Jack Johnson was sighing as he heard his father talking on the phone. The seventy year old senior who was still a normal was complaining that his next door neighbors were making too much noise and the police were doing nothing to stop it.
“Dad,” Jack interrupting the old man; “most of the police force are were’s. Unless it’s a party or your neighbors are outside in their Fursona; they aren’t going to come over.”
“Well that’s bullshit,” old man Johnson responding; “your mother isn’t doing so well and all this noise is preventing her from resting.”
“The best I can do dad,” Jack sighing; “is talk to the Anderson’s tomorrow.”
“They told me to get noise cancelling headphones,” old man Johnson seething; “if I want some quiet.”
“I’ll talk to them tomorrow dad,” Jack rolling his eyes; “but in the meantime, do not go banging on their door again. Just call the police and stay indoors.”
Jack Johnson hangs up the phone and shakes his head. The were-feline who looks at his partner as he throws his paws up in the air in defeat; his fursona is that of a Siamese/tabby mix. With one blue eye and the other amber; Jack was born with the rare condition Heterochromia. It carried over to when he became a were-feline after his family moved to Moon Lake and he became the family-were. While in his human form his eyes are blue and green; but in his fursona, Jack’s green eyes turns amber.
Jack’s life partner Mark Hammond is a were-feline himself. His Fursona being that of a British Shorthair with golden eyes; also the family-were for his family, his sister who is a veterinarian that volunteers every so often at the local animal shelter. Mark job is currently the school cook for Moon Lake High; yet he also work as a bartender at the were-club when its open on Friday and Saturday evening.
“Your father foaming at the mouth again,” Mark looking at Jack.
“He is just exasperated,” Jack shaking his head; “what with mom still recovering from a broken leg. A part of me feels I should head over right now just to help them out.”
“Your parents wouldn’t be in this mess if they became were’s,” Mark pointing out.
“At their age and current health condition,” Jack shaking his head; “sex with a were could kill them. Despite dad’s active lifestyle,” Jack grabbing a couple of sodas; “his cholesterol is dangerously high and he does everything he can to ignore the diet he is supposed to be on.”
“Well it’s not as if you can’t go over any time,” Mark looking at his partner; “we do live only a block away. We could just walk over now that the sun has set.”
“We are still under a were-alert Mark,” Jack tossing the were-feline a soda; “neither of us can be outside in our fursona. As the town’s prosecutor,” Jack cracking open his can and taking a sip; “I have to hold an example to the laws I swore to uphold.”
“How soon will this were-alert end,” Mark chugging his soda back; “this kitty is getting restless and wants to go outside and play.”
“As soon as the police find a legal reason to arrest and detain Frederick Parker and his men,” Jack commenting; “or they leave town. But since Frederick Parker’s son Daniel shot Peter Talbot and is in jail for that and grand theft auto,” Jack sighing; “as well as a few other charges. Plus I have an extradition request from the FBI; they want to take Daniel back to San Francisco to face charges their and possibly turn him against his father for their RICO case.”
“So in other words,” Mark looking sad in his fursona; “no playing outside just yet.”
“At least,” Jack approaching his partner and placing a paw on his partner’s shoulder; “not for a few more days. But we do have the bedroom to play in,” Jack smiling as he strokes his partner’s furry head.”
“Lead on,” Mark purring; letting Jack guide him upstairs.
******
Sitting in his cell and lamenting at the lack of means to pass the time; Daniel Parker was slowly eating his nightly meal. A tray consisting of a couple of overheated slices of Hawaiian Pizza and a bottle of ginger-ale. Never a big fan of Pizza; Daniel was however eating as he was hungry; the nearby t.v that was mounted outside of his cell was displaying a news report. Despite the volume muted; Daniel shook his head as he recognized a few of the people in the news cast. Associates that work for his father all being lead to jail. A massage parlor was raided; it was one of Frederick’s favorite places and now it just got shut down.
“Dad will be pissed when he finds out,” Daniel flicking a loose chunk of pineapple off his food tray; “I just hope his friends arrive soon. This place gives me the creeps.”
*******
Agent Brooke Reed was borrowing an empty desk at the police station; writing up a report. After spending a few hours interrogating the men from Frederick Parker that got arrested; one from a failed home invasion, two trespassing around the Talbot property and another one armed as he tried to get into Peter Talbot’s recovery room at the hospital. None like languishing in jail; the fear of Chelnik or any of Frederick’s friends dealing with them if they squealed kept them from talking. That is until Agent Reed asked why their attorneys have yet to speak to them. Getting a round answer from the first three that got pinched; it was the fourth of Frederick’s she spoke to that got her attention.
The man that survived the failed break in at Benton Knight’s estate; scared that Chelnik will eventually kill him for disobeying the boss’s orders in not pulling jobs. The man was more than eager to co-operate on the promise of Federal protection. So he started talking about some past events that the Feds suspected Frederick was a part of. Missing people, assaults, intimidation, drug smuggling and even prostitution; the man Agent Reed was interrogating was a professional burglar, yet he was privy to some of Frederick’s most secretive dealings.
It was after having this talk with the man that Agent Reed was calling up her director; requesting additional manpower. Maintaining the ruse that Chelnik has disappeared, despite being the one who killed him early in the morning, Agent Reed hung up the phone and looked at a deputy.
“Earliest I can get some help down here is Tuesday,” Agent Reed sighing; “dam federal holiday.”
“The prisoners are not going away anytime soon,” the deputy commenting; “go and get some rest.”
“I’d rather have a run through the woods,” Agent Reed getting up; “but I can’t do that right now can I.”
“Yeah the were-alert suck for us all,” the deputy sighing; “by the way I smell you are a werewolf, but what is your fur marking?”
“My fursona is based off of an artic wolf, “Agent Reed answering; “my fur is mostly white, but there is grey all along my back and tail. Why you ask?”
“I’m a werewolf myself,” the deputy answering; “pure jet black fur when in my fursona.”
“Just like my boyfriend,” Agent Reed grinning; “yet the tips of his ears have a subtle hint of white, as well as his tail.”
“Dam,” the deputy smiling; “so you’re spoken for all ready.”
“And he is eagerly waiting for me back in Seattle,” Agent Reed stating; “he is an FBI agent as well.”