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Chapter 6: Worse for Wear

  The morning light filtered through the blinds of Chief Greer’s office, casting sharp stripes across the desk piled high with open case files, an ashtray filled to the brim, and a chaotic mess of newspaper clippings. Duke Marlowe’s shoulders barely cleared the doorframe as he entered, keeping his head low to avoid scraping his horns. He moved into the office and nodded to Rex, who was already standing next to the Chief’s desk, tense and silent.

  Rex looked worse for wear.

  A fresh bandage wrapped around his head, just above his left eye and partially covering the base of his ear. Its stark white color contrasted against the dark timber of his fur, while another was snuggly fastened around his forearm, just visible beneath the rolled-up sleeve of his rumpled and damaged trench coat. His usual crisp dress shirt was slightly unbuttoned at the collar, and his usually loose fitting tie was missing altogether. A faint swelling still lingered along his jaw, making the left side of his muzzle look slightly heavier, though he carried it with a gruff indifference. His ears flicked with irritation.

  His posture was stiff, betraying the aches undoubtedly still clinging to him. The accident may have rattled him, but Rex wasn’t the kind to show it. It had been a full news cycle since the incident on the bypass and both Duke and Rex were not looking forward to what was coming when they were called into Greer’s office.

  Chief Greer sat behind the desk, feathers puffed up in a storm of rage that hadn’t yet found its words. He fixed his gaze squarely on Rex, barely acknowledging Duke’s presence. Finally, he exhaled sharply, a muscle ticking in his jaw. He tapped a newspaper with one finger.

  "Tell me, Calder," Greer growled, his voice low but building like a thunderhead. "What in the abyss made you think tearing through half the city, pulling reckless stunts, all in the name of an outrageously destructive pursuit, was acceptable police work?"

  Duke shifted awkwardly beside Rex, wishing he hadn’t been summoned to bear witness to this particular dressing-down. Watching the Chief’s gaze laser-focused on Rex made him feel like a guilty accomplice, and he wasn’t even a part of the chase in the harbor.

  Rex squared his shoulders, finally speaking up.

  “Chief, I was in pursuit of a dangerous suspect. He’d already put lives at risk back in the Harbor District. I made the calls I had to in the moment. I understand they may not have been by the book bu-”

  Greer raised an eyebrow as he interrupted, “Oh, really? Not by the book?” He feigned surprise as he leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest. “You don’t say, Calder.” His sarcasm hung thick in the air, and he rifled through the newspaper clippings on his desk, fingers tapping on one in particular before he held it up for display.

  It was a close-up shot of a racoon, teary-eyed, gesturing to what looked like a pile of scrap metal that had once been his motorcycle. The bold headline above it screamed, “I JUST PAID IT OFF!”

  Greer’s voice exploded with barely contained fury. “This,” he snapped, pointing at the image. “Look at this! Of course it isn’t ‘By the book’!” Greer slammed the photo down onto his desk and continued yelling, “A poor racoon loses everything in a fluke encounter with you!”

  Greer’s voice shifted abruptly, oozing with mocking condemnation, ‘I feared for my life!’ ‘Never been so scared!’”

  Greer gave a brief pause before making exaggerated gestures with his hands and arm feathers, “I just paid it off.” His eyes squinted and he leaned forward toward Rex as if he was going to clamor across the desk, “His bike is wrecked, totaled, destroyed!” Greer dialed back his voice into a snarky biting tone as he gave a squint eyed glare and Rex, “But no, ‘Detective Calder may have not gone by the book.’”

  Greer pounded his desk, his voice erupting again as suddenly as it had quieted, “You don’t care! You're just here to punch in, ‘do your job’ and leave the PR debacle for the professionals to handle! Now, you’ve got a damn body count and Public Relations hasn’t even had their coffee yet!” Greer ruffled his feathers, his eyes almost manic, “they’re already calling me to explain why their citizens are falling victim to reckless police chases!”

  Duke winced but kept his face neutral, catching the way Rex shifted uncomfortably. Usually, Rex would be firing back with his own brand of sarcasm, but he clearly knew this was not the time.

  Greer continued, “What am I going to tell them, Calder? One of my best detectives happens to play differently than the rest of us? The rules don’t apply to him? At least we got the-” Greer caught himself with a mocking expression, “Oh! What was that?” Greer paused and put a hand to the side of his head as if to listen harder to what someone was saying. He paused to let the moment stew before erupting loud enough that Duke was certain everyone in the bullpen who wasn’t paying attention would be, “We didn’t even catch the suspect!”

  Greer tossed another clipping onto the desk in front of them. It was a blurry but damning photo of the Maysberry Bypass, littered with the aftermath of the chase: mangled cars, shattered glass, destroyed segments of the bridge, and animals standing around looking shell-shocked.

  Greer sneered, “Look at this. You look hard at it. You get away with quite a lot, Calder. This madness? I should throw you to the Mayor over this. You can tell them how your “unconventional methods” are actually a source of good for the city.”

  Greer hit the desk again with two fists and then threw himself back into his chair.

  “Did you hear? Eyewitnesses reported a daredevil leap from Cove Side Heights Park,” Greer said, voice barely above a snarl. “They all described it as ‘suicidal,’ like a damned circus act.” He pointed accusingly at Rex, “ Half of them think you’re an actual maniac.”

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  Greer then waved dismissively, closing his eyes as if he wanted to forget the moment, “Don’t even get me started on the Aetheric signatures.”

  Duke cleared his throat, “Chief, I get that it looks bad, but-”

  “But?” Greer’s beak clicked shut as he struggled for words. “There are no ‘buts’ here, Duke. Half the city is in lockdown. The vendors in the Harbor District are threatening lawsuits over damages, and the northbound bypass still looks like a warzone!” Greer leaned further back in his chair and made a dismissive wave, “You may as well have just let him go, Rex. Would have saved the city a PR nightmare.”

  Duke noticed Rex’s eye twitch and a slight agitation in his tail. Duke shifted slightly, “The day wasn’t a complete loss, Sir,” he offered “While Roadie is a small-time dealer, he did have Wyldfire in his stash.”

  Greer gave him a flat stare, the same dead-eyed look of a bird of prey sizing up dinner. “So while Calder’s out here jumping bikes, flipping trucks and dodging traffic, you’re arresting some toadie with a few doses of Wyldfire? That’s what you’re telling me?”

  Duke swallowed. “Sir, every piece counts. We—”

  Rex took that as his cue to speak again. “Chief, my—”

  Greer held up a finger, stopping Rex mid-sentence. “Don’t. Just—don’t.” He ran his fingers through his crest, and Duke could see how close he was to outright yelling again. “You’re both on administrative review. No field duty, no patrols. Just paperwork and evidence cataloging until the mayor’s office has calmed down. I can’t have you out there wreaking havoc while this station’s under fire.”

  Rex’s ears dropped to the back of his head, and his mouth opened with a protest hovering on his lips. Duke shot him a quick, pleading look. Rex’s jaw clenched, and he kept quiet.

  Greer took a deep, calming breath and sat back, fixing each of them with a hard stare. “I don’t want to see either of you near another high-speed chase until I personally clear you. Is that understood?”

  Duke nodded firmly. “Understood, Chief.”

  Rex didn’t respond immediately, but he finally dipped his head in a begrudging nod. He lived for the chase, the thrill, the chance to catch someone as dangerous as Gnash. Being sidelined? Duke could tell that this would weigh on him more than anything else.

  As Rex and Duke turned to leave, Chief Greer’s voice cut through the quiet hum of the bullpen beyond. “Hold it,” he said, his tone sharper, yet strangely calm. They both stopped, exchanging a look as Greer motioned toward the door. “Close the door.”

  Duke complied, swinging the door shut. The Chief’s face had shifted, the anger receding to reveal something colder—an expression Duke didn’t often see on him. Greer leaned back in his chair, his sharp gaze settling on Duke.

  “How confident are you that you can get something useful out of Roadie?” Greer asked, his voice low and steady. “Any lead.”

  “I can get something out of him,” Duke said, folding his arms thoughtfully. “He won’t give us much willingly, and even if he does, it’ll be at surface level. I am expecting to at least get a name of the person that he managed to acquire the hits from. I assume he is going to be released again, so once he is out we will just continue to keep an eye on him and use him as an unwilling, unofficial source. He’s good for tips here and there. Not much more.”

  Greer nodded, satisfied but still grim. He took a long breath and then turned to Rex.

  “Rex… What do you know about this suspect?”

  Rex’s ears perked up, a flicker of tension tightening his jaw. He nodded. “Back when I was undercover with the Crimson Ward. Gnash was one of their top enforcers. He was ruthless in the way he conducted his business.” Rex’s voice dropped. “I thought I’d taken care of him when the Ward Case was wrapped four years ago. I was sure of it.”

  Greer didn’t immediately respond. Instead, he sat with the information, looking somewhere past the two of them, a faint frown deepening on his brow. Duke glanced at Rex. The Ward case was years ago, and it was one of the few things Rex never talked about.

  Rex cleared his throat and continued, “The Crimson Ward was a syndicate that didn’t just deal in drugs, they trafficked aetherics and animals. Gnash was the best weapon they had. Least he was the best I had met.” He paused and a steely look crossed his eyes. “Chief, if we did not clean up the Ward, and they are operating in the open now, then we have a problem. I don’t know what Gnash is doing here, but he is dangerous.”

  Greer looked down, his beak tight as he stewed over the weight of Rex’s words. Duke couldn’t shake the feeling that the Chief knew more than he was letting on. When Greer looked up again, his expression was resolute.

  “Duke, link up with Flynn and see what you can squeeze out of Roadie before his lawyers get here and we have to let him go. Get whatever scrap of intel he’s got in that slimy little head of his.” Greer’s wings shifted, his tone hardening. “I am tired of you two scraping the bottom of the barrel. We need names--real ones. The sooner we can start putting heat on the right animals, the sooner the APD stops looking like it’s spinning its wheels. I am tired of receiving reports filled with small fry and dead ends. We need the animals pulling strings, not the ones slinging on the corners.”

  Duke nodded. “Understood, Chief.”

  Greer turned to Rex, and pointed with a deliberate and intense finger. “And you. I want a full report on the Crimson Ward. Details on Gnash, his crew, anyone he so much as bought a cup of coffee from, or whatever it was you all drunk down in the Laeyde. I want it in writing. I want it today.”

  Greer’s voice dropped a notch as the weight of his words grew heavier, “I don’t give a damn that the APD was not a part of that operation, your boy is in my city now.”

  The Chief’s gaze hardened, the piercing intensity back. “He made this personal with the damage he did to the bypass. He’s not just your problem, Calder. He’s a threat to the whole damn city, so don’t spare the details.”

  Rex’s jaw tightened, but he met Greer’s stare with a firm nod. “I’ll get it to you, Chief.”

  Greer sighed, and looked tired despite the morning, “You both are two of this station's best. Rex… You may be a manifold, but you are not immortal despite the damage you keep subjecting yourself to. When you are done with that report, take this opportunity to stop showing up to the office injured. If you don’t take care of yourself, how can we expect you to take care of the animals you swore to protect?”

  Rex remained silent, if he was planning on responding to Greer, Duke could not read it on his face.

  Greer’s glare lingered a moment longer before he exhaled sharply. “You’ve got your orders. Get out of my office.”

  He lifted his chin and gave a dismissive flick of his hand toward the door, already shifting his attention to the stack of reports on his desk. As Rex opened the door to leave, Duke glanced back, catching a glimpse of Greer reaching for the phone, muttering as he braced for the barrage of calls from the media and city officials.

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