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Chapter Eight: Tequila Sunrise

Detective Flynn finished her report on the Kit Kat Klub fiasco and sat back from her desk with a sigh. She had tried to make it sound like it was her fault that they had mistaken Dixie Lee for a prostitute, but she knew that it would not make any difference in Ryan’s suspension. As the supervising Detective it was his responsibility to confirm the likelihood of guilt before ordering the seizure of the club’s records and the arrest of the Manager. As Lieutenant Lawson, and Ryan himself, had pointed out to her though, it was Ryan’s eagerness to hurt Gunderson’s organization that led to the premature arrests. Nothing she said now about the incident could change that or help his case.

She briefly considered rewriting that part to de-emphasize her roll in the identification of the feline as a Furry rather than an Anthro, just for the sake of her own career, but shook her head and hit ‘send’ instead. The harsh reality was that the mayor wanted Anthros in diverse positions so, short of openly admitting to a crime, her job as a Detective was probably secure and, at the same time, a dead end. She was sure that the position of Supervising Detective on the Club and Cabaret Squad would be left absent while the investigation into Ryan’s actions was ongoing, and after that? They would probably leave it unfilled and have me work the circuit alone until I decide to quit or retire, she supposed.

Flynn shut off her terminal and heaved herself away from the desk. She had already applied for four days off before the shit had hit the fan and Lawson, who she now reported to, had not cancelled it since taking over the duties of her supervisor. It was like Ryan had said, she mused, no one was in a rush to see the Club and Cabaret Squad back out on the street.

She left the building, still using the stairs because she did not want to be stuck in an elevator with the likes of Raymond Brown. Outside, she saw their duty vehicle where Ryan had left it. Out of curiosity she approached it and tapped the unlock function on her comms device. She was slightly surprised to find that it worked when the driver’s door lifted up and out of the way.

She slid in and the door closed automatically when the seat registered her weight. Placing her hands on the wheel triggered the auto-adjust feature. The seat moved forward and raised to accommodate her small stature, according to the measurements in her records. The manual operation pedals even adjusted their angle to match her canine paws.

The vehicle could be set to automatic, of course, but she had a driving permit; every Police Officer had to qualify for one in case they needed to operate a duty vehicle in a cyber emergency, even the Anthros. She left the vehicle on manual, as Ryan had last set it, and headed for her apartment.

Even a cop car would not be safe in her neighbourhood if left unattended on the street, but she had an unused parking spot in the basement garage, a holdover from better days in this neighbourhood. She had considered renting it out, but since her building was mainly Anthros, most of which could not drive or afford a vehicle, there was no demand. Other than some garbage that someone had tossed on the floor, her spot and the ones on either side of it were empty. That was a good thing, as she had not much practice parking since the Academy.

The elevator was still not working, so she took the stairs. Maybe one day, she thought, they would find an Anthro working in the elevator maintenance field and trade repairs for some other service. Barter trade was not uncommon in the Anthro community, where Humans owned all the businesses but Anthros did all the work. As long as there were no expensive or restricted parts needed one could trade almost any skill for something someone needed.

Back in her apartment Flynn went through the ritual of locking half the locks at random before turning around and removing her suit and vest. Feeling suddenly warm she plucked at her blouse. A quick check of the data console negated her assumption that the air conditioning had gone out again. The apartment, according to the display, should have felt rather chilly, yet the uncomfortable feeling of being too hot was only spreading.

Damn it, she cursed under her breath, damn heat has started already. Well, at least it didn’t happen at the station when I was surrounded by Human males.

Now she had a dilemma on her hands. Clark was still out of town and she had not followed up with Chase after their aborted dinner date. It looked like it would be another night watching the porn channel and destroying an under-ripe cucumber … if she even had any in the fridge. She had been so busy at the Station that she had been neglecting domestic chores like cleaning and shopping for groceries.

A quick glance confirmed that that the stiffest thing she had was some questionable asparagus.

Maybe she could take a warm bath and set up something with her former Tactical Squad colleague for tomorrow, she thought, depending which shift he was on. On the off chance that Chase was on duty she called up the Tactical Squad’s duty number.

“Detective Flynn here.” She said, although it was unnecessary, her identification would have shown on the Dispatcher’s display automatically. “I’m looking for Officer Chase of Tactical.”

She bit her lip as the line went blank. A few seconds later the slightest difference in tone indicated that she had been connected with the Tactical Squad Room.

“Officer Chase.” His familiar voice announced.

Flynn breathed a sigh of relief; at least she would not have to explain to Chase’s supervisor why she wanted to talk to one of his squad members.

“Chase. Flynn here. I just, you know, wanted to apologise for missing dinner with you the other night.”

“Hey, no problem.” He replied, sounding relieved himself. “I was going to call you about a rain check, but then I picked up an extra shift after Thrasher went on medical leave for a few days. You remember Thrasher?”

“Oh, yeah. How could I forget. Worst breath on the Squad. I guess his eating habits caught up with him.”

“Uh, no.” Chase’s voice had gone serious. “He caught a bullet on a dockside raid two nights ago. I guess you didn’t hear about it with … with all that was going on with you and Ryan.”

“Jesus, Chase! I’m sorry to hear that. Is he going to be okay?”

“Oh yeah, yeah. Just grazed him really. We were all teasing him about getting a wound metal for such a small scratch.” The line was silent for a long pause before Chase continued. “Another bit to the left though, and he could have been sent to the farm.”

Sent to the farm, Flynn shuddered. It was a phase popular among the canines that meant to die. She had no idea where it had come from.

Then she remembered why she was calling and gathered her nerves.

“So, Chase, you picked up his shift. How long are on for?”

“Just yesterday and today.” He paused, as if checking something. “Yeah, I get off in an hour, then my regular shift doesn’t start for another four days. Why?” His voice became hopeful. “You thinking of joining me for dinner tomorrow night?”

“Actually, I’m off for four days myself. I’m at home now. Maybe … maybe you could grab some take out when you get off and join me here?”

“Sure! Anything you say, Flynn. Should I, uh, stop by the liquor store and grab some wine too?”

“No, I’ve got plenty of that … but Chase … you might want to stop by the drug store and pick up some protection … if you know what I mean.”

Flynn counted to five as the gears in poor innocent Chase’s head did their work.

“What? Oh … OH yeah. Okay, Flynn, I’ll uh, see you in a couple of hours.”

Good boy, she said to herself and told him where she lived before he could hang up on her in his eagerness. Then she shut off her comms device and headed for the shower. She wanted to be fresh and well groomed before she fucked the poor pup’s brains out.

* * * * * * * *

Ryan woke up as the sun was coming up, confused and disoriented. It wasn’t the first time that he had woken up in an unfamiliar place. It had happened quite often before he went to rehab, but it had never involved silk sheets or a fancy bedroom before. He sniffed his armpit … or being so clean.

He recognized it as Dixie’s bedroom when he saw her standing at the foot of the bed. She was wearing a black slip that was all but transparent and she was obviously naked under it. She was also holding a tray with a steaming pot of coffee and a glass bowl filled with a viscous yellow substance mixed with some dark liquid. It smelled slightly like sulphur. Ryan was afraid that it he might have become involved in some sort of Satanic Furry blood ritual.

Dixie saw him staring at the bowl and enlightened him.

“Raw eggs and Worcestershire sauce.” She announced. “Along with copious amounts of coffee, it’s the perfect cure for hangovers. Believe me, I put a lot of time and effort into perfecting this formula.”

She set the tray on the night table. Ryan looked at the vile concoction, then looked up at her and asked the question that a million drunks before him had posed after a blackout drinking session.

“How did I get here?”

She shrugged. “Taxi? Ride Share? Fly? How the fuck would I know? Drink it up before it clots.”

Ryan choked back half of the egg mixture then chugged half a mug of coffee, burning his lips in the process but not feeling it through the pounding of his head. He finished the eggs in several swallows, alternating with sips of coffee until it was time for a refill.

“I think I’m going to puke.” He said, fighting to keep the concoction down.

“You did that already.” Dixie informed him. “In the kitchen sink, and all over your clothes. I had to get the Doorman to help me put you in the tub before I could scrub you down.”

Ryan’s face turned red. He had only just realized that he was naked. “The Doorman … saw me like this?”

“He’s seen worse … or better, depending on your point of view. Anyways, his Christmas bonus just went wayyyy up.”

She took the empty bowl from him and poured a second mug of coffee.

“You remember why you came here?” She asked, a touch nervously.

Ryan had to think about it for a minute. The sound of drums in his head was receding but hey were still a significant distraction.

“I wanted to ask you about something … something I found at a murder scene.”

“Fifty points for … for whoever those old wizarding books were about.” She produced the paper he had taken from his shoe, unfolded it to show him the list of names that included hers. “I had just agreed to tell you about it after a shower and a nap when you started spewing all over my kitchen and passed out.” She tilter her chin at the mug he was holding between his hands. “You need more of that before I go on?”

“No. I remember now. I fucked up. Got suspended. But not before I found that list in a dead CI’s hidey hole.” He looked up at her standing beside the bed. “What’s it mean, Dixie?”

She sat down on the edge of the mattress beside him. “Hmmph. No ‘Oh, Dixie, how could you?’, no ‘What evil are you plotting with that Norwegian pig?’, or shit like that? Well, I’ll give you credit, you’re not as much of an asshole as most of the cops I’ve had the pleasure of knowing. Still, you did barge in here with a false ID and puke all over my granite counter tops.”

The slightest of smiles came to his lips. “I thought you said that I threw up in the sink?”

“What can I say? Your aim sucks.”

“So,” he said after taking another sip of coffee, “are you going to tell me what that list is?”

“This list,” She said waving the paper in front of his nose, “is a list of Furries that Gunderson tried to get into his breeding program. You remember me mentioning that to you?”

“Yeah. Seemed like a pretty personal proposition to be making to some random client of his club.”

Dixie threw her head back, closed her eyes and sighed before continuing. “I used to party with the big Viking, hell, I used to party with everybody. But after a couple of quickies in his office at the club he lost interest. He’s not the type to form attachments, you know what I mean? Anyways, About a year later he comes to me with a proposal. He’ll pay me decent money to be part of some breeding program he’s organizing. Something about quick pregnancies and no motherly duties after the birth. It sounded suspicious to me, besides, even an eight-week pregnancy would cramp my style, no drinking or partying allowed after conception you know. I turned him down.”

“That’s why your name is crossed out.” He mused before looking back to her. “And the other names?”

“Furry ladies of my acquaintance, sort of. Like me, they liked to party too, although most didn’t have a trust fund to fall back on. The other ones that are crossed off didn’t need his money and probably turned him down too. The rest … let’s just say that they were already making a living in a similar fashion, and the offer to get fucked once but collect two months pay, and more, while being taken care of would likely sound good to them.”

Ryan cocked his head to one side. “Why would Gunderson want to breed Furries? He can get all the Anthros he needs to fill his clubs from overseas and using Furries as anything more than strippers or legitimate massage providers would put his whole organization at risk.”

Dixie shrugged. “Fucked if I know. Since I turned him down it’s the last I’ve heard of it.”

“Would you be willing to find out?”

“Huh?” Her eyes went narrow and her whiskers stuck straight out as she wrinkled her nose. “What are you asking me?”

“Look.” He said sitting up in her bed. “I know that you don’t owe me anything, but I could really use a break here. The Mayor and his cronies, your father included, are after my ass, probably to take the pressure of Gunderson. My only chance of redeeming myself is to get something on him. Furry breeding might not sound like much, but if I know the old Viking it’s likely to be illegal, and there must be profit in it somewhere.”

Dixie sat on the bed beside him and stared at him intently.

“My father, Aaron Li, is pressuring the Police Department to get rid of you?”

“He was at the Station when they brought me in.”

She shook her head. “Son of a bitch. He wouldn’t get involved unless it was something personal.”

“How could it be personal?”

She sighed. “He’s paid off building employees before to report on my activities and who I’ve been sleeping with. I thought that I had paid them enough to lie to him but obviously not.”

She paused to pull a cigarette and lighter out of the bedside table. “You see,” she said as she lit it, “the reason my daddy is mad at you is because he’s jealous; he wants to be the only one between my legs.” She exhaled a puff of blue-white smoke and shook her head again. “As if he wasn’t there enough when I was growing up.”

“Thinking about it makes you nervous.” Ryan said. It was not a question.

“Yeah.” She confirmed. “It does.”

Ryan plucked the cigarette from her mouth, stubbed it out on the marble night tabletop and threw back the covers of the bed.

“Come here.”

Dixie complied, letting Ryan guide her in so her back was against his chest. He could feel her tail thwapping nervously against his legs as he wrapped his arms around her.

“Don’t worry about a thing.” He said softly in her ear. “I’ll figure something out.”

She snuggled against him, rested her head on one of his arms and clutched the other, which was across her chest. After a few moments her tail went still and he heard something that sounded like soft purring coming from deep in her chest.

They lay like that for a time, both eventually falling asleep.

* * * * * * * *

Flynn woke up late in the morning with a deep sense of satisfaction. Feeling the hairy form in bed beside her she remembered why. Chase had shown all the exuberance and stamina of a young pup the night before, and a couple of times early this morning, she reminded herself as a smile crept across her face. It was a good way to unwind after a stressful few days.

He had showed up at her door with an armload of Chinese food, acting nervous and shy. Flynn guessed that he had not done this type of thing much before. That was okay, neither had she.

To put him at ease she had poured him a glass of wine while she laid out the food on the coffee table. There was easily enough for six people. She impressed him by reading off all the names of the dishes, which were written in the containers only in Chinese.

“You know Chinese?” He had asked between mouthfuls.

“I’m studying it.” She had replied. “Ordering food is the first set of lessons, but that’s about as far as I’ve gotten so far.”

Her had looked puzzled. “Why?” He had asked. “Why are you learning Chinese?”

“Detectives with language skills get the better assignments,” she had explained, “and there are a lot of Chinese immigrants in the city since the South-East China Sea Pact broke up.

She had seen him frown and shake his head wearily when he thought she wasn’t looking and knew that he thought she was wasting her time.

Perhaps I am being a little naive, she remembered thinking, but I’m not about to let it ruin a good date.

She had put her plate aside and leapt over the low table at him at that point.

He was an inexperienced but eager lover, she discovered. One of the few canines she knew that preferred the intimacy of making love face-to-face instead of the more conventional ‘doggie style’. He didn’t even mind when she rolled him over on his back there on the living room floor and lay on top of him.

She liked it that way, with her breasts pressed against his chest as she slid back and forth on his cock, of being able to kiss his face and lick his muzzle and cuddle without disengaging.

Then, when he was near to exhaustion, his balls well and truly drained, she taught him how to use his tongue and his fingers on her as a substitute for his cock, or to warm her up when she wasn’t in heat, she informed him.

“We get to do this when you’re not in heat?” He had raised his head and gasped.

“If you play your cards right.” She had assured him.

Hours later, after snacking on cold garlic ribs and General Tao’s chicken, they had put the leftovers in the fridge, washed the sticky sauce from their fur and moved to the bedroom for more.

And now it was almost noon, her fridge was full, her heat was satisfied, there was a warm body in bed next to her and life was about good as it ever got in the Rundown Downtown.

She shook Chase’s shoulder gently.

“Hey champ, you getting up anytime soon?”

“Mmmgh. Maybe. What’s for breakfast?”

“That’s not exactly what I meant.” She joked as she reached around and caressed his thigh.

“God, not again.” He laughed. “Not without sustenance. Seriously, what do you have to eat?”

Males, she thought. There were only two things they ever thought about – sex and food – and Chase had had plenty of the former last night.

“We didn’t touch the egg drop soup.” She said, swinging her legs out from under the covers. “It’s the closest thing to breakfast we have in the fridge. I can reheat it.”

“Sounds good to me.” He said sitting up on the edge of the bed on the other side. He raised one arm and sniffed, then exhaled into his hand and sniffed it too. “God, Flynn, you’re harder on a dog than the Academy obstacle course. You mind if I use your shower?”

“Feel free.” She told him, remembering that she kept emergency supplies for when Clark visited. “There’s towels on the shelf in there and a spare toothbrush in the drawer.”

“Thanks.” He said over his shoulder. She could hear the sounds of urination through the door as she put on her robe, followed by a flush of the toilet. She had observed that male canines tended to need to pee more frequently than females, whereas the opposite was supposed to be the norm in Humans, according to the few Human females she had known on the Tactical Squad. She wondered why as she walked to the kitchen and started looking in the fridge for the soup.

She set it to simmer until Chase joined her some twenty minutes later. He had put his shirt and underwear back on but he had only towelled dry and not used her hair dryer, so his fur was sticking out comically around his neck and head. They laughed about that and mode other small talk while sipping their soup.

“So,” Chase said, a little tentatively, “what are you up to for the rest of the day?”

Flynn put her empty bowl down and leaned across the kitchen table. “I was going to take a shower, change the sheets on the bed … and fuck you silly again. Why? You have other plans?” She joked.

“Actually … yes.”

Her eyes widened in surprise. Maybe I’ve overestimated my power of allure, she pondered before regaining her composure.

“Oh, Really?’ She asked. “What?”

“All personnel from the Tactical Squad have been invited to a ceremony that the Mayor’s office is throwing to commemorate us as the first Police unit to be fully integrated.” Chase told her. “I was going to go, all the off-duty officers are expected to attend actually, but I’d rather spend the day with you. I’ll call my Sergeant and say that my mother is sick and that I have to take care of her.”

A thought entered Flynn’s head.

“The Mayor’s office, eh? I suppose the Brass from the Force will be there too?”

“Sure.” Chase confirmed. “The police Commissioner will be there, as well as the Chief of Police, all the Deputy Chiefs …”

“Including Chief of Detectives Fanning?” Flynn mused.

Chase shrugged. “I guess so. Technically he is a Deputy Chief. Maybe he’ll even be the big Chief some day.”

Flynn made a decision.

“You know, Chase, as much fun as you are to have around, we can’t spend four days cooped up in here. We should get out for a few hours a day at least. Are you allowed a plus one at this shindig?

“Sure am.”

“Good, lets go socialize a bit then.”

* * * * * * * *

Two hours later Flynn found herself freshly showered and brushed, wearing her best three-piece suit and sipping something cheap and bubbly out of a tall wine glass.

Looking around at the upper-class Human and Furry ladies in their fashionable skirts or form-fitting dresses she wished that someone would start making stylish clothing to fit Anthro bodies. Then she realized that they did … they just sold them all to the strippers and hookers in the clubs. Maybe next time she inspected one of the better places she could make some inquiries.

Chase was standing beside her, dressed in his tactical uniform, chatting with a Police Captain that had been a Tactical Officer in his younger days.

“How come you canines and such aren’t dressed the same as the rest of the cops?” The partially inebriated Captain asked, sweeping a arm around the room to indicate the preponderance of dress blues.

She saw the corners of Chase’s mouth turn down, even though his tone remained light.

“They don’t have dress uniforms for Anthro officers.” He told the Captain. “None of the contractors want to make small lots of specialized cuts.” He pointed out the difference between the canines, the horses and several other large species that worked tactical. “No budget for it either, I guess.”

“Yes, everyone has to consider the budget.” The Captain, who probably had no Anthros under his command Flynn guessed, said and nodded his head sagely, as if that settled the point. “Keep that in mind young, uh … man … and you’ll go far on the Force.”

Chase smiled and bowed his head in thanks for the advice as the Captain wandered back to the drinks table.

“Dickhead.” He mumbled as he took another sip from his glass. Then he brightened up. “I guess that’s enough of an appearance to keep the boss happy.” He said. “You about ready to go?”

“Just give me a couple of minutes.” Flynn told him. She had just spotted Chief Fanning across the room, and for once, Lieutenant Lawson was nowhere in sight.

Grabbing Chase by the hand she pulled him across the room, timing her approach to catch Fanning between smooging a politician and the approach of a Detective Captain that probably wanted a new assignment.

“Chief Fanning!” she said as if surprised by his presence. “What a pleasant surprise.”

“Flynn.” He replied rather coldly, his brow dropping as he recalled her role in his recent troubles. “What are you doing here?”

She tugged Chase, who had been hovering behind her, up between them.

“This is Chase.” She told Fanning. “He’s on the tactical Squad.”

Fanning rolled his eyes and she bit her lip. It was obvious from his uniform that her date was on the Tactical Squad, but she continued regardless.

“He invited me to join him … and here I am!”

Several other people more important than her were trying to catch the Chief’s attention, and Fanning had already lost interest in what, to him, seemed like just another junior Detective trying to curry favour with the boss.

“Well, enjoy yourself.” Fanning said distractedly as he tried to decide who to give his attention to next. “Nice to see you.”

“It’s nice to see you too, Chief.” Flynn said as she maneuvered herself between some senior Detectives and Fanning. “I just wanted to ask you, though, why you sent Lieutenant Lawson to see me instead of asking me to keep an eye on Detective Sergeant Ryan yourself.”

Fanning shook his head. “Sorry, what?”

“You had Lawson pass on all your instructions about reporting on Ryan’s movements.” She said quickly as senior officers began to push their way past her. “I understand reporting through him, but you could have told me yourself when you interviewed me for the position.”

Fanning stared at her for a moment before the clutching hands of other supplicants began to pull him away.

“Just the standard protocol.” The big man said before he was sucked into the crowd.

Flynn and Chase were left standing there in the middle of the room.

“Can we go now?” Chase asked insistently. “While I still have a job?”

“Yeah, let’s go.” Flynn said absently, as she tried to figure out whether she had seen worry or fear on the Chief’s face before he had disappeared behind a wall of ass kissers.