Read Online Lion And The Falcon (Furry United Coalition) by Eve Langlais - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Eve Langlais
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presumed, the poor soul who’d found her mother’s remains.
Assuming everyone was inside, Nolan followed the walkway, noting the missing heads on the towering sunflowers, the seeds scattered about on the cement slabs leading up to the front door. Given it was already slightly ajar, he didn’t bother to knock.
Upon entering the tidy home, Agnes’ familiar scent enveloped him, and a pang of sadness struck. What a shame about her untimely demise. He had quite liked the older matron, who despite her toad heritage and trademark croaky voice, treated him like a normal human being–—and made the best cookies. At least by moving the operation from the brownstone, they hopefully wouldn’t have to worry about any other of his staff becoming victims of the patients on the loose.
In search of Clarice and the other FUC agents, h e stuck his head through an archway and noted a simply furnished, yet comfortable-looking living room with a worn, flower patterned sofa and an armchair whose headrest bore a crocheted doily. Nobody here. He kept going up the hall to where he could hear the murmur of voices and from whence wafted the coppery stench of blood.
Nothing could have prepared him for what he found in the kitchen. “Good grief, what happened here?”
E yes dark and her lips twisted in anger, Clarice turned to face him. “Seriously? What’s it look like happened, Sylvester?”
“Looks like a travesty,” he moaned as he took in the blood-splattered walls along with the chunks of meat and bone tossed about the place.
The FUC agent, a snake by the name of Peter, looked a little greener than usual. He also held a big handkerchief up to his red nose. He sniffled wetly, and Nolan held in a shudder of distaste. Someone obviously had a cold.
The agent shook his head sadly. “Hey, doc. Thanks for coming.”
“Of course. I came as soon as I got the call.” Nolan ignored Clarice’s derisive sound.
Sweeping out his hands, Peter wheezed as he said, “This is what the daughter found when she came looking for her mother. Needless to say, she’s hysterical. Can’t say as I blame her. Who would do such a horrible thing?”
“ I don’t know, but they definitely need lessons in taste. Don’t they know HP sauce should never be used as a dipping sauce? The shame of it,” Nolan lamented.
“Doc!” Clarice’s blue eyes widened along with Peter’s.
“What? What’s the problem?” Nolan truly didn’t understand their horror.
“This is a crime scene. Have a little respect.”
“Yes, it’s a crime, a crime to coat perfectly good buffalo ribs with an over the counter steak sauce. Or am I the only one with a sense of smell here?”
Peter sniffled. “I have a cold and can’t smell a thing.”
And Clarice, as a bird, possessed a poor sense of smell to begin with. But Nolan couldn’t resist bugging them a little. “Oh come on, don’t tell me you all actually thought these hunks of beef belonged to Agnes?”
Judging by the shifting eyes and feet, they did. Nolan , however, a great weight easing from his shoulders, smiled. Clarice peered around and even knelt to the floor to turn over a hunk of flesh with the bone still attached. She snorted. “Dammit. The cat might have gone about saying it wrong, but he’s right. These aren’t human remains.”
“But the blood… the mess…” Peter pointed to the splatters.
“ Barbecue sauce and rib juice. By all appearances, Agnes brought home some meat from the butcher.” Nolan pointed to the stained brown paper under the kitchen table. “For whatever reason, she stepped out and someone broke in. Someone hungry and with no table manners.” He sniffed and frowned. Many odors crowded the space; serpentine, amphibian, buttery popcorn, his own, and Clarice’s, but under all that, he sensed another. The alien musk held hints of familiarity, but at the same time, seemed wrong. Very wrong to his finely tuned olfactory ability. “I can’t be sure, but judging by the odd
Assuming everyone was inside, Nolan followed the walkway, noting the missing heads on the towering sunflowers, the seeds scattered about on the cement slabs leading up to the front door. Given it was already slightly ajar, he didn’t bother to knock.
Upon entering the tidy home, Agnes’ familiar scent enveloped him, and a pang of sadness struck. What a shame about her untimely demise. He had quite liked the older matron, who despite her toad heritage and trademark croaky voice, treated him like a normal human being–—and made the best cookies. At least by moving the operation from the brownstone, they hopefully wouldn’t have to worry about any other of his staff becoming victims of the patients on the loose.
In search of Clarice and the other FUC agents, h e stuck his head through an archway and noted a simply furnished, yet comfortable-looking living room with a worn, flower patterned sofa and an armchair whose headrest bore a crocheted doily. Nobody here. He kept going up the hall to where he could hear the murmur of voices and from whence wafted the coppery stench of blood.
Nothing could have prepared him for what he found in the kitchen. “Good grief, what happened here?”
E yes dark and her lips twisted in anger, Clarice turned to face him. “Seriously? What’s it look like happened, Sylvester?”
“Looks like a travesty,” he moaned as he took in the blood-splattered walls along with the chunks of meat and bone tossed about the place.
The FUC agent, a snake by the name of Peter, looked a little greener than usual. He also held a big handkerchief up to his red nose. He sniffled wetly, and Nolan held in a shudder of distaste. Someone obviously had a cold.
The agent shook his head sadly. “Hey, doc. Thanks for coming.”
“Of course. I came as soon as I got the call.” Nolan ignored Clarice’s derisive sound.
Sweeping out his hands, Peter wheezed as he said, “This is what the daughter found when she came looking for her mother. Needless to say, she’s hysterical. Can’t say as I blame her. Who would do such a horrible thing?”
“ I don’t know, but they definitely need lessons in taste. Don’t they know HP sauce should never be used as a dipping sauce? The shame of it,” Nolan lamented.
“Doc!” Clarice’s blue eyes widened along with Peter’s.
“What? What’s the problem?” Nolan truly didn’t understand their horror.
“This is a crime scene. Have a little respect.”
“Yes, it’s a crime, a crime to coat perfectly good buffalo ribs with an over the counter steak sauce. Or am I the only one with a sense of smell here?”
Peter sniffled. “I have a cold and can’t smell a thing.”
And Clarice, as a bird, possessed a poor sense of smell to begin with. But Nolan couldn’t resist bugging them a little. “Oh come on, don’t tell me you all actually thought these hunks of beef belonged to Agnes?”
Judging by the shifting eyes and feet, they did. Nolan , however, a great weight easing from his shoulders, smiled. Clarice peered around and even knelt to the floor to turn over a hunk of flesh with the bone still attached. She snorted. “Dammit. The cat might have gone about saying it wrong, but he’s right. These aren’t human remains.”
“But the blood… the mess…” Peter pointed to the splatters.
“ Barbecue sauce and rib juice. By all appearances, Agnes brought home some meat from the butcher.” Nolan pointed to the stained brown paper under the kitchen table. “For whatever reason, she stepped out and someone broke in. Someone hungry and with no table manners.” He sniffed and frowned. Many odors crowded the space; serpentine, amphibian, buttery popcorn, his own, and Clarice’s, but under all that, he sensed another. The alien musk held hints of familiarity, but at the same time, seemed wrong. Very wrong to his finely tuned olfactory ability. “I can’t be sure, but judging by the odd
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