Page 17 of The Claiming of the Shrew
Leah whipped out her phone and photographed it.
“Oh, comeon,” Fawkes said, retrieving it.
“You can get these online, I bet. I’m just gonna hang on to this picture.”
“Knock yourself out.”
Leah laid her phone on the table as if fully prepared to take more pictures. “So if you’re a P.I., what are you here to investigate?”
That was the $64,000 question, all right. “This needs to stay between us,” Fawkes said. “If anyone else finds out, it’ll completely blow my investigation.”
“I’ll have you know that I am amazing at keeping secrets. Don’t let the shrew fool you. I mean, my shrew probably wouldn’t be, but she’s on the inside, and also a shrew.”
Fawkes choked on a stifled laugh. “You know, the weird thing is, I believe you. Okay, so, my partner and I?—”
“You have a partner?” Leah looked shocked, and he could see her eyes darkening quickly.
“Work partner,” Fawkes hastily clarified. “In the agency.”
“Right—work partner. Sorry.”
“His name’s Sam. He’s a good guy. Anyway, I’m here on behalf of a client who hired us to look into a jewel theft. We believe the thief is here at the lodge, and I’m trying to figure out who it is.”
Leah’s jealous look faded as he talked, into a dawning expression of delight. “You’re investigating international jewel thieves? Count me in!”
“Not international—okay, maybe,” he had to concede. “This may be part of a string of thefts going back years. But then again it might not. Anyway, I’ve been looking around at night.”
“Iknewyou left your room last night!”
“Yeah, so being a raccoon shifter is honestly pretty handy as an asset for a private detective,” Fawkes said. “I’m nocturnal, can climb walls and trees, and absolutely do not mind pawing through trash in the slightest. Not to mention that raccoons are common, so the usual reaction of someone finding a raccoon in their trash is ‘Get out of my trash, you vermin’ and not ‘Ohno, someone’s going through my bills collecting evidence for a divorce lawyer’.’”
“Shrews are also nocturnal and sneaky,” Leah said leadingly.
“What? No—whatever you’re suggesting?—”
“We make a great team, don’t we? Hester already asked me to look into the thefts.”
“There have been more thefts? Here?”
“See? We need to share information. I can shift and get into places you can’t. Like under doors.”
He and Sam already used their shift forms extensively at work. PIs were legally constrained in a variety of ways, but raccoons couldn’t be busted for breaking and entering. The possibilities of being shrew-sized flowed through his mind—door cracks, drain pipes, becoming a shrew on the wall for important conversations ...
One potential difficulty in Leah’s situation occurred to him. She couldn’t possibly have overlooked it. And yet.
“When you shift,” Fawkes said, trying to approach his subject obliquely, “does your, uh—do your legs?—”
“Spit it out, man. If you’re asking if I’m still disabled as a shrew—yes,” Leah said without a flicker of upset. “Which is why I have this.”
She opened her handbag, felt around, and pulled out a toy-sized object which she put on the table.
Fawkes stared. Leah nudged it toward him, and he picked it up.
It looked like it had been made from the chassis and wheels of a small toy car. The car part had been removed above the base, leaving behind something a bit like a tiny skateboard. As if there was any doubt how she meant to use it, a layer of foam padding had been added, scooped out slightly in the center so that it formed a foam cradle—on which, say, a shrew could lie belly-first.
The entire thing was painted glittery pink and gold.
“I call it the shrewmobile. This is version like, well, we’re way beyond 2.0, more like version 10 or 12. I realize it’s not stealthy, but if anyone sees me on this, I think the gig is up anyway. Oh yeah, forgot this.”
