The Prince of Wealth

  Barker had been about to call it quits in Acera and head back to his offices in Urgway. The trip left him more unsettled than he had previously hoped. Then, the call he had secretly been waiting for without realizing it came.  

   The white fox’s picture gave him a thrill he had not imagined it would. Why did he care about the son of his mortal enemy? A game, he told himself, but there was more to it than that. Something more he could not put a claw on.  

   “Hello, Vulpecula,” Barker said.  

   A silence greeted him. Seconds passed and all Barker could hear was the dead silence of a dropped line. Then, he heard breathing. Just when Barker lost the excitement, thinking it had been a pocket-dial, Vulpecula spoke from the other side. It was quiet and sounded drowned from exhaustion, but it was undoubtedly the white fox.  

   “I have a request for you,” Vulpecula said.  

   The planted seeds were ready to grow. Barker had been subtler with Vulpecula than he had ever been with anyone else in his life. Deciding against the force he implored with everyone else, Barker waited for Vulpecula to need him. It was something different, and Barker was not quite sure why he bothered with it, but it gave him pleasure to think the white fox wanted something from him. Obviously, the fox did not understand who he had been asking a favor from, but Barker knew and that was enough.  

   “I am pretty busy, but I have a few minutes. What can I do for you?” 

   The words could not be further from the truth. Barker was not busy. He had about an hour before he needed to arrive for his flight. Secretly, he hoped Vulpecula would be close by. Maybe they could catch a bite to eat. Maybe Barker could do some convincing for the white fox to return to Urgway. The distance between them, and Barker’s schedule, made it hard to keep tabs on him.  

   “I was wondering if the position I vacated at the Marybeth Police Department was still open?”  

   There was a hesitation in the words. Vulpecula wanted something more than the position. What it was, Barker was unsure, but it intrigued him.  

   “I am afraid we have filled the position. Old bird brains was eager to return to work.”  

   Barker actually had no idea, or cares, about the old position. They may be closed by now for all Barker cared. They were unimportant in the grand scheme of things. A parrot was not going to draw Barker any favors.  

   “I see, well, thanks anyhow that’s that then.”  

   The finality of the words told Barker he was a second away from losing the conversation.  

   “But…,” Barker left the thought hanging. He needed a moment. Thinking on his feet was a specialty, but he had really not expected to need something for Vulpecula on the spot. “How would you like a spot on our special units division? I still have a lot of pull being the mayor over who gets into the detective unit of the city. I could pull a few strings, and I think I have just the case of you. If you are interested in it of course.”  

   Silence. Barker thought maybe he had already hung up or checked out. Then, he heard Vulpecula clear his throat.  

   “What kind of case?”  

   A toothy grin spread across Barker’s face. Hooked like a prized fish. Now, all Barker had to do was reel him in and show him off. There was a special case Barker had been working on. It was not a lie. At least not that part. The rest of the investigation would be a spinning whirlwind of misdirection, but Vulpecula would never need to know that slight detail of the story.  

   “I am sure you recall Rockwell’s untimely death. I know how close to home it hit for you. If there was another man more skilled, more trusted than you, I would ask them. However, I think you are the best man for the job. I have been trailing the murder myself and I think I have lead. Would you be interested in checking into it?” 

   Another bout of silence. Vulpecula’s wheels had to be turning. Barker knew the fox was not a stupid man. For all the faults of the Noel family, wits was not one of them.  

    “I will take it. Should I meet you in Urgway?”  

   Barker checked his watch. Forty-five minutes until takeoff. “I will be back by the morning. Special conference had me holed up for the week. I will see you then.”  

   Without the proffer of a goodbye, the line died. Barker stuffed the phone back into his pocket. He had some time to kill, but now he would use it developing a file on the Great Dane Officer from the night of Rockwell’s killing. It would kill two burns with one stone. Get rid of a high-profile case and occupy a foe, bringing them in closer to the fold.  

   Before Barker could make it two steps toward the waiting area at the airport, a raccoon stepped in his path. The black around the eyes had faded over time. This was an animal with some time under his belt. The raccoon had one hand stuffed in his pocket, the other wrapped around a silver blade. The implication obvious, Barker had an admiring fan and someone wanted a meeting.  

*** 

   If airport security wanted to act like they had a clue about actually protecting the citizens of the city, they would have put in more effort to turning away from the glaring abduction. Barker could have probably put up a little more effort to escape as well, but the curiosity tugged him along.  

   Barker counted twelve guards who ignored them. Twelve men on a payroll of someone Barker did not know. It was interesting. Did the mayor grow some courage overnight and decide to take Barker out? He found it unlikely. This was something else entirely. What it was, he did not know-which was precisely why he let himself be dragged along. Barker waved off his own protection. There were several canine travelers in Acera. Here, in this airport, many of them owed their paycheck to Barker. If he got into a bind, he could have them at his back in a jiffy, but he did not want them to scare off whoever dragged him along.  

   Without bothering to ask a question of the henchman, Barker followed him in through a safety area check door. Inside was nothing but four blank walls. Leaning against one of them, arms folded across his chest was another raccoon. This particular raccoon was dark gray with even darker black stripes. His ears were perked, and the tailored suit he wore screamed money.  

   “Wondering why you are here?”  

   “No, I assumed it was the line for snow cones. Not everyday someone is brave enough to hold a mayor of Maharris at knifepoint. I admire those who try. Even if they are in over their head.” 

   The raccoon pushed off the wall with his shoulder.  

   “Well, in over my head, am I? Good thing raccoon’s are excellent swimmers.” The man waved toward his guard holding the knife. “You are dismissed.”  

   The knife hand dropped from Barker’s side. Without question, complete loyalty, the other raccoon stepped from the room. This left Barker alone with the other man.  

   “What if I tried to kill you? No one checked me for a weapon.” Barker patted his coat pocket. He no longer carried a gun everywhere he went, but the raccoon did not know that.  

   With a shrug of the shoulders, the raccoon took a couple steps forward to be right in front of Barker.  

   “Shoot me and you will never know why I brought you here. If there is one thing I know about you, it is that you are curious by nature. Anything you do not have a grasp on drives you insane. Shooting me will leave too many questions for you and no one left to answer them. Not to mention, I own half of the security here at the airport and they will find you. Mayor or not, your plans will go down the drain faster than a turd.” The raccoon showed a sharp-toothed smile.  

    He was right. Barker hated to admit it, but he was more curious than afraid. Getting rid of the raccoon would not provide him with the answers he wanted.  

   “So, tell me then. Why did you drag me through the airport to this tiny room? What do you want with me?”  

   The raccoon’s fingers were long, but skinny. Barker doubted there was much strength behind them but hoped he did not have to test the theory.  

   “A little chat. Words are world’s most powerful sort of weapon. A stronger source of pain and grief cannot be found. Words have a reach longer than the most powerful sniper and a thrust sharper than the pointiest knife. I only want to talk.”  

   The long black fingers reminded Barker of a gloved hand. They twirled around each other. There were no apparent nerves on the raccoon’s face, but it was obvious he could not sit still.  

   “Why would I waste time talking to some raccoon in the back room of an airport?”  

   Again, the smile.  

   “Because this raccoon has things you may find interesting. A lifestyle you seem to want to replicate, but do not have all the tools you would need to do so. You have connections I would like to sample, and I have knowledge you need, it is a fair trade.”  

   Confidence radiated off those words. A surety and a conclusion had been made long before Barker stepped through the frame of the door behind him.  

   “What is your name?”  

   “Nectar. Maybe you know me better as the Prince of Wealth.” The raccoon pulled a necklace from his chest. Solid gold with a ruby at the end, shining against the dim lights in the ceiling above.  

   “Impressive. The Prince of Wealth, huh? Where does the wealth come from, if I may ask?” 

   The raccoon rubbed his hands together, dropping the chain with a thud against his chest.  

   “You can ask. That is the very measure I offer you today. A finger into the depths of what you seek. All I want in return is a pact. A tit for tat approach to our business.”  

   “What business is that?”  

   The raccoon loved to smile. Barker hated the sight of it already.  

   “Well, we do a lot of business in our sectors now, don’t we? Mostly, I want to discuss the business of control. I know your plans involve taking control. You have started the process there in Urgway, made moves in Acera, and even dabbled with Jalint. I must say, you are a quick mover. Rise to power, make noise, and follow through. I watched with curiosity at first. Unsure if you would make it this far, but now that you have, I have no choice but to step into the light with you. Because, you see, we have a choice to make here today. We work together, like I suggest, or we become enemies, which is just a pain for the both of us.” Nectar rolled his fingers one over the other and then let his shoulders drop. “Let’s not complicate things. We can do so much together.”  

   Barker had never heard of the man in front of him. There were syndicates, mobs, and other small time players all across Maharris. After the Canes had been dismantled, there was room for groups to compile and take over smaller sectors. No one had ever come close to replicating the work of his father.  

   “What do you think you can offer me? 

   “I can tell you that the mayor you talked with at your meetings is only the tip of the Acera network. Those you want in your pocket, I already have deep inside mine. A partnership with me, is one less step you have to take to get the entire pool. Why swim the laps when the shallow end is just fine?”  

   Time was of an essence. The faster Barker could move from one step to the next was important in terms of getting to where he needed to be.  

   “Say I said I may be interested. What are you wanting from me?” 

   Another smile. More annoyance. Barker curled his paw near his side.  

   “I want the same extension into Urgway and anywhere else you get your greasy little paws into. An olive branch for an olive branch. Ten percent for any business you do in Acera. I will extend the same to you for any business I do in the territories you provide for my business.”  

   “You never said what your business was exactly,” Barker reminded him.  

   “Do we have a deal or not? The raccoon rolled his tongue over his black lips.  

   The eyes were what threw Barker off. The way they darted back and forth did not fit the confident speech patterns. As Barker ran them through his head, they sounded more and more rehearsed than sporadic. Which would have been fine, except the raccoon tried his best to play them off as true speech, a little too hard. Like he had not been in a position like this one before.  

   “You do not have any power here, do you?”  

   The raccoon’s eyes blinked hard. Too hard to come back with any real showing of force.  

   “What do you mean?” 

   Barker turned for the door. No reason staying here for this illustration to draw itself out. There had been enough showings for one day. Barker had no desire to be tugged along.  

   “Okay, stop, the boss said this would not work, but we had to try. Letting anyone too close to her in her present nature is not desired.” The raccoon made quickly for the door trying to bar Barker from stepping through.  

   Already Barker’s paws had frozen.  

   “What boss?”  

   The raccoon tilted his head. “The boss of Acera. I am sure you know of her. Why do we not guide you to her? It is a short drive and I think you will find it worth your time and effort to get there.” 

   “Who is the boss?” Going into an unknown car with an unknown crime organization was exactly bottom of the list of things Barker wanted to do. This was how people died or went missing without a notice. Barker was a criminal, but he was not a stupid one. “Name.” Barker growled the words.  

   The raccoon looked nervously around the room like he hoped someone would jump from the walls and save him from this situation. A moment ago, he had pretended to be so confidant, but Barker could see the tremors now. The illusion was just that, a façade. The raccoon had played a game and lost.  

   “The Eyes always watch,” the raccoon licked his black lips. “Mona Eyes is her name. Maybe you have heard rumors of us?” 

   A chuckle. It was all Barker could manage. Mona Eyes was the former district attorney in Acera. She had been ousted on account of her brash and, at times, unfair) punishments to criminal organizations. It turned out later, she had been in close workings with many of the underlings of these exact groups she dropped the hammer upon. Small pockets of criminal enterprises were wrapped up in what the media called Mona’s Eyes, but the rumors had said she had died. Her name still popped up here and there, but it never made it far before the top officials of Acera snuffed the flame.  

   “Mona Eyes is dead,” Barker said. The water was high in this room and the raccoon tried to drown him in it. Barker had to play things close to chest. He had already scared the raccoon into desperate measures.  

   “Not exactly the case. She is not exactly in the same pristine condition she was years before, but she is still sharp and her name still capable of prying open bolted doors.”  

   Certainty again. This, the raccoon, did truly believe. Barker watched for any sign of trickery. Seeing none, he decided to take a leap of faith.  

   “Where would you be taking me to meet with her?” If things were laid truthfully out on the table, having Mona as a friend, or business partner, would be a fortunate turn of events. One Barker could honestly say he did not see coming at the beginning of the day.  

    “Not far from here. I prefer not to disclose the exact location before I take you. In case you decide not to come with me.” The smile was back. No longer was it smug, but concerned, strained, stretching along hallowed cheeks.  

   “Will I be bagged and cuffed as well?” Barker would never stoop so low.  

   “I do not think it will be a necessary measure. Unless you would prefer it as such?”  

   A poor attempt at a joke. One Barker would ignore due to the circumstances.  

*** 

    They arrived in style to a small ranch style home off a bumpy dirt road. Driving a limo down the narrow paths would not have been Barker’s first choice, but money made some people eccentric beyond logic. Stepping out of the matte black ride, Barker looked over a huge farmland. Stretching as far back as he could see on his right side were bails of hay. Some were double stacked on one another, blocking areas further away. Those were not made into a wall on accident. If Barker got the chance to wander over into the area, he was sure he would find things not meant for the eyes of others.  

   “Right this way, Barker.” Nectar waved to him with the skinny, black fingers.  

   The raccoon turned out to not only be the chosen servant to negotiate, but he also drove the limo, and took care of Mona. Barker was still unaware of what he would come across once he walked into the home.  

   In the distance, Barker noticed several cows milling about with bottles in their hands. Farm hands, Barker assumed. Mona used the acres as more than a front for her business, whatever that may have been.  

    “Stay focused on the path. This is a functioning farm and sometimes mishaps will occur.” Nectar pointed toward a pile of something not quite seeming to be mud.  

   Barker avoided the area. Sometimes farmhands were not the cleanest of people. The wooden stairs to the ranch home were new. A water-sealed pine freshly built within the last year or two. The porch strung along the side of the home and out ten feet or more from the door. It disappeared around the edge like the old-time plantation homes. The thought of plantations made Barker sick. The unnecessary chaining of dogs was the reason his father had to rise-up in the first place. So many people tethered and forced to haul, guard, and serve. They called them their best-friends back then, but dogs were no friends to them. They were free labor.  

   The raccoon tapped with the back of his knuckles on the thick oaken door. A fresh coat of paint made it stand out from the rest of the dark stained wood. The vibrant blue made Barker think of the single time he had overseen the ocean. A soft voice called from behind the wood, muffled by the distance. Nectar turned to Barker one last time before entering.  

   “She does not like to talk about her condition. Pretend as if it does not exist and you will be better off for it.”  

   Waiting for no reply, the raccoon guided Barker through the door into a low-lit front room.  

   “Shoes off at the door,” a female voice called.  

   The shoes on Barker’s feet were worth a lifetime pay back when he was a small time detective under bird brains. Taking them off here was not something he was apt to do, but before he made another step off the welcoming rug, the voice, while still soft, grew stern.  

   “I ask for one thing,” she said.  

   Barker hesitated. They were just shoes. He had driven in a limo to the other side of the city and beyond, would he ruin the mood by refusing a simple request? Looking down at the shiny black surface, Barker adjusted his collar, and then slid the shoes from his feet. Nectar was already out ahead, guiding Barker when he no longer needed the guidance. The woman was in the far corner of the room nearby the fireplace. Her back was turned toward them, staring into the flames. A knitted blanket draped over her lap as Barker drew closer, he could see the woman knitted it herself. The two needled prongs in her hands moved with some speed, even as Barker could see the frailness of her fingers.  

   “Take a seat beside me, Mayor.” Her eyes landed on a pale green oval shaped chair embroidered with yellow daisy flowers. Barker figured she had made the chair herself too.  

    “I will say it is strange to be sitting next to a ghost. How long have you been hiding away here?” Barker did not take the seat. He walked to the fireplace and adjusted his collar in one of the trophies along the self. Many of them were for horse racing. Not only did this woman still employ farmhands like the old times, but she trained and bred horses for games. It was amazing what some people would stoop to for money.  

   “It has been many years since I needed to show my face. My name usually does enough these days. I am to understand that my friend’s plan did not sway you?”  

   Barker did not turn to confirm, but he could imagine her eyes flickering to the servant in the corner. He would shy away. His bravery ended the moment the charade played out.  

   “I was a detective far too long for such simple means to fool me. Living on the streets of Urgway as a young pup taught me well.”  

   Eyes bore into him from behind. He could feel the heat of the woman’s stare. She tried to figure him out. Get to the bottom of who Barker truly was. It was a waste of time for her. Barker had hidden in his own skin for so long, it was hard for him to tell where the mask ended sometimes. How many of his opinions were even his own anymore? What did he truly believe? Was there a visage of the young man he had once been trying to claw to the surface? Barker doubted it. That boy was dead. His hopes made it so. Living big meant Barker had to sacrifice a lot to get there.  

   “No question, your detective skills are superb. I have great knowledge of your feats in not only the local PD, but also the mayor’s unit. How is our old friend The Mayor doing?”  

   The image of the massive gorilla in his cell looking like a scorned child crossed Barker’s mind. Easily thwarted and made to look like a fool. Why had no one done it earlier? Power had a strange way of making someone seem bigger than they truly were. A stepping stone for those to stand on to peer over the shoulder of others. Men and women who were great thinkers were not always great leaders. It took a sense of self that could stomp on others to lead. Pushing someone off a cliff just to stand over them was an inherent ability of political and world rulers.  

   “He has surely seen his better days. He is not dead though. As it appears you are not either.” Barker fixed his collar again. Still not flipping himself around to stare at the woman. He could still hear her needles clacking together. For all he tried to appear nonchalant, she played the same game. Who would break first?  

   “I am sure he has.” She let the words hang in the air. Her needles clicking together faster and faster.  

   There was a moment Barker thought she would not speak again. Dragging him all the way out here just to toy with him. His instinct was to whirl and condemn her. Then, he remembered the tug of war they played at.  

    Waiting turned from a minute into two, then five, and ten. It had been a waste of time. Barker should have been on the flight back to Urgway. There was a meeting with the white fox already planned for tomorrow. If he did not leave soon, then he would not be able to catch another flight until morning. Turning, not toward the woman, but toward the door, Barker started out of the room.  

   “A long walk back into town.” The woman chuckled.  

    There was nothing humorous in Barker’s mind. He whirled around and showed his teeth, not bothering to appear cordial.  

   “What do you want with me? Why bring me here to play more games?”  

    “To teach you patience. You stumble around the city with your paws mucking up the water. You have potential, but you move in a way that disturbs the balance. Do you know why your father was eventually subdued? Why he could not rule forever.”  

   Barker did not put his canines away, if anything he bared them even further. The raccoon woman in the chair looked limp and feeble. Both of her eyes were the gray of blindness. She had not looked up at him because it would have done no good for her to. The stupid display of a threat was just that, stupid. Barker let his lips relax and his teeth slip behind the folds of his lips. Nectar gave a smile and a nod. Realization of Barker’s understanding of his current situation.  

   “Are you ready to sit and chat, Mayor Barker?”  

   The woman continued her clacking, but Barker no longer felt the strong urge to yell or condemn her for it. A soothing tool for a dying woman. He would allow her the frivolous activity.  

   “What do you want to tell me?”  

   Barker was still not sure this would benefit him in any certain way. When he had gotten into the car, this was not what he expected. What had he expected though? An alliance. What better person to align with than one who could appear dead, be meek, and still command such power?  

   “Sit,” the woman said.  

   Barker looked to the second chair nearby the fire and walked to it, gently lowering himself into the soft cushion.  

*** 

   Lawrence, Mona’s butler’s real name, brought Barker another glass of tea. The time had fallen off the clock as they chatted about the world. Mona was an exquisite conversationalist. The way she dove into subject after subject made Barker long for his informal years. Her words elicited excitement for learning in ways his teachers never could.  

   Mona informed him of the necessary measures for having a fall man. Hence why Lawrence went to all her meetings with the special seal of her name. The world may have thought she was dead, but all those in the right places knew the truth of it. If anything ever fell around them, then Mona would still be out here on the farm. Lawrence would not be so lucky, but he was paid handsomely to take the risks.  

   “So, you believe my father was the fall man? For the Mayor.” Barker knew the gorilla’s name, but it still felt odd to refer to him that way in common conversation. To Barker, and to the world, he would always be The Mayor.  

   “I am saying it did not hurt to have the Canes sniffing around at his heels. Most of the decisions he made, the bills he signed, and the warrants he left unfilled were at the behest of your father. When the bricks tumbled and the dust settled, only one of the two men were still standing. The Mayor was not the leader of the faction, but he had his fall guy. Your father had things backwards.”  

   It made sense. The Canes had fallen overnight by Vulpecula’s father’s hands. One poke and the house of cards floated off in the wind. The Mayor still stood as the dust settled though. Taller than anyone had the right to stand. Barker had some things to think about. Mona Eyes had not survived in this business for as long as she did without gaining some intelligence.  

   “Why are you willing to pass all of this down to me? What benefit do you have for it?”  

   Tapping on her legs, she turned and sat the saucer of her own still full glass of tea onto the table. Barker noticed she had not bothered to take a sip, no matter how much the butler encouraged her to do so. Lawrence had been less than forthcoming about her health as well as his position. Barker would assume this woman had less than a year to live.  

   “I am not a young woman any longer. Soon, the ruse will be up. I will truly be dead, or invalid. Whichever comes first, let the Animal Gods treat me well.” A quick look to the heavens made Barker uncomfortable. Religion had no business in matters of criminal business. If there were gods, they would not smile upon the acts of Barker or Mona. “When I die, the enterprise will fall to the wayside. Lawrence, here, is a good man. He would try his best to keep it afloat. If not only for his own pockets, but for his love of me. I cannot afford to let the flow of money stop though. Not even after I am gone. You see there are people who depend on me for their livings. Children, women, sick, poor. They all have need of the coin I am able to send to them. Not all I do is in the dark. The charitable work is run by a very real service in West Acera. I would like to see it continue. I never had any children of my own, but I see this as my legacy left behind.” Talking so much clearly exerted more energy than she had left in her feeble body.  

   “And you would have me do?” Barker checked his watch. It was time to wrap the conversation. No matter how enlightened he felt after her teachings, he knew it was for the best of them both that he to get back onto the road.  

   “Obvious, isn’t it? I would have you learn everything you can of the business and take it over. Your mind and my network, you could be bigger than even your father.”  

   Unexpected. When Barker woke up this morning, he never dreamed of meeting the biggest criminal shareholder in Acera. The Mayor of Acera had been his biggest target for this city. Having him meant he had the bills and the votes. Having Mona, meant he had the resources to topple the city if he so desired.  

   “You would have me do this why?”  

   Mona sighed, but not a frustrated sigh. She sounded tired, spent, and beaten.  

   “I am no longer young enough to train someone from the beginning. I must find a man to guide who already has their own knowledge and resources. You have started to build something, Barker. Now it is time to throw those into the pot and make something more.”  

   It made sense. She had things she wanted to live on after her. Barker needed what she could provide him.  

   “And all I do is keep your charities alive?” 

   A nod answered where words could not.  

   “What if I lied and did not do it after you passed?”  

   A weak smile crept over her face. Long ago, her teeth had lost the points of her species. Her long black fingers were now more a gray, but they moved to wipe at the side of her tearing eye. Her physical body may have been dying, but Mona was still alive emotionally.  

   “I would have to hope you are a man of your word. For, if we have no honor, what do we have?”  

   Pausing, Barker thought of what he was about to jump into. Was this for the best? He had started his own foundation, but Mona had a ground level ready for him to cease. Not to mention her vault of knowledge on staying underground.  

   “You have my word,” Barker said and extended his hand.  

   Mona reached for him and Barker noticed he had worn her much more than he assumed. He met her more than halfway and shook her hand softly.  

*** 

   Back at the airport, Barker said his goodbyes. The butler, while not rude, didn’t have much to say on any topic Barker tried to breach with him.  

   Upon exiting, Lawrence handed Barker a notebook.  

   “Read it, learn it, then burn it.”  

   Barker flipped the notebook over, hand in hand. The writing was small and sloppy. It was clearly Mona’s own personal resources. Barker tucked it away into a briefcase and locked it. That was a job for home, not an overcrowded airport.  

   Lawrence, without saying goodbye, peeled away, heading back toward the roadway. Barker had enough time if he hurried to catch the red eye home. He would be tired in the morning, due to having to stay up all night and work on Vulpecula’s case, but he would survive.  

   “Could I have a word with you?”  

   An annoying voice called for Barker. Maybe it wouldn’t have been annoying, but Barker needed to get to the counter and the man was impeding his process.  

   “What do you want?”  

   “Name is Logan Norms. I was wondering if I could have a word?”  

   Barker laughed. Did everyone have a secret enterprise in Acera?  

   “Walk with the me to the counter.”  

   Without making time, Barker let Logan Norms fall into line beside him. Judging from his attire, the man was either a liar and not a reporter, or a very well off reporter. Barker did not mention his observation, but let Logan pull his notebook from his breast pocket and jot down something with his golden fountain pen.  

   “Is it true you have just come from meeting Mona Eyes?”  

   Barker did stop now. The curl of a sneer was present on Logan’s face like a bad headache the night after drinking. It made Barker unsure, uneasy, not afraid but alarmed.  

   “Mona Eyes? Strange question. Is she not deceased?”  

   Logan flicked his tongue over his lips flashing white, pristine teeth behind. The man took good care of himself. A good figurehead to put at the top of a company. Not a reporter, but something more. Barker scanned the man’s hands again. Manicured, well-shaped nails lined groomed fingertips. Too much money for a beat reporter. Barker reached up and adjusted his collar. He did not have the time to fiddle with another of Acera’s finest. Mona had already taken up too much of his time, but something drew him in about Logan Norms. Something told him this was the man he needed in Acera, the front, the face.  

   “I have it on good authority she is very much alive,” Logan said.  

   “Who’s authority would that be?”  

   Barker was interested in the answer. What lie would Logan come up with on the spot? Or had he been planning this since seeing Barker leave with the raccoon butler earlier in the day?  

   “My own authority.” Logan’s sneer grew wider. He was a self-appreciative man for certain.  

   “I find my time here short.” Barker glanced toward the electronic boards above them. The last flight left in thirty minutes. With enough cash, Barker could still make the plane. Someone else may be staying overnight in Acera, but if he moved now it wouldn’t have to be him. “There is a seat across from my desk in Urgway. Two days hence. If you make it, then you can have your interview. Maybe you will get a scoop of a lifetime.”  

   Barker didn’t stick around for an answer. He adjusted his collar and slipped back into the moving crowd. Even this late at night, an airport like the one in Acera kept going. Logan didn’t chase him down. Barker stopped at the reception desk and moved to explain his need for a ticket when the woman behind the counter pulled an envelope marked with his name.  

   “Compliments of Miss Eyes,” the woman said and gave a wink.  

   Barker grabbed the ticket from her outstretched palm. Mona Eyes was a crafty woman. Barker liked her. With some haste, hoping to be settled before the plane lurched off the ground, Barker made for the terminal. He would spend the entire flight back marking up a case file for Vulpecula in the morning. Afterward, he would think on his newfound partnership. Acera had been quite the eventful trip it turned out.