Page 70 of Oddly Fine

“It’s—” Hayes tried to find the right word, but failed to come up with anything complimentary about Franklin’s living space. One of his dates had once said that his condo was excessively clean. That he needed to give it some life and interest. Looking around Franklin’s show place of a condo, Hayes thought that, by comparison, his condo was just a step away from qualifying as a crack house.

“My brother was a posh asshole,” Beckett sighed, rubbing his forehead like he was getting a headache.

Hayes was about to agree when a flash of something brown appeared in his peripheral vision. Whatever it was had moved quickly, but there was no question that he’d seen it. He gestured for Beckett to be quiet, indicating that they were not alone in the condo.

Slowly, he crept towards the room on the left of the entryway, where something brown moved faintly through the crack of the slightly ajar door. With one hand on his weapon, he signaled for Beckett to take cover next to the door, which was their usual entry strategy. Then, he did a silent, three-second countdown with fingers on his left hand.

When Hayes reached one, Beckett swung around and kicked the door wide open.

“Freeze!” Hayes said, pointing his weapon at the intruder and—

“Is that a dog?” Beckett asked, stunned at the sight of the incredibly small bundle of fur.

Dog was perhaps a bit too generous a term. Less than five pounds, the animal possessed the attributes of a stuffed toy more than any of those normally assigned to a typical canine. With curly brown and black fur, and bright black eyes that were wide with terror, the dog stared up at them from where it cowered fearfully in a corner of its dog bed.

“Your brother had a dog?” Hayes questioned in stunned disbelief. This directly conflicted with what he’d thought about Franklin, the stoic man who maintained this perfect abode.

“That’s not a dog—it’s some kind of—alien, robot thing, right? Ain’t no way it’s real,” he declared shaking his head. However, despite his ridiculous claims, he put down his weapon and crouched down next to the dog bed.

“Hey—Gizmo!” Beckett said, baptising it spontaneously. He slowly extended his hand towards the dog. The little thing bounced right out of his bed, obviously recognizing the gesture as an invitation to be best friends. The dog began yapping excitedly, running around Beckett’s feet, his tiny little behind wiggling frantically with excitement.

“Jesus,” Beckett muttered, as he struggled to keep up with its erratic movements and finally just snatched it up. As soon as Beckett snuggled him against his chest, Gizmo stilled instantly, obviously content now that he was being held.

“None of you knew about Gizmo?” Hayes asked, since Franklin had been dead for nearly 48 hours and it appeared that no one in his family had come by to collect the dog.

“No,” Beck said, shaking his head, his brow deeply furrowed as he pondered the situation. “Why’d he keep you a secret?” he asked the furry thing in his arms. The dog didn’t reply—obviously—but he did look as if he was asking, You won’t leave me here again, right?

Hayes thought it best to just walk away before he did something stupid like start feeling something for Gizmo. Hayes had already become enamored of goddamned Pantouffle. He didn’t need to let himself get roped into caring for a dog on top of that. He told himself to focus on why they were there in the first place.

“I’m going to look around the office,” he said, gesturing back towards the main living area where he’d seen Franklin’s desk.

“Right—” Beckett said, gaze still fixed on the dog. “I’ll just—feed him, you know—so he doesn’t decide to nibble on us ‘cause he’s starving,” he declared, as he looked around the room, which seemed—insanely enough—completely dedicated to the needs of the curly hairball in his arms.

“Sure—safety first,” Hayes said, rolling his eyes before leaving his partner to get acquainted with the dog.

A dog. A goddamned dog. Who would have ever thought Franklin would have a pet?

By the time Hayes circled back around to the dog’s room—what a bizarre thing to say, let alone think about—Beckett was still holding Gizmo in his arms, although now he was sitting on the floor holding a picture frame in front of him. Hayes assumed that it was a picture of Beckett’s family, but when he came up behind him and looked over Beckett’s shoulder, he discovered he was way off target.

“Is that—”

“Yup,” Beckett said, popping the P.

At first glance, it appeared to be an ordinary letter. But not just a letter: it was an official, notarised document.

To whom it may concern:

In the event of my untimely death, I, Franklin Thérault, hereby surrender the custody of my beloved Nickel to my brother Beckett E. Thérault. The recipient of Nickel’s custody will also inherit the total sum of $100,000.00, to be paid in an annual lump sum of $5,000, for a period of 20 years, to be used to cover any and all expenses related to Nickel’s care and well-being. If, by cause of death, or refusal, Beckett E. Thérault, would be unable to take custody of Nickel, then Nickel, along with the above-referenced sum of money, shall be directed to my sister Maggie R. Thérault. In the event she is unable to care for Nickel, then custody shall be transferred to my brother Jackson P. Thérault.

Franklin M. Thérault

“Is he for fucking real?” Beckett sneered in a harsh whisper, as if trying not to upset the dog. “The fucker killed himself and left me his dog!” he exclaimed, looking down at the dog in his lap. Well, at least now he had the dog’s official name. Small favors and all that. Right?

“Maybe—” Hayes was stymied by extreme feelings of doubt and confusion. What was there to say? “He might have—”

Click. The unmistakeable sound of a door latch releasing. Hayes raced from the room before thinking about it, gun drawn and aimed at the front door, but it was pulled shut just as quickly as it had been opened.

“Someone was at the front door!” he yelled over his shoulder as he headed for the door and threw it open, catching a glimpse of someone running down the hallway, heading straight for the fire exit. It was impossible to identify the person since the guy was completely concealed in black from head-to-toe. Hayes dashed after the intruder.