Page 13 of Hoofin’ It

My dad’s partner, a centaur blending a human and a tiger, waved from his spot near the door. I liked Winston Emmanuel. Few had no fear of my father’s disturbing strength, tendency to drool, and inclination for howling inappropriately in public. “Don’t tell Marshal this, but it’s a relief not having to rein in your old man for a change. It’s like they expect me to hold him back if he flips out.”

“They actually took vacation time?”

Hell had truly frozen over. Even when I’d lost my eye, my parents hadn’t taken any time off work. Granted, I held a certain amount of responsibility for that, resulting in early morning calls with my mother each and every day. This time, instead of a phone call, I expected her in person.

“When our chief gives strong suggestions, they’re not ignored. It’s all right. It’s not a suspension. It’s just a very flexible shift. One where they aren’t expected to show up at work unless called in. Now, the chief did suggest they’d get an invitation to the bust if it happened on our turf. That made them both quite happy for some reason.”

“Is he trying to make it a blood bath? Because that’s what’s going to happen, Winston.”

The tiger centaur chuckled. “When an ex-cop gets shot in a drive by, everyone wants a piece of that pie, Shane. So, we’re going to take it from the top and get to the bottom of this as quickly as possible. I very clearly heard your mother growl that you’d answer all our questions if we bought you that horrible Chinese. We did. You’re stuck with us now.”

“I don’t see why everyone hates this restaurant,” I complained. “I like it.”

My mother’s partner sighed and pointed at my dinner. “That ‘General Tao’s’ is overcooked chicken meat in hot sauce someone introduced to an orange that somehow turned out crunchy. It’s vile, Shane. Anyone who eats it loses their taste buds. They’re charred off. It doesn’t even taste like General Tao’s.”

I took a defiant bite of my dinner, which was rather crunchy and hotter than hell. “Maybe that’s why I like it.”

“You know the routine. How many cases in Chicago were you involved with that may have left someone behind wanting you dead?”

I missed being able to properly perform a dramatic roll of my eyes. Rolling one just didn’t cut it. “Possibly a few, but it’s a long hike to Nebraska just to kill a cop with a tendency to leave warnings rather than issue tickets. I let a lot get away with ten over, unlike half the department. There were a few domestic disturbance cases, but none of them were in any position to come hunting me here while wearing a suit. In fact, I’m pretty sure most of ‘em wouldn’t know what to do with a suit if you gave it to ‘em as a gift.”

“Ghetto jobs?”

“Mostly.”

“What about this alpaca of yours?”

“I picked Sally up in New York after a corpse fell from a skyscraper onto a car I was standing beside. She was tied up in the back seat. The NYPD would have put her down, so I claimed her and took her home. Granted, she’d been spitting mad and nailed one of the cops, but I’d be pretty angry, too, if I were hogtied in the back of a car with three corpses.”

“Any reason anyone in the car might have wanted you dead?”

“I sure hope not. Sally was the only living thing in the car. That’d be a pretty awkward situation. Driver’s neck broke when the corpse busted through the window-glass windshield. Passenger’s throat was cut open, but I’m willing to bet his neck broke, too.”

All four cops grimaced, and Winston sighed. “They never learn, do they?”

“They don’t get a chance to learn, since both times I’ve seen it, they died. No one stuck around, so I was the only witness questioned. My history with the Chicago police wasn’t brought up. I told them why I was in town, what I witnessed, and that I would take custody of the alpaca. Apparently, my mother has named her Sally. For the record, Sally is my alpaca, no matter what bullshit my mother attempts to feed you.”

My dad’s partner laughed. “How many jilted girlfriends do we have to consider as possible suspects?”

“None.”

“What do you mean by none? Even with the scar and false eye, you’re not a bad lookin’ gentleman, Shane. Surely you have a few girlfriends in the wings.”

Since killing my dad’s best friend and partner would probably land me in a lot of hot water, I settled for a one-eyed glare. I even closed my right eyelid so he could get a better look at my scar. “I’m the son of a werewolf, Winston. We have a reputation, and it’s not one the ladies like. And so help me, if a single one of you cracks a joke about my mom, I’ll demonstrate the many ways I can turn my chopsticks into lethal weapons.”

My mom’s partner grinned. “You’re so much fun when you’re high on painkillers and hopped up on the lycanthropy virus. You’re definitely cut from your father’s cloth, that’s for sure. And don’t underestimate the ladies. There are advantages to men with the lycanthropy virus—loyalty being one of them. I doubt even an incubus could get your father to cheat on your mother. The trick is waiting for the girls to want to settle down. That’s when the werewolves get the lion’s share of the bachelorette pool. It’s a guaranteed way to avoid most marital problems.”

“It’s like I have a second set of parents, they’re both male, and they’re as determined as my mother to have me explore the potential of the opposite gender.” I groaned and set my dinner aside. “It’s not that I wasn’t interested in finding someone—I am. I was just too busy in Chicago. The hours were crazy, especially since I had the lowest magic rating the force would allow. They’re more prejudiced against werewolves in Chicago, too.”

Winston sighed. “Of course they are. Here, either you’re infected, you’re related to someone who’s infected, or you want to be infected. Those outside of those groups either can’t be infected, like us centaurs, or don’t care either way. Lincoln, Nebraska. Werewolf Mecca.”

Thinking about my utter lack of a love life depressed me. “I figured I’d do my time on the force before thinking about settling down. Actually, I think I was hoping to meet someone on the force but in a different department, but it turned out Chicago was a really bad choice for that sort of thing. They require cops exposed to the lycanthropy virus to wear special badges. Useful for dealing with angry werewolves on the streets but bad news for finding a date.”

“They discriminate that much there?”

“Between my low rating and exposure to the virus, let’s just say the last rung of the totem pole was an exclusive club belonging to me and only me. I was good at my job, but I was only accepted because I busted my ass. They didn’t care I wasn’t infected. I’d been exposed, and that was enough to get them riled up. They, grudgingly, have three werewolves on the force, and they only have them to meet their diversity quotas.”

The four cops exchanged long looks and remained quiet.