The Sound and the Furry by Spencer Quinn

Author:Spencer Quinn [Quinn, Spencer]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Mystery & Detective, General, Thrillers, Suspense
ISBN: 9781476703268
Publisher: Simon and Schuster
Published: 2013-09-10T04:00:00+00:00

EIGHTEEN

Oh, no,” Fleurette said. “No, no, no.” She backed away from the bed, hands pressing her face like she was holding it together. She looked at Bernie, then at me, and Bernie again. All kinds of changes went on behind her eyes. She spun on her heel—one of the cooler human moves, in my opinion—and strode toward the door, like she was out of here and that was that: probably not in the cards, on account of how we do things at the Little Detective Agency when dead bodies are in the picture.

Sure enough, Bernie blocked her way. She tried to cut around him, but I got there first. Blocking someone’s way was a fun game I liked to play from time to time, or actually just about any time.

“Who are you?” Fleurette said, backing up. “Let me go. You have no right.”

“Have to do better than that,” Bernie said.

Her eyes narrowed in that squinting look humans sometimes show you, never a pleasant sight—undoing the whole heel-spinning thing in a way I couldn’t even begin to understand, so I didn’t waste a moment on it—and said, “I’ve seen you before, right? At Rooster Red’s?”

“Nice try,” Bernie said.

“What do you mean?” Fleurette said. “Now I remember distinctly—you had a beer with Dr. Ory just the other day.”

“True as far as it goes,” Bernie said.

“I don’t understand,” said Fleurette. “And you’re starting to scare me.”

Bernie glanced over his shoulder at Mack, lying on the mattress, the needle still sticking out of his arm. I wished Bernie would take it out. “You weren’t scared already, Fleurette?”

“I was. I am. I’m scared out of my mind.”

“You’ll have to get past that,” Bernie said. “There’s not much time.”

“For what?”

“Let’s start with Cleotis.”

“Cleotis? I don’t know any—”

Bernie’s voice didn’t get louder, but it changed in a way that made it seem bigger and way harder to ignore—not that I’d ever think of ignoring Bernie—and got the fur on the back of my neck to stand up a bit. A furry thing like that happening, all from just the sound of him. That was us. We’re a good team, me and Bernie, as a lot of perps could tell you. What he actually said I sort of missed. It might have been: “Start with what he told you about me.” Or something like that.

Fleurette shook her head, so hard that her ponytail kept swinging after her head had gone still. I came very close to asking myself if the same . . . something or other. “He—he didn’t mention you,” Fleurette said. “I don’t even know your name.”

Bernie gave her a long look. “Bernie Little,” he said. “And this is Chet.”

She shot me a sidelong glance. “Normally I like dogs.”

“That’ll work perfectly with Chet,” Bernie said. He handed Fleurette our card. “We’ve been hired to find Ralph Boutette. Any idea where he is?”

“Ralph Boutette? Is he lost? I don’t understand.”

“How well do you know him?”

“Ralph? Enough to say hello to on the street, but I can’t even remember the last time I saw him.

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