Chapter Text
You can call me Nick Wilde.
I am a private investigator, and a magic user. That is what it says on the door of my office and on my website, and that is what I tell anyone who asks. Most mammals in this town seem to think I am some sort of con-mammal, possibly because I am also a red fox, but they can not prove the con thing.
Right now, this early Monday morning, I am discussing a job with a someone that does not seem to care if mammals say I am a charlatan or not. She probably hopes I can help when no one else can or will, based on her scent and somewhat closed body language.
“Mrs. Otterton,” I said, after introductions were made, and she had sat down in front of my desk. “What can I do for you?”
Why did you come to this part of town to see me, in other words. I know there are other, more expensive PI’s, in the better parts of town, with whom she would certainly be more comfortable.
“I need you to find my husband,” she said, getting right to the point, like she’s done this before. “The police think he ran off with a mistress, but he would not do that.”
“OK, so you went to the police and they will not help?”
She nodded. “And then a friend suggested I hire a PI, so, I did that too.”
“If I may ask, who was it? “ I asked, unable to keep my surprise entirely out of my voice and expression. What does she think I do, make balloon animals? I mean, I can do that, but I do not do that much. “What did they say?”
“I will not say who, but the PI took the case yesterday, and then called, a few hours later, to tell me they could not do it, and that anyone would have to be crazy to get involved with magic. I saw your ad, and then talked to some friends about you, so I thought you would probably be willing to at least give it a try.”
Because of the magic thing? “So, these friends. Did they include a former client?”
“Yes, in a manner of speaking. One of my friends knows Mrs. Arbuckle. She apparently said you were very honest and thorough.”
I would not have expected her to recommend me, considering our past interactions. She thought her house was haunted, but I found no evidence of such. I actually gave her money back because there was nothing I could do for her.
It may seem odd, a private investigator that would do some work, and then return the money given for that work? I could have returned most of the money, after all, and kept an amount sufficient to cover my one hour of snooping. I did not do that because I do not actually need money, and I only work this job because it’s what I feel that normal mammals do.
“So, your husband. Tell me about him?”
“He is a good man, never hurt anyone….”
An hour later, I was outside my building, on the sidewalk, when I saw one of the mammals who appears to think I am some sort of fraud. I had the information I needed, a request for a followup, and the usual cash retainer for expenses, from my most recent client.
“Officer Hopps,” I said, and then started walking toward a nearby coffee shop. “What can I do for you today?”
“Fox! Did you promise to help Mrs. Otterton? You better not be conning her!” The rabbit said as she stalked toward me, trying to look as menacing as a relatively small, and fluffy, rabbit can in this sort of situation. She was wearing a sort of police uniform, not the standard one, but apparently something designed especially for smaller mammals, and meter maids, like her. She was wearing the standard hat and carrying the usual ticket machine.
She’s been showing up, every day or so, near my place of business, like this for the last month or so. I’m not sure precisely why, but she seems to think she needs to keep her eye on me.
“Straight to the point, OK,” I replied, still walking. “You know I can not reveal my clients’ information. There are privacy issued involved, so you will have to ask her if you want to know what is going on.”
I did not bother to point out that I am not conning anyone. I don’t do that sort of thing, usually. I mean, I do mislead mammals when they ask how dangerous magic is, but that is mainly for their benefit, not mine. Most days, I would rather just tell them the truth, if I thought they could handle it. I usually just assure them there is no danger and then do what I can to decrease that danger.
“Oh, I’m going to find out,” the rabbit said, sounding at least a little smug, and falling in beside me on the sidewalk. “I know Mrs. Otterton. She’s a friend!”
“It’s good to have friends,” I said, and gestured toward a coffee shop down the street. “Want anything? I was going to have a frap.”
We were walking, and she was speculating about how I might spend Mrs. Otterton’s money on either wine or hookers, when I saw her traffic thing. Technically, it is a trike, because it has three wheels, but it is the least like the normal squad cars of anything I have ever seen. I know I would never want to be seen driving it if I wanted other mammals to take me seriously in the future.
Which gave me an idea… It is parked on a hill, so I could adjust the parking break from here, without her noticing, with magic. I could get payback for the parking ticket she gave me last month, and she would leave me alone while she chased her vehicle down the slope. But I know the goddess Karma, personally, and I don’t think she’d approve.
Also, I had noticed something better.
“Rabbit, look!” I said and pointed to a meter between our location and the coffee shop. “Red means it’s expired, right?”
Giving me another glare, she started toward the overdue meter, getting her hand held ticket machine ready as she went. “I’ll get back to you!”
“OK,” I replied, and went into the shop.
Standing in line, I realized that my diversion had worked because she is dedicated to her job, silly uniform and ridiculous vehicle and all. Her dedication is admirable, really.