blueberry yoghurt, trail mix and caramel
Story: Timeless { backstory | index }
Title: Hounded
Rating: G
Challenge: Blueberry Yoghurt #3: a secret, Trail Mix #10: dining room
Toppings/Extras: caramel
Wordcount: 776
Summary: Robyn Walshe extracts information from a crook named Kito.
Notes: Four years post-Timeless. 2010 NaNo excerpt. And Trail Mix is done! Two flavours down!
The Rustler was a greasy, cheaply manufactured diner near the centre of town, although not on any main street. Nobody wanted tourists strolling into this particular diner: it was a quick and snide little eatery frequented by criminals. Robyn felt besmirched by just being there, and it showed on her face. The background noise was made up of the sizzle of food being deep-fried and constant bellowed orders as well as the hissing of coffee machines. A high percentage of the people within were male, and the females didn’t look entirely feminine.
It wasn’t an overtly dangerous place. The criminals that came here were the desperate kind only just clinging to their rent: the underdogs and cat’s-paws. Like Kito, the man sat across from her now. Most of them were also the exact kind of slimy greaseball that had nothing against selling out others like them, making it a good place to find snitches.
This wasn’t the first time Robyn had used Kito to get herself a head’s up on an investigation, and she highly doubted it would be the last.
“Moonquartz theft not ringing a bell for you at all?” she asked daintily after a few moments of silence. The thick-necked man in front of her was pulling every kind of face imaginable designed to show unwillingness. “Kito.”
“Don’t know why yer always houndin’ me out,” he muttered.
Not bothering to answer, Robyn pulled out the envelope that she and Victor had stolen from Ixby’s office and presented him with the three blurry CCTV stills of Ixby, Sensabaugh and their two assailants. Kito squinted at the photographs for a few moments and then heaped some mashed potato onto his fork and stuffed it into his mouth. Robyn watched impatiently as he chewed and swallowed.
“These’re big fish, Rob,” he finally said, looking uncomfortable. “I think you should leave this case well alone.”
Robyn sighed. Did he honestly believe that would put them off?
Behind her plastic seat, Victor was stood, austere grey eyes fixed directly ahead of him. His arms were folded and he wasn’t making eye contact with anyone if he could help it. He looked like an alabaster statue.
“Listen,” she said, leaning forwards and putting her elbows on the table. Robyn was not only a very tall woman but in peak physical condition-she took her working out seriously. Dressed in her usual loose-fitting combat trousers and vest (nobody could remember the last time the blonde woman had worn a dress or skirt), she tapped her booted foot against the floor with audible crunches from the steel caps. “I’m not asking you to warn me away from trouble. I’m asking for you to tell me what I want to know. We can take care of ourselves.”
She leaned back to highlight her point as somewhere above her head, Victor continued to stare ahead. Kito looked at him with bemusement; he had never been that sure about Victor.
“The LPD are gonna be all over this in a few days anyway. Just leave it,” Kito said, insistent. Robyn scowled. Her distaste for the Lunar Police Department was mostly because they had refused to hire her and it was the job she most wanted in the world, although she didn’t like to admit this. They had also cut up a lot of her own private investigations and usually snubbed her evidence as unreliable. As much as she liked DS Bower, she found it hard to forgive when her own cases were taken out of her hands.
“Like those jackasses are going to get anywhere with this,” she said jealously. Then, with her usual self-control, she reeled her temper in and tilted her head with a dangerous smile, glancing up at Victor before looking back to Kito. “Say, Kit, ever met a Blackledge before?” she asked sweetly.
“I knew it!” Kito said, glaring at Victor as though he had purposely hidden it. “You always gave me the creeps.”
Victor said nothing.
“You know what they say about Blackledges, don’t you?” Robyn asked, still smirking. “Victor here was one of the last ones, you know. Series V, Batch C. Have you heard about the stuff these kids can do? Fiery things, if you know what I mean. Painful things. If you like, I’ll get him to give you a demonstration...”
“No need,” Kita finally grumbled, before sticking a plastic fork into the processed sausage on his plate and stuffing it into his thick-lipped mouth. Robyn glanced away as he chewed loudly. “If you’re so desperate to know, I’ll tell you, but I’m tellin’ you that you don’t wanna get involved.”
“I’ll be the judge of that."