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CHAPTER SIX NED

Hugo Sota had been gay.

That had to mean something, Ned thought, as he and Scarlett did a final comb of the beach for other evidence. No, he hadn't had a boyfriend, the otters had said, but he was gay; he had said so on several occasions, including in a sports magazine interview. And that was a link between him and Fincher, which confirmed that they were dealing with some kind of freaky-religious homophobic killer.

But what kind of killer? Conrad Fincher had been one matter - he'd been alone in his bedroom, and had probably been shot without having a chance to defend himself - a killer could murder someone with a gun like that, because they could be fired from a distance, and quickly. But Hugo Sota was a different matter. He'd been out on the beach, presumably, or even in the water - so he should have been able to see for some distance. The fog hadn't set in until that morning, and it had been a moonlit night - and besides, felines were supposed to have the best night vision of any species. That meant that in all likelihood, the jaguar had seen death coming down the beach toward him and yet had not felt any awareness of the danger; otherwise he likely could have escaped. From what Ned had seen of the body, Sota had been very fit. Which meant only someone very, very powerful would have been able to overpower him and cut his throat.

The otters had said they'd left between midnight and 1am, and the body had been found sometime around 7, leaving somewhere in the vicinity of seven hours in which Sota could have been murdered. Rigor mortis had already set in, indicating he'd died closer to when his friends had left. Which meant...suddenly he had a horrible thought. Montoya was leaving with the otters, and Ned ran after them. "Hey!" he yelled. "One last question. Did you see any other cars?"

The otters started to shake their heads, but then the smaller one held up a paw. "Wasn't there one parked down the road lil bit?"

The taller otter blinked. "Yeah! One of them jap cars da kine you see on the telly. Toyoda."

"Looks like a minivan" the smaller one said. "One fo' everyone" he sang.

"A Prius?"

"Yeah, brah! Like dat. Dude had his lights off when we drove past, but he's gone now."

When Ned and Scarlett were in the truck driving back to the station, he explained about the white car that had almost blinded him the night before. "It has to be the killer. I left at 9, maybe. If he was still there when the otters left over three hours later..."

"Waiting for the chance" Scarlett sighed. "If your guess is right then at least we have an idea of what he drives...."

"Yeah. But that's about all we have."

"Why this cat?" the coyote wondered, resting her paws on the dashboard. "I mean, lot of folks have heard about Conrad Fincher. But this guy was a nobody, except for surf competition fans, I guess."

Ned shrugged. "Probably just because he was an athlete, and a gay one."

"I wonder what the autopsy will turn up" she mused. "Did you see that guy? He was ripped! How'd he let someone get the edge on him enough to cut his throat?"

"I think he died in the water," Ned guessed. "No sign of blood anywhere. I didn't scent any either...

"Anyway," he continued, "this makes two dead gay guys in three days. I don't like the sound of that."

"Someone's targeting them," Scarlett agreed. "A serial killer, maybe." Of course, though it would be horrible, getting to go after a serial killer would be extremely good for their careers - not every rookie cop got to deal with such a case. But when they got back to the station and told the Lieutenant about their theories, she just shook her head.

"Not enough bodies yet to call this a serial killer case" the wolf said, her eyes flowing over Ned's quickly written report. "Although the fact that they were both gay is...interesting, to say the least."

When they came out of the office, the rest of the officers were eating a box of doughnuts, courtesy of Montoya. "What kind of cops would we be if we didn't eat doughnuts?" the jaguar laughed, munching on a chocolate-covered doughnut.

Jason was the only person who hadn't taken a doughnut, and he scoffed at Montoya's words. "We're police officers," he said haughtily, pinning his ears and casting a disapproving glare around the room. "We shouldn't be conforming to ridiculous stereotypes." There again Jason, Ned thought. Always thinking he was better than the rest of them. But, oh well. Jason Pollack was really the least of his problems - if he really had any problems, to begin with. Discovering the identity of the bastard who'd killed Conrad Fincher and Hugo Sota might be not an easy task, but it was the kind of detective work that Ned genuinely enjoyed. And judging by the way Scarlett's tail was swishing lazily behind her, she was feeling similarly positive.

"Not ridiculous" Carmen Posa's voice was muffled by a muzzlefull of doughnut. "Just tasty." The forensics fox looked as nerdy as ever, in her Star Wars hoodie, sweat pants, and large square glasses.

"Jason, why do you always feel the need to be an ass?" Diego asked good-naturedly, bringing Ned's gaze back to him, and reminding Ned why he had once felt some degree of attraction to the wolfdog. Diego Redfield was half wolf, half Alsatian, both species generally stereotyped as intelligent and gorgeous, and he....was. Diego was the easy-going, dashing rogue that every woman at SF Metro secretly or not so secretly drooled over, and it wasn't hard to see why, not when one took into account the detective's glossy black, brown, and gold fur; not with the intent green eyes or the devilish smile that made women swoon. Diego was one of the taller guys in the unit, and delightfully fit, which was especially made evident by his habit of wearing wife beaters under his jacket, which did little to hide the amount of muscle adorning his body. Because of his dog blood, his mane wasn't as impressive as Ned's or Nolan's would have been (providing that they hadn't cut theirs off, which they had) but somehow that didn't make it any less attractive, falling back from the rise of his largish Alsatian ears.

Jason gave a low hiss, bringing Ned's attention back to him. Which was just as well. Diego was excellent eye candy, but he was straight and probably had a girlfriend. Once upon a time he and Montoya had apparently been in the habit of jointly hunting girls for one-night stands, but after Montoya had decided he was ready for real relationships, Diego's number of hook-ups seemed to have dwindled, or at least he didn't talk about them so much as before.

And besides, Ned thought; now I have Garrett. Who is every bit as hot, just in a different way.

"You know why?" Jason scowled, his long cougar tail thrashing about in the way feline's tails did when they were angry. "It's because you all hate me because I'm not a canid. Hah! I called you out on it! You thought I didn't know."

This wasn't the first time Jason had made such accusations, so nobody acted very surprised. "And what makes you think that?" Diego asked, grinning.

"Because Parker and Lewis are Lennox's favourites, so they always get the best cases. While I get stuck investigating overdosed hookers with this dago" he jerked a thumb at Milo. "And now this boring Harman case."

The jackal didn't bother responding to this insult to his Italian heritage, but Montoya, who never lost his cool during conversations, grinned and pointed his thumbs at his face. "If the unit is biased against non-canids, explain this. Everybody loves me!" Which was true. People generally liked Montoya as much as they disliked Jason.

"You're supposed to be on my side!" the cougar wined. "Cat power!" he pumped a paw.

That time, Ned, Montoya, and Diego actually laughed, and Scarlett and Carmen were rolling their eyes. "Sorry amigo, but no, I'm not on your side - because there isn't any sides" Montoya laughed. "I might like you more if you didn't always act like you had a crowbar shoved up your ass."

Jason was almost trembling, releasing and retracting his claws like he was going to rip them through someone's face. "You know though," Montoya winked at Ned and Scarlett. "Lennox only gave you the Harman case because she knew you could handle it best."

Jason peered at him suspiciously; eyes narrowed to slits in the way only a feline could manage. "What do you mean....?"

Leaning back in his swivel chair, Montoya smiled condescendingly. "Well, any cop can go after the killer of a yuppie celebrity like that Fincher dude, but it takes a special kind of cop to care about the issues of the common man, like Harman."

Ned was starting to find it hard not to smile, and he had to force his tail not to quiver. Jason's ears were unpinning. "Go on..."

"Lennox gave you the Harman case because she felt you had what it takes to be....the people's cop" Montoya finished, still sounding serious. He would make an incredible poker player.

The cougar blinked, nodding to himself. "The people's cop. Yes, I like that." He looked up around the scattering of faces, each officer doing his or her best not to laugh. "Fellow policemen - and women - I am a man of the people."

Beside him Ned noticed that Scarlett was gritting her teeth to keep from laughing. Jason had turned to Montoya, smiling seriously. "Thank you, fellow feline, for helping me see the truth in this matter." He gave Ned and Scarlett a triumphant, superior look. "Now I think I'm in need of some coffee."

Jason was fond of coffee, but Ned knew that in this case it meant merely that the cougar was going outside to smoke a cigarette, as he seemingly couldn't go over two or three hours without one.

The team managed to collectively hold their laughter long enough for Jason to enter the elevator and disappear before every officer, even Nolan, who was usually as quiet as Diego and Montoya were talkative, broke into a roaring round of laughter. "The people's cop?" Diego roared, slapping Montoya on the back. "Buddy, I don't fuckin' know where you come up with this."

"Ah, it's nothing" the jaguar said modestly, taking another doughnut from the box. "I thought about becoming a comedian, but then people would have died laughing, and amigo, I'd rather solve murders than commit them."

Everyone laughed again; then Montoya turned his gaze on Ned and Scarlett. "I'm sorry I had to throw you two under the bus, so to speak...."

"No worries" Ned laughed. "I'm sure I can endure Jason thinking his case is more important than mine...especially getting to laugh about it later."

"I miss something?" a woman's voice said sternly, causing all heads to jerk towards Lennox's office. The lieutenant was standing in the doorway, eyebrows raised. "Am I running a police division or a comedy club?"

"Sorry boss" Montoya said evenly. "Doughnut?" He held out the box.

Lennox sniffed but she took one gingerly before heading back into her office, after seeing that her team was getting back to work. Ned sat down at his desk

The people's cop.

He snickered.