayor: Scep. 

Barker pulled a pen from his pocket, taking the red ink through Scep’s name. 

He then flipped the notebook shut, putting it back into his pocket. 

“Scep,” Barker said. 

Scep did not react to his name. 

“Scep!” Barker yelled. 

Scep jumped, seeing Barker for the first time since he entered. 

“Are they here?” he asked. 

“They are here, we need to get you out of this office,” Barker said. 

Scep ran to his chair, grabbing his coat. “We have to leave now,” he cried. 

Barker stood from his chair. Scep was right; it was now time to leave. 

7.

Barker adjusted his tie as he stepped up to the podium. How often had he been behind one of these things lately? It was almost as if this was part of his new job attire. It was a small wooden box lined with cords and microphones. It was the soap-box for men who thought they had something worth listening to. 

Barker shielded out the quick round of camera flashes. There were some things that not even Barker could get used to. He blinked away the floating dots from the light. 

“Good morning,” he said into the microphone. 

Hundreds of reporters, their crew, and cameramen all greeted him together. 

Barker put on a fake smile. All these people were vermin. They would turn on him in a moment if he gave them even an inkling to run with. They were vultures eating away at the lives of others. 

“I am going to take only a few questions this morning. I am sure you can all understand that this is a very busy time for all of us officials here in Urgway,” he said. 

Rumblings from all over the crowd began. Each reporter fought for their opportunity to be the one to ask him the first question. 

Barker had known little about press conferences his first few months as lead detective. He had gone to the podium, pointed, answered, and then went back to his life. 

Over the course of his tenor, he had learned the most important thing about the art of show. He pointed to a young woman reporter in the front row. Barker had staged her hours earlier. She was to give him the only question he would answer. The only question that would get everyone in the city of Urgway talking about him, “will you be stepping in for interim mayor of Urgway?” was all she asked. The crowd was set to buzzing. Barker smiled. Tomorrow, his name would be all over the headlines and by the end of it all; he would be sitting in the seat with the crazy window view.