FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Again, this is a work of fiction. The story is intended only for adults 18 years and older.

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Mind Games - pt. 2

Fifteen minutes later Pepper walked into the squad room and deposited a paper bag on her partner's desk. He was sitting hunched over his computer terminal, typing in commands with his oversized fingers. She peeked over his shoulder. "What do you have?"

Taping the return key several times, he pushed back from the monitor. "Take a gander for yourself."

She pulled up a chair and looked. Displayed was a slide show of computer generated crime scene fly-throughs. The picture changed several times, sweeping across and rotating the display from every possible angle. By the fifth fly-through she understood what she was looking at. "Whoa... They all hanged themselves in full sight of their comcams!"

Saul nodded grimly. "The question is, were they calling someone or being called when they did it?"

The vixen picked up her phone and punched three numbers. The phone rang twice before someone picked up. "Hello, Frank... Well, could you put Frank on... Yes, I'll wait." There was a rather long pause before a voice came across the line. "Frank? Hi, it's Pepper over in Investigations... Pepper... No, Detective Sergeant Pepper... Yeah, Ha! Ha! Ha! Very clever, whatever the joke is... No, I've never heard of the Beatles... Yeah, about a hundred twenty-five years before my time... Listen, Frank, do you still have any of your C.S.U people at the Bellows scene from this morning? Yeah, could you tell them my partner and I are coming by and not to lock it down until we get another look at it? Yes, me and the caveman. Okay, thanks."

She dropped the phone back into its receiver and tossed Saul his lunch. "Saddle up," she said. "I want to check that computer out before they bag and tag it." The big man shrugged his coat on as they both headed for the door. "And for heaven sake, if you're going to eat that in the car, at least roll down the window."

"Why?" he asked.

Pepper wrinkled her nose. "You know how much I hate onions."

* * * *

When the detectives arrived they were greeted by a rookie deputy who had been tasked to watch over the crime scene as part of his training. He insisted on checking their I.D. before admitting them to the premises. Tara Bellows had lived in a modest, one bedroom apartment just south of downtown. The furnishing was all second hand, but had been carefully restored or refurbished by the now deceased secretary.

Standard procedure in the case of a suicide was for the police to collect the victim's personal property and hold it until after the case cleared the Coroner's inquest, something that usually took about a month. Nothing had been moved yet, so a simple punch of the button brought Tara's computer to life. Pepper, being the more computer savvy of the two, sat down and slid a blank data stick into a small slot on the side. She began carefully download files while Saul flipped through sets of personal notebooks, calendars and address books. In one drawer he found a set of data sticks labeled jazz, rhythm/blues and soul. In another a series of data sticks with back-up files, each religiously labeled month by month for the last three years. The last stick had been formatted only three weeks earlier.

"SHIT! SHIT! SHIT!"

Saul turned towards his partner in time to see her wrench the data stick out of the computer. "What's wrong?"

"I was trying to download the last forty-eight hours of computer work when I triggered a tapeworm. The whole system's collapsing in on itself and there's nothing I can do."

Her partner watched as line upon line of data simply vanished from the screen. "That looks pretty sophisticated."

"It's a Level V program at least," she said. "It erases the command and shut-down protocols first, and then uses the in-system emergency power supply to keep things running until it's finished eating the data."

"Dual trigger?" Saul asked.

"Yes, damn it! It kicks in when you access a particular program or after a set amount of time. In this case, twenty-four hours. I should have been looking for this. Whoever or whatever's behind these suicides is covering tracks."

"What about the data stick?"

"I pulled it out pretty quick, the tapeworm may not have gotten to it."

"Let's hope not," Saul replied. "In the meantime we might want to call the Property department and see if they still have any of the other computers owned by our victims."

"If they do, ten to one their data's already burned as well."

"Probably," the human agreed. "But even so, that will tell us something, won't it?"

* * * *

Returning to the squad room the detectives split their workload. Saul began building a case board on his computer, pasting together pictures of the possible victims, dates, addresses, significant information and the like. He also filled out custody forms for several items he'd removed from the crime scene as possible evidence. Pepper immediately contacted the Property department. Sure enough, they still had two computers that had been owned by women in their case file, and, as the vixen had speculated their memory had been wiped clean. Pepper also managed to get a list of where three of the computers had been sent. She was able to contact two of the new owners and they reported the machines had been completely blanked when they first used them. She passed this information on to Saul who recorded it on the case board.

The vixen then contacted the local telecommunications company and provided them with a list of names, dates and addresses. Within a few hours she would have a list of comcams and phone numbers for the last month of each victims' lives.

Saul finished the case board and sent it from his computer to a large video screen that hung on one side of the squad room. The two detectives stood for long moments in front of it, examining the posted clues, looking for connections.

"What about hobbies?" Pepper suggested. Her partner nodded, picked up a special pen and wrote Hobbies/Interests on the board. It converted his scrawl into crisp text and displayed it under each woman's image. There was a brief pause as the board accessed known data. Moments later, six of the images had one or two different hobbies listed underneath. The others only displayed the word: UNKNOWN.

Saul rubbed the stubble on his chin then wrote in the word Music. A question mark came up next to it, so he replaced the word with Favorite Music. Another pause, then the words BLUES, JAZZ popped up underneath seven of the names. JAZZ, CLASSICAL appeared under one girl's name and UNKNOWN under the anthrop skunk's image.

"Interesting," he muttered. "What are the chances of that?"

"Very good, actually," the vixen responded. "About seventy percent of the anthrop community likes that kind of music."

"Why?"

"I think it has something to do with harmonic resonance," she said. "All I know is when I listen to it, it kind of vibrates inside me in a warm, sensuous kind of way, ruffling my fur just right."

Saul nodded and filed the information away, focusing once more on the case board. After several minutes of staring at it he shook his head and went over to the water cooler then returned to his computer.

"Might as well look at that data stick now."

Pepper handed him the stick and he inserted into a port on his machine. After scanning it for virus or traps, he accessed the file lists. Most were fragmented or incomplete and couldn't be viewed. The three most recent however appeared relatively intact. One was a financial program, another, a music/video player. The third one drew his attention immediately. It was labeled COMCAMS. The detective clicked on it. Their victim had used her comcam five times within the last forty-eight hours; once to call work; three times for family or friends and once for... Saul frowned. The recipient code was blanked out. He punched a few keys then sat back. Pepper pulled up a chair next to him.

The image on the screen was slightly fuzzy and had several dropouts, but could still be easily viewed. It opened on a view of Tara Bellows moving around the apartment straightening things up. Her long blond hair was done up in a tight braid which hung fetchingly over one shoulder. The anthrop-lynx was humming gently as if she didn't have a care in the world. A small kitchen step stool was centered in the image and a hangman's noose suspended from the ceiling. Both detectives could feel the hackles rising on the back of their necks.

The lynx finished her chores then came back, stood in front of the comcam and began undressing, folding her clothes neatly over the back of the couch. Pepper froze the image for a moment and zoomed in on the woman's face. Her expression was placid, but the eyes looked blank... almost as if there was no thought or feeling behind them. After a moment or two, she started the image moving forward again, her hand trembling slightly as she hit the required keys.

The young secretary finished stripping down to bare fur and vanished into the kitchen. She came out a few moments later carrying a large kitchen knife in one hand and her severed braid in the other. Laying these on the couch, she went over to her purse and pulled out a set of handcuffs. She climbed the shaky step stool and balanced herself precariously on the top step. She then took the noose, slipped it around her neck and cinched it tight Her hands disappeared behind her back. The sound of the handcuffs locking sent an icy chill up Pepper's spine. The lynx looked directly at the comcam and smiled seductively. Then everything changed.

To Saul, it almost seemed as if a switch had been thrown in the young woman's eyes. Her expression became confused, almost dazed. This lasted for several seconds. Then, as her situation became apparent, her visage became one of absolute terror. She whimpered, fear tightening her throat so her voice came out only as a strained whisper.

"No... Please, No... Let go... Let me go..." She tried lifting her arms only to discover her wrists were pinioned behind her. "No... Please, Help.... I don't want to die... I don't..." Her struggles to free her hands overbalanced her and the stool tilted wildly, then collapsed.

Grim-faced, Saul cut the comcam off at that point and looked over at his partner. Pepper's head was in her hands and her shoulders were shaking. The human knelt down beside her and pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, pressing it into her hand. She took it, wiping at her eyes as she tried to get a hold of her emotions. Looking up at her partner he could see tear stains on her face, yet her expression was one of anger.

"Did you see? Did you hear?" she snapped. "Suicide my ass! Somehow, she was being forced to kill herself."

"How?" Saul asked.

"I don't know," Pepper replied. "Drugs maybe, hypnosis... What she said right at the end proves it."

"All it shows is she had a change of heart," the human said. "She may have been schizophrenic."

"You really think that?" she asked

"I'm not sure what to think, yet. But I do know we've got a lot more digging to do before we make up our minds."

The preliminary autopsy report on Tara Bellows came in about late afternoon. Saul dutifully entered it on the case board, along with autopsy reports on four of the other girls. Pepper was busy going through telecommunication records line by line.

The M.E. had found no evidence that drugs or alcohol use was a factor in her death. What he did find interesting was that there had been indications of pre-mortem bleeding in the brain. No explanation of how that was important accompanied the report, so Saul got on the comcam and contacted the Morgue.

The doctor they had talked to earlier had already gone home, so the detective spent several minutes with his associate.

"The bleeding is not an indicator of any kind of mental disorder or dysfunction," the examiner said. "In fact, in and of itself it wasn't life or health threatening. What makes it interesting though is the fact it occurred in close proximity to the victim's death and the regions of the brain that were affected."

"What regions?" Saul asked.

"In layman's terms, those concerned primarily with motor function, cognitive decision making and arousal."

"That seems like an odd combination," the detective muttered.

"Not really," he replied. "It's just one random combination out of a couple hundred possible ones."

"Any chance we could get a similar work-up on any of the other autopsies on our list?"

The doctor shook his head. "This was the only one we did a post-mortem M.R.I. on. Exhuming even the most recent victim to this one would produce no usable results. Too much time has passed."

"SAUL!" The detective looked up from his display. Pepper was gesturing for him to come over. He quickly thanked the doctor, ended his call and walked over to his partner.

"What have you got?"

"I was working the telecom records," she said excitedly, "when I came across this." Saul looked. Two of the victims had received notices from their service providers of payment delinquencies, several days after their apparent suicides. In both cases, they had subscribed to an auto payment plan using their credit accounts.

"The delinquencies occurred because the credit accounts had both been maxed-out," the vixen explained.

"Can you access any other financial histories?"

"Already did," she said. "In every case, the victims cashed in and/or drew advances on their financial resources; forty-five thousand here, thirty-nine here and almost one hundred twenty-two thousand here. All in the week before they died."

"What about investments, insurance or annuities?"

"Untouched," Pepper answered. "Drawing down on them would have sent up a red flag at the I.R.S."

"Figures. Uncle Slam wants his share," the human muttered. "What about the telecom records?"

"I'm running a comparative collation now. It should give us a list of common server numbers the victims accessed."

Saul nodded, stretched and went over to a nearby coffee pot. He poured two cups, one he cut with some milk and a couple of sugars. The other he left black. He returned to Pepper's desk and handed her a cup, keeping the straight coffee for himself. Moments later the list of several hundred numbers matched themselves down to only one.

"That was almost too easy," the vixen muttered.

Saul squinted as he looked at the display screen. "Jigsaw Jim's Jazz Café; what is that?"

"I know the place," Pepper said. "It's a cross between an internet café, a bar and grill and a jazz club. It's over on Spring Street near Central."

"Popular place?"

"Yes and no," she replied. "It's not trendy and I don't think the owner has refurbished it in years, but it's clean and they do have a regular program of jazz musicians on the weekends."

"Which would explain the telecom calls."

She nodded. "I think it's more popular with the anthrop community than with humans. It's good place to hang out and meet people."

"Providing they're not the wrong kind of people." Saul said grimly.

* * * *

The sun was hanging just above the mountaintops, threatening to envelop the city in shadow when the two detectives pulled up in front of Jigsaw Jim's. The two-story brick building was at least one hundred and thirty years old, having been built back in the mid-twentieth century. Pepper remembered someone telling her it had once been a cinema house that had fallen into disuse.

Entering, the vixen and her partner found themselves in a large room. To their immediate left was a cashier station. A large bar extended outward from the left hand wall to about the middle of the room. Next to it, a set of swinging double doors led into a kitchen. A small platform stage occupied the far end of the room. A dozen large wooden booths lined one wall, each with a complete computer hook-up suite. Patrons could lease portable computers from behind the bar. Another two-dozen tables of various sizes were scattered around the room. Old style track lighting dotted the room, providing enough just enough illumination to guarantee you wouldn't trip over your own feet. The sound system was spitting out a rather nice piece of jazz.

There were about seven people in the café, four anthrop and three human. Saul immediately headed for the bar where an anthrop-equine was working.

Seeing their approach, the bartender smiled, not quite knowing to make of the odd looking couple. "What can I get you?" he asked.

"Two mocha fraps, light on the ice," Saul replied. He tilted his head towards one of the empty booths. "We'll take them over there."

The bartender nodded and went to work as the two detectives seated themselves at the booth.

When he brought them their drinks, Saul asked if the owner were around.

"If you mean Jigsaw Jim, he's upstairs in his apartment. Won't come out until the evening shift starts around seven."

"Could you do us a favor and ask him to come down?" Pepper requested, showing her badge. The equine nodded and went behind the bar where he picked up a telephone. About eight minutes later a large, overweight male calico cat came out of the kitchen and strolled casually over to their table, stopping first at the bar to talk with the bartender. Pepper slid out of the booth and stood so he could have a seat, then slid in next to him.

The anthrop cat held out a hand. Saul's hand practically swallowed it, though he was careful not to grip too tightly. "Jigsaw Jim," the cat offered. "How can I help you?"

"Do you happen to have a comcam server on the premises?"

"I have two, along with a route server for my internet business. May I ask what this is about?"

"We're investigating a case involving telecom fraud," Pepper fibbed. "The people mixed up in it are routing their activities through several local businesses and we're trying to trace their information dump sites."

Across from her, Saul jotted down a number on a piece of paper and gave it to Jigsaw. "This came up in the phone records of several of our suspects."

The cat looked at it, raising an eyebrow. "Well, I can have my I.T. check the servers over for unauthorized access, but if they're using this number here, they're out of luck. This is my ad line. I post play dates for some of the bands that come in on weekends. It's a recorded info loop with minimal data storage and no direct access to the rest of my servers." He was interrupted momentarily when the bartender brought him a mimosa with a sprig of catnip draped along the rim. He sipped at it gingerly, causing the ice cubes to clink together.

Pepper took out a small packet of photos. "There's also the possibility they're using the club as a meeting point. Have you ever seen any of these people here?"

Jigsaw looked through the pictures then set four of them aside. "The other's, I don't know, but I remember these." He pointed to a picture of Tara Bellows. "She's a regular, comes in at least twice a week, usually Wednesdays and Fridays." He pushed two of the pictures back towards Pepper. "They use to be regulars," he said, tapping the pictures of the two anthrop-canines. Came in together most of the time, but I haven't seen either of them for a while." He picked up the picture of the skunkette. "This girl's Violet. Use to show up here every week like clockwork. Came in all the way from El Paso County. You can scratch her from your suspects list," he said sadly. " She's dead."

"Oh? How did she die?" Pepper asked innocently.

"Suicide, I think," Jigsaw replied. "Tragic really. She was a class act, smart and beautiful. She could play the keyboard like no one's business." He sipped at his drink again. "The Friday jam sessions haven't been the same since."

Saul raised an eyebrow and flattened both his hands on the table. Pepper recognized the signal and excused herself so he could talk 'Mano e Mano' with Jigsaw.

Had they been talking with a female, their roles would have reversed and she would be the one having a 'Heart to Heart.'

Walking to the Ladies room, she noticed an open door leading into a small room just off the corridor. She peeked across the threshold. Inside sat a number of electronic computer cabinets and wall panels. Hovering over them was a thin, round faced, almond- eyed human. She looked up from her work and spotted the vixen looking at her. Frowning, she stood, walked up to the door and closed it sharply in Pepper's face.

"Sorry," she said, her voice edging on sarcasm. She walked the rest of the way to the Ladies room, her tail flicking in annoyance. Entering the restroom, she found that the overhead lights were strobbing slightly. This merely added to the vixen's annoyance. At least the place was clean, she mused.

Finishing her 'business,' Pepper went over to the sink, washed her hands then took out a small brush and gently curried her hair and cheek ruff. She usually gave her partner at least ten minutes to run his routine, so she took her time. The lights above the sink flickered, and in that instant she thought she saw something move behind the mirror. She leaned closer for a better look.

* * * *

Saul sat waiting for almost fifteen minutes before the vixen returned from the rest room. "I was getting ready to send out the Coast Guard," he quipped. "Thought you might have fallen in and drowned."

"Ha, ha! Very funny! Can we get out of here now?" Saul immediately picked up on the tiredness of Pepper's voice. He slid clumsily out of the booth and followed her out of the building. Driving back to headquarters, Saul noticed that the vixen was unusually quiet.

"You okay?"

"Yeah," she replied after a few moments. "But I think I'm building to one hell of a headache. Don't know why though. I drank enough water to float a cruise ship."

"Tension, I bet," the human offered. "This case isn't a walk in the park. Running through that comcam earlier didn't help."

"No, it didn't. Watching that poor girl... I wanted to go running into the little girls room like I did at Catholic school and have a good, solid cry." She looked up at her partner smiling ruefully. "Guess I'm not as hardboiled a detective as I should be."

Saul shook his head. "Lady, the day you become hardboiled is the day you should quit. You've got good instincts because you feel for others. That's a gift. You leave the hardboiled stuff to me. I'm built for it. I can be much more intimidating that a bit of fluff like you."

"How do you do it?"

"Do what?"

"Deal with the kind of shit we have to deal with and still show up the next morning?"

"Well, on the really bad days, I stop by a little hole in the wall place I know, down three straight malt whiskeys, then go into the little boy's room and puke my guts out." Pepper stared at him in disbelief, missing the playful gleam in his eyes. Saul shrugged. "What can I say? It's cleansing."

"Ewww! That is way too much information."

By the time they'd pulled into the sheriff's station, the vixen's headache was much worse. Since their shift was just about over, Saul offered to finish up the daily reports for both of them, allowing Pepper a chance to go home and rest. She agreed with little argument and left, after first thanking her partner. The human stayed behind until shortly after seven-thirty, then went home.

Saul was back at work by eight o'clock the next morning, but when he went into roll call, his partner was nowhere to be seen. He dutifully sat through the routine announcements and bulletins then headed for the squad room, intending to call Pepper at home. He hadn't gotten five feet before Captain Harris ambushed him, and dragged him into his office.

"I'm putting you with a new man today, Blackthorne. Your fuzzy-assed partner called in sick and I want you to focus on showing this rookie how things work around here."

"Is Sergeant Fields alright?" Saul asked.

"Why? You want to marry her or something?" the Captain asked. Noticing the concern on the human's face, the badger softened somewhat. "Yeah, she's alright. Told me it was only a headache and some nausea. Insisted she'd be back on duty by tomorrow morning. She wanted me to tell you not to worry your ragged ass about it. Her words, not mine," Harris said with a grin.

"That sounds about right," Saul replied.

"Good! Now that we have that out of the way... COOPER! MY OFFICE, NOW!

In response to the bellow, a young male otter entered and came to attention. He was dressed in a spit polished tan and green uniform of a deputy sheriff, complete with tie. The creases in his uniform were sharp enough to shave with and his shirt collar held the rank insignia of deputy corporal. Harris glared at the rookie detective.

"Cooper... Did your supervisor explain your transfer to the Investigations Division to you?"

"Yes, SIR! He said I was to report this morning, SIR!"

"And did he explain what you should wear when you reported??

"SIR! He said I should dress to impress, SIR!"

"How many uniformed detectives have you seen around this department, Cooper?"

The otter's manner faltered slightly, like a computer that had suddenly realized it had misplaced some ones and zeros. "I... Uh... None? Sir?"

Captain Harris just shook his head and looked up at Saul. "Blackthorne, take this newbie and show him how things work around here."

Smiling, the human threw a comical salute. "Yes, sir, Captain Harris, sir! Right away sir!"

"OUT!"

Saul led the younger detective out of the office and towards the squad room. "So, what's your name?"

"Cooper, Sir. Leo Cooper."

"You can knock off that sir stuff, Leo. The name's Blackthorne, but you can call me Saul."

"Yes, sir... I mean Saul."

"Do you know how to fill out a case summary?"

"In theory... But I've never been asked to before."

"Good," the human replied. He reached into a stack of files on his desk and pulled out two. "These are cases that Sergeant Fields and I worked on last week. Everything's finished except for the case summaries. Let's see what you can do."

He left the otter sitting at a computer terminal busily tapping away on the keyboard. Saul went over to another terminal and dialed Pepper's number. A still photo of his partner popped up on the screen.

"Hi! Sorry I missed your call. I'll get back at you as soon as I finish what I'm doing. If you want, you can leave a message, but make it cogent." There was a short pause followed by an electronic BEEP.

"Morning fuzz ball! Saul here. Missed seeing you at work. They've got me wet-nursing a rookie today, so we'll pick up the case again first thing tomorrow. Call if you need anything, chicken soup, aspirin, mace, whatever. Bye."

Blackthorne ended the call then sighed heavily and started slogging through the piles of papers on his desk.

* * * *

Pepper woke up that morning feeling tired and sore. Her headache was still there, but she could only feel it distantly, almost as if it was being smothered by layer upon layer of cotton. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes. She found herself lying in her bare fur on a rumpled bed. She sat up and felt something wet between her legs. She looked down. A thick, milky-white fluid was leaking out from between her legs, soaking her fur. She tentatively touched it then brought her fingers up to her nose pad. Semen!

Confused, she looked around the room, but didn't recognize it, though she could tell it was a motel room of some kind, and a cheap one at that. Her clothes were scattered wildly around the room. Gathering them up, Pepper discovered that while the skirt and jacket were relatively intact, all the buttons on her blouse had been torn off, the clasp on her bra was broken and her panties... they couldn't be found anywhere. She went into the bathroom and examined herself in a mirror. Dried cum matted the fur on her face, chest, hair and along the base of her tail.

A cold, numb feeling washed over her, making it hard to think. She could remember nothing of last night, and the harder she tried, the more her head hurt. She walked out of the bathroom and sat on the bed, examining the small table next to it. There she found a notepad with the name of the motel, The Mountain View. She recognized the address. It was only about five blocks from her home.

A small part of her knew there was more here than just a wild night out. She couldn't remember going out last night, let alone mating or even whom she had mated with. Every instinct in her said she had been raped, but how? If this really was a crime scene then evidence had to be preserved, but she was hesitant to call anyone officially, not yet. She needed someone she could trust, someone who would believe her and help her sort out what had happened. She immediately thought of Saul! Yes, she could call her partner. He'd help her put it together.

There was a small computer in one corner of the room, attached to it was a comcam. Pepper stood went over to it. She activated it and watched as the screen came to life and an odd looking test pattern formed. The vixen stared at it for several seconds. Suddenly the room began spinning wildly. She staggered and was violently sick to her stomach. She barely made it to the toilet before throwing up. Kneeling in front of the porcelain bowl, her headache began pounding again, quite painfully now. A warm, tingling sensation seemed to press against the inside of her skull. The pain grew so intense that tears came to her eyes and she moaned then retched again.

Unexpectedly, it stopped, almost as if someone had thrown a switch. The relief was so great the vixen smiled, then stood. Without thinking she went over to the tub and began filling it. Pepper slowly slid down into the hot water, hissing as she got use to the temperature. Stretching herself out, she lay there soaking in the warmth. She let her fingers dance lightly up and down her body, brushing aside the floating strands of fur and rubbing her nipples gently. As they stood erect she began imagining her lover, his face strangely blurred, as he roughly suckled and kneaded her breasts. She could almost feel the smooth, soft skin of the human as he lay atop her.

Her right hand moved down and grazed along her slit, her thumb and the tip of one finger finding and circling her nub. Her left hand continued to massage her breasts. She imagined her human lover thrusting powerfully into her. She began sliding her fingers in and out, brushing them against the walls of her sex. Faster and faster she plunged them into her cunt until finally her back arched and her body tremored with release. Gasping, she slid back into the water and lie there, silently, eyes distant and unfocused as the water slowly cooled around her. Deep within her mind a small, unheard voice screamed in helpless frustration.

Pepper rose from the tub, humming a little tune as she dried and brushed her fur, then dressed in what was left of her clothing. There were so many errands to run, so many things to do, and so little time in the day.

To be continued...