Secretaries

part 1

by: David R. Dorrycott

Nancy & Alpha Rote, Bethany Cartwright copyright Mr. Simon Barber.

Mrs. Portland’s Boston School of Secretarial Excellence. It was what one read as the morning sun reflected from a still new sign outside what had once been a respected maids school. Though only establish some seven years ago it too had already gained a reputation for well trained, ready and eager to work young women who were always an asset to their employers. Every morning young women walked across the street from a boardinghouse that itself had once catered to young maids in training, now with the change in ownership of the school had just as easily catered to these young women. It had required no change in morals or rules, simply the removal of everything maid orientated to be replaced by office related materials. For the boarding house it was business as usual, with almost the same quality of young women renting rooms, same moral rules and the same profit level.

For the old school however, many changes had been made. Almost none of the original staff had remained. Oh Miss Gerrison and Mrs. Keester, the two French poodles remained to teach etiquette, and the very popular mink Mr. Loperson remained to teach French. But other than those three instructors everyone else had moved on. Even the aging janitors and maintenance crew had been replaced with younger furs. Furs who understood the new technology, for in truth none of the old staff had the slightest idea of how to repair a typewriter or intercom. Certain not an adding machine.

All of these changes had been made in order to teach the new modern requirements of office work, while insuring that all staff were both reliable and well educated in the new technology. All this change had been made simply to keep up with advances in technology and standards of normal business buildings and private practice. As to why the change in ownership, with the crash of the stock market in 1929 followed by many families once rich being now near destitute, there were simply too many maids schools in Boston by 1930 and too few demands for them. In truth, many once well established and excellently trained maids now found themselves in bread lines, working in local Hotels or retraining to be a Secretary. Though the Depression was still in full force, business, military and government went on and no business or government could survive without well qualified Secretaries. All in all it turned out to be an excellent and very timely choice for everyone involved.

This particular morning a bright, young and somewhat attractive half-breed student known as Louise Witherspoon sat at her desk. She was one of twenty-three students in her class who had made it through the arduous and challenging two year course, all of who would now be granted choices in employment, or allowed to strike out on their own with diploma in paw. As with her classmates Louise was now awaiting possible assignments, for Mrs. Portland not only taught her students as well as possible, she also kept up to date lists of many hundreds of available positions. Not just in Boston or the state of Massachusetts, but the entire United States. There were even a few open positions outside the United States on those lists, though Mrs. Portland herself warned every student that to take such positions left them open and vulnerable to dangerous situations. Yet every year a few girls would take the chance, and to date letters continued to arrive from most of them describing their work, and the equipment that they had available to them.

Louise though wasn’t about to take such a dangerous chance. With only a single Uncle still alive, she intended to remain in the United States. But being a half breed, part squirrel, part chipmunk, she knew that her chances in Boston were slim. Even though she was pure whitefur. Not many companies wanted mixed breed employees in their front offices, and even fewer government agencies. When Mrs. Portland finally placed a sealed envelope on Louise’s desk the girl shivered in excitement. That had been a smile on her normally strict instructors face, a thing rarely given even to graduates. It was, the girl knew from observation, a sign of good luck.

Taking out her personal, and very well honed letter opener, Louise carefully slit open the envelope as she had been trained. Within her envelope were three possibilities of immediate employment, as were in all the envelopes given out. Louise was unsurprised to note that none of her offers were in or even near Boston. No, her dual species blood meant that few of the companies here would even grant her an interview. Though she was marked like a chipmunk, her squirrel blood was very evident in her face and tail. Certainly Boston would never hire one like her for front office work. For in Boston business the ugly muzzle of Specism was still quite strong. Almost as strong as racism, for if she had been even partially a darkfur Mrs. Portland would never have allowed her through her doorway. Reading her offers she was delighted to find one in San Frisco, New York and another in a place called Creekside. Of the three, a single star was placed on the Creekside pages lower left corner. It was a subtle indication that successful business had been done with this company before, and that at least one girl had been hired there in the past. It was, Louise noted, an opening to replace a secretary who had left, though no reason was given for that departure. Mrs. Portland would know of course, but that would be private information between the potential Employer and her. Certainly it was not information that Louise needed to know, unless that departure had been caused by the employers actions. In that case the offer would never have been given even the worst student. Making her decision Louise carefully wrote her name on the top of that last paper, returning the other two sheets into her envelope for another girl to chose from this afternoon.

Later, when she filed out of the room after turning her opened envelope over to Mrs. Portland, Louise wondered at the woman’s smile. It was so unusual. Was there something she should know, or had her grades really been so good as to have a choice employment opportunity placed into her paws. Well it really didn’t matter after all. She had a telegraph to send, one to her possible employer. Then if all went very well a very long train trip ahead of her. Such luck though, to have employment directly out of school. ‘I will of course start at the bottom’ She thought as she walked towards the telegraph office within the school itself. ‘As of course all graduating students must. But I will work my way up, and who knows what excitement I may find in even a Mid-Western town?’ Allowed but two short, free telegraph messages to her chosen employer, Louise was very careful how she phrased her first message.

That night, while Louise Witherspoon slept her last night in the boarding house a phone call was made to Creekside. An expensive call, but one of seven to be made that night. “She is perfect for your listed needs” Mrs. Portland told the listener. “Intelligent, exotic and almost no family to worry about her. And the flower we sent you last year?”

“Was excellent Miss Silver” a soft male voice answered. “Your share of the flowers value will be arriving by courier within the week, though she is as yet unemployed. Show my messenger a good time will you? These girls here, they are so full of... energy. Certainly you will find a place for her, she is a pretty purebred squirrel, though from a working class household, who believes she is doing me a great personal favor while on a trip to her grandmothers. Perhaps in one of the local towns there is a house with an empty bed?”

“Oh yes, certainly I know of several. I must say goodbye for now. As I have other calls to make. So. Goodbye Mr. Green.” Hanging up her phone the forty-some odd vixen known as Mrs. Portland by her students, Molls by her real friends and Miss Silver by her secret business contacts selected another number. Ginger was a very beautiful pure blooded arctic fox, and an orphan. Yes, she would do quite well in Dallas. For the short time that she would be living there. Before being shipped to Uavapacal. Instructing young girls in the career of successful secretaries paid the bills quite well, but it didn’t pay for the lifestyle Mrs. Portland was used too from her younger, more carefree days. And it wasn’t near enough in these very hard times to more than make ends meet. No, that required a much different form of business endeavor. A much less legal one. Young girls were always vanishing these days and no one cared what happened to those without family. Mrs. Portlands school was graduating over a hundred and sixty girls this year, that seven would eventually vanish within the next year was not even worth noting.

Louise’s trip to Creekside was as she expected long, and rather boring after the first few hours. She had visited her Uncle before leaving, promising to write weekly and visit on Christmass. Now she was on her own, completely. Again she read the paper she had put her name on. A dollar thirty cents an hour, with her room, board and federal tax automatically deducted at thirty cents an hour. Leaving her a dollar, unless she moved to other than the boarding house selected by her employer. She would receive breakfast and supper each day as part of her board, lunch though was her own responsibility, except for weekends. Pay to be given every Friday. A full week off for Christmass and after a year a whole day a month of vacation time would accrue. She would, of course be responsible for any other needs that she might have, and was required to attend the church of her choice each Sunday. Beyond that her life was her own. Why, eight dollars a day, more if she worked late. At least forty dollars a week, over two thousand a year. It was more money than she had seen in her life! She was beside herself with joy.

When she arrived at Creekside no one was there to meet her. Of course, she had been warned about that. ‘Do not speak to anyone but the police and taxi drivers, for there are dark hearted furs who troll the train stations in search of young women alone’ Mrs. Portland had warned her. And this warning had been repeated, in different words, by her new employer. ‘Ask to be taken to Mrs. Gregory’s Boarding House. It is across the street and one block North of our offices’ the telegram had stated. ‘It should cost you but twenty-five cents for the taxi ride. No more than thirty. Do not pay beyond that for I will not reimburse more.’

It had cost twenty five cents for the ride, and in good spirits Louise tipped the old rottweiler an extra nickle after he carried her case to the boarding house door. And so, by three o-clock on a Saturday afternoon, Louise Witherspoon found herself with a room on the third floor who’s single window opened to a view of the small river that ran East of Creekside, and the very expensive homes that had been built across that little river up on the bluffs. Unknown to her she would soon stumble across a friend who was much welcome in those homes. Especially a certain home.

“Welcome to Patterson, Jenkins and Davidson Miss. Witherspoon” the ferret, Uriah Jenkins, said to Louise when she stepped into his office Monday morning. “I am happy to see that you arrived safely. Now, have you any questions before I send you to Mrs. Freedham to fill out your paperwork?”

“Not really sir. I will be working in the Pool then?”

“Pool. Oh, secretarial pool. No Miss Witherspoon. We only have but three secretaries here at most I am afraid, and it is Mr. Davidson who needs a secretary. I am afraid that his last young lady simply did not work out. She left one Friday saying she was going home to Chicago, would be gone no more than a week and never even bothered to come back. It has been a month and a half with no contact, thus we contacted your school. It does have such a wonderful reputation. I do hope that you will not be doing the same, poor Franklin. He has such bad luck with keeping Secretaries it seems.”

“Certainly not sir” Louise answered, shocked at the idea of simply leaving any employment without the customary two week notice. “Is there anything else sir?”

“Not a thing my dear. If you will speak to my secretary Mrs. Freedham I am certain that she will get you straightened away very quickly.” He smiled as the young girl left. Poor Franklin he thought. Just as he had them trained to work well with him they all took off, most likely hired by the larger law offices up North. Why, he had lost young Phillipa three years ago. Most likely in the exact same way. It was so hard to keep a small law office attractive to the younger sort. Still they tried.

Franklin Davidson Louise discovered, was a non-decrypt looking mutt. Well, mutt her Uncle would have called him. It was obvious to her that the middle aged canine had at least three different canine bloods within him. Still he greeted her warmly, though with a kind of sadness in his face. It was, she decided, as though he already knew that by this time next year he would be looking for a new secretary. She decided then and there that she would do all that she could to disprove him of that belief. And she did like him upon first meeting him. Her first work was to catch up on things that had gathered since her predecessor had departed. Rose, as the girls notes indicated her name had been, had been meticulous. There was absolutely nothing wrong with the girls filing system, the notes she had left behind before her ‘vacation’ were clear and concise. As Louise worked to clear up the backlog she began to wonder. It was obvious from how things had been left that Rose had fully intended to return, but what had happened to change her mind.

It was late when Mr. Davidson came out, surprised to find Louise still busy at her task. “Time to go home” he reminded Louise. “Why, you have missed supper. Come with me then. I will buy you something to take you to morning. This evening only.”

“Thank you sir” Louise answered. “But I still have some money. Certainly I can find something, it is only eight after all.”

The canine barked laughter. “Young lady, this is Creekside. Not Boston. Why they roll up the sidewalks at eight pm. Yet, yes. Hardlies is open until eleven. It is only a two block walk. Please, let me treat you tonight, you have been working so hard.” He apparently remembered something then as he became melancholy. “So did Rose as I recall, and Elizabeth and June. Just what is it about me that runs young women off after just a year of employment.”

“I do not know sir” Louise admitted. “From my position you have been nothing but a gentleman and quite delightful to work for. Perhaps you should write them and ask.”

“Oh I have, and every letter has been returned as undeliverable. It is much as though they simply vanish into thin air. Almost like that Nancy Rote did last year, but unlike her they never turn up anywhere.”

“Then I shall write their last known address’s myself sir. One really must know, and perhaps a letter from a woman will be received more graciously than one from an man. Now, you were going to take me to dinner kind sir?”

As they left a large bulldog watched them from the window of his office. Puffing his cigar the lawyer known as Richard Patterson nodded to himself. This new girl was a perfect choice. Intelligent, shapely, poised, humor and such a beautiful fur pattern as well. He had a great hate for Davidson’s family, though the other lawyer had no inkling of such. Slowly breaking this member of that hated branch that had placed his great Uncle on the gallows had turned from vengeance, to an enjoyable and very profitable hobby. Turning to his own waiting secretary he smiled. Karen was currently laying across his desk, exactly as he had trained her over four years ago, her clothing carefully folded and placed upon the divan, her collar and leash already in place. Yes, the rabbit was still quite the looker, she would be for ten or fifteen more years, but he was tiring of her. Perhaps it was time for her too move on as well. Exactly as seven other girls had since his arrival in Creekside. Not right now though, it wasn’t a good idea for two girls in the same company to vanish within months of each other. Besides, under his instructions Karen would openly resign after taking employment elsewhere. Most likely New Amsterdam or San Frisco. Of course she would never arrive at either of those destination. A Canadian had an open bid for her. That would be her next home. She was so well trained now after all, unlike that vixen Rose who was still proving somewhat difficult. Still he had time before the Annual Christmas party, when he traditionally presented his new girls to his house in Silverton. Plenty of time, no need to hurry at all.

Sunday found Louise in church. She had asked the other two secretaries, and had been given this ones name as ‘most open, no matter your economic situation.’ Upon settling in near the back she discovered exactly what that meant. Though the older rich did tend to congregate into a certain area, it was very obvious to her that the younger members of that social group settled easily within others of their age group, rather than holding court in a pre-selected elite area. Being Baptist herself, she was busy reading through the Southern Baptist hymnal to discover the differences when a smell of starch and delicately scented soap enveloped her. Looking up she found that a slightly younger raccoon had settled down beside her.

“We usually start with Rejoice, Ye Pure in Heart” the well dressed raccoon whispered. “Here, let me have your Hymnal a moment.” Before Louise could stop her the girl had pulled a small notebook from somewhere, and carefully writing on a sheet while using the pale blue-green book as a table filled in several lines with delicate block text, then returned book and paper to her. “You can set your watch by Father Brighton. He always ends his sermon exactly at eleven fifty-five, just enough time for one last hymn then everyone can get home in time for one pm lunch without rushing. Hello, I’m Bethany. Bethany Cartwright. And you are?”

“Louise. Louise Witherspoon” Louise answered. “I am a secretary at Patterson, Jenkins and Davidson. I just arrived from Boston this week.”

“PJD. Oh yes, I know them well” the raccoon admitted. “They are my family’s lawyers, though I do not much like Mr. Patterson. He always seems to be looking at me as though I were unimportant. Oh dear, here comes the good Reverend. We can talk more at lunch. My treat.”

“But” Louise started to say when everyone around her abruptly stood. Hurrying to stand herself she glanced at the raccoon beside her. Very well dressed, money. Probably old money. Certainly well above her own social status. Then she joined the rest in singing Rejoice, Ye Pure in Heart. It proved to be a very fulfilling sermon Louise decided later. She liked Father Brighton and the owl seemed to know exactly how to phrase his sermons to keep one interested, but not overwhelmed. Yes she decided as she sang the last hymn along with the others, this was the House of God she had been looking for all her life.

When church was over Louise made her best attempt to slip out unnoticed, but this was not to be. The elder women had noted her attendance and within twenty feet of leaving her pew Louise found herself surrounded, then edged out of the main line of traffic by six matrons with all sorts of questions. Although they were most polite, being asked if she had a boyfriend yet, followed by clucking and knowing looks when her answer was no warned the secretary that by this afternoon lists would be exchanged. Why, next week she would find herself none too subtly introduced to half a dozen quite eligible bachelors. These then were the matchmakers.

“And how did you find our church” a thin, but happy sounding rabbit asked finally.

“I much enjoyed the sermon” Louise admitted. “I think. Well I think that this is the church I have looked for all my life. It feels so friendly here, and the Reverend gives an excellent sermon.”

“Reverend? Oh, then you are from the North then” the rabbit asked. “We refer to him as a Pastor here.”

“Yes Mam. I was raised in Boston. I have taken employment here at Patterson, Jenkins and Davidson as Mr. Davidson’s new Secretary.”

“Really? To travel so far for employment. What must your family think” a greying skunk asked.

“My Uncle does worry about me Mam, but I have no other family. They were killed in a house fire when I was but one” Louise explained. “When I spoke with my Uncle last, his was the opinion that it was time I flew from the nest, to make my own way. Though he will hold for me a room should I ever need it. I am all the family he has you see.”

Thankfully Louise found herself rescued by the raccoon Bethany Cartwright before any further questions could be asked.

“Sorry ladies” the raccoon said as she grabbed Louise’s arm. “My father wishes to meet Miss Witherspoon, and as Jacob is already waiting with the automobile, thus I simply must take her from you now.” She smiled at the six women, guiding Louise away from their little trap as though she did it every day. As soon as they were out on the main sanctuary Bethany released a held breath. “Those six. Every since Nancy’s assault they have been trying to find another juicy tidbit to gossip about. Come come, father is waiting and he really does want to talk to you. So does mother.”

“Nancy? Nancy whom” Louise asked, then planted her feet stopping the raccoon’s forward momentum. “Please Miss Cartwright, I barely know you. Prey tell just what is going on?”

Bethany laughed. “Very well, Nancy Rote, a very dear and old friend of mine who experienced a horrid event yet is still my best friend. She always says that I do tend to get ahead of myself. Please, walk with me else others will arrive like ants to honey.” As they walked Bethany explained further. “Patterson, Jenkins and Davidson represent my fathers business in various ways. Father is in the railroads you see, and other shipping. He is of course interested in all things dealing with that company, and as Rose had become rather important regarding certain legal actions Mr. Davidson is covering for Father, he is much interested in what happened to her. Plus, well Mother liked her a great deal. She once mentioned that Rose and Mr. Davidson would make an excellent couple. In truth,. This was just a week before Rose vanished.”

“Thus your seemingly accidental sitting beside me in Church.”

Bethany laughed gently. “Miss Witherspoon please. I am no Sleuth such as my friend Nancy Rote, to slip among the shadows as though born there. To look upon a scene and see that which the average eye would miss. No, that is simply where I always sit. Where Nancy and I sit. It was only when I spoke with father a few minutes ago that I made the connection. And yes, I am always just as friendly with every young lady who first shows up at our church. Mother says it makes me a good Christian, but the real reason is” the raccoon leaned over to speak softly into Louise’s ear. “To determine how dangerous she is to me regarding my own boyfriends. Forewarned is forearmed after all.”

“Oh. Well.” Louise blushed deeply. “I have been so busy with my studies to become a secretary of late. So much so that I honestly haven’t thought about boys. At least not much, other than my dreams.” She pulled her arms around her a bit tightly. “We are of course of different social positions Miss Cartwright. Certainly no one you are interested in would give one of my low position and birth more than a cursory glance. And well, it will be months. Simply months before I even start thinking of such things. I have my career to worry about first. My career and I must first ascertain that I am fully acceptable to my employers. You see, I find that I like Creekside. It is a very nice town. One I would not be adverse to bringing a family into, living the rest of my life around.” She stopped abruptly. “I am sorry Miss Cartwright, but my bus is due in but a very few minutes. Please give your father my regards, but I cannot miss this bus as they only run once every two hours on Sundays. Nor, in all honesty, should I speak with one of my employers clients before clearing it with him first. So, perhaps I shall see you another time?”

Turning quickly Louise hurried down the street to where a brightly painted red over yellow city bus could just be seen coming their way. By one o-clock she had finished the light lunch her landlady presented on weekends and was back in her room, locking her door behind her. “That Miss Cartwright” she gasped, holding one paw to her stomach as something moved disagreeably, for the lunch had been warmed over supper leaving in part, and the gravy was much too greasy for her Northern tastes. “To think that I would speak of my employers business. Why of all the nerve.” Looking around her she decided that what she needed was a rearrangement. Why, that chair simply would do better there. And the table! What Louise really needed though was a friend, and right now the only woman who had approached her in a friendly manner outside of work had just shocked her greatly.

“Why of all the... No” Bethany decided as she watched the attractive half-breed walk away. “No. Not cheek. She is frightened, and I did come on much too strongly. Nancy always said that I should learn restraint. Still, father did wish to speak with her. Perhaps I should speak with him before I do anything rather rash.” Then she too turned, walking towards a waiting large cream colored touring car. There she settled into the back with her father.

“And” the older man asked softly after instructing his driver to take them home.

“She is cautious Father, as befits one working for Mr. Davidson. I pressed quickly as you requested and for but a few moments she followed. Then her better sense, and her excellent training took over. I think that you will have no worry of her prattling on to friends an co-workers about your business. At least at this moment I should think that.”

“Our business my dear. Still and all. Rose was as closed mouthed about business as any could hope for. I truly miss her, she and you mother got along famously. I must assure myself that this Louise is not her anti-thesis. Befriend her my dear. Befriend her as your friend Nancy showed you how but be careful. There are rumors that Rose left her train between stops. Possibly unwillingly, as some of her things were left in disarray. If so, there will be danger afoot.”

“As you wish father, but I am not Nancy Rote. I do not have her talent nor her ability to bring together two unrelated strands of thought into new evidence. Nor am I at all comfortably with Sleuthing without her as my close mentor. For myself father, it is great excitement. For Nancy. Father, though it cost her dearly, for Nancy I know it is her calling. One day I believe that we will both be proud to call her friend.”

Her father nodded in agreement. “Which is why she, not you found herself a captive in Darkie town. Abused, ruined, discarded by society through no action or desire of her own. No my darling Bethany, I have not made the mistake Nancy’s father made. I will not one evening receive a telegram that you are missing. Having Landry’s company watch over you at certain times may be a touch expensive, but losing you before you marry would be more so to your mother and I. You are our favorite child you know.”

“Perhaps father, but you cannot keep me caged for life. I am near enough nineteen now to call myself such. Why even young Louise is but twenty herself. Twenty-one at the most. I will have my own life father.”

Her father waved his free paw in dismissal. “Are not your farm boys enough adventure for you my child? Do you truly desire to find yourself bound, used like some animal, stripped of all dignity, all propriety? Do you really desire to be as your friend Nancy, shunned by those who but the day before had been your friends?”

“No father” Bethany admitted, her voice lowering. “I am no Nancy. I have not her kind of hunger for wild adventure, her brilliant mind or her strength to carry on after such a thing. I would have killed myself from the shame. Still she is my friend and no matter what you and mother might say, I will not turn my tail to her. She was there when I needed help, when no one came to aid me. When no one wished to be my friend because they believed you a child seller. It was she who taught me how to be a Lady on the outside, how to hide my own wild urges from proper society. It was her hard work that proved the true criminal was Charles, not yourself. It was Nancy who cleared your good name. And you wish me to turn from her? No father, I will not.”

 “Very well then. You will make friends with this Louise. Not today my dear, Tuesday. There is something going on in that business that bothers me, and though I do trust Davidson, it is the others who hold the real power there. I am too close to the Governor, and too much his friend to allow my family or my business to be drawn into something shady. You will send a telegram to Miss Rote, this afternoon. You will ask her what to do. I will give you all the reports I have been given by Pat Landry. There are hints, but they are only hints, and without proof I cannot act. Nor may the police officially open their eyes with but what little we have now. But you will be careful, for as you admit my dear daughter, you are no Nancy Rote. And Bethany, I would never ask you to turn away from Nancy. Friends like her are rare, and to no fault of her own that others more powerful found her desirable. But for the luck of a coin toss would have gone any other Hill Lane girl. Yourself included.”

“No, I am not father. Perhaps. Oh if we could only convince her to come home this summer. She would make all sense of this within weeks.”

Her father snorted, the elder Raccoon looking away a moment. “As much as I dislike admitting this my dear Bethany, your friend has more brains in her tail fur than the best law enforcement in all of Creekside. If it were not for her age, I would endorse her for Chief of Police right at this moment. ”

Bethany giggled. “And her female sex bothers you not my dear father?”

“Were I not married and so deeply in love with your mother. Oh yes Bethany, there were days last year before she left that I looked upon your friend Nancy and wondered. Were I younger, would I be of interest to her. Like your mother she is intelligent, fair to look upon. But unlike your mother she has that fire within her to reach into places others shed away from. No my dear daughter, Miss Rote being female makes no difference to myself, not those who stand with me in the business world. Once she amused us, then she impressed us. After her abduction she most surely impressed us. Though there is no possibility that her soul remains unharmed, her mind is the best. Should she desire the position, and complete the schooling required oh yes, we would support her fully. If she does not. If she instead continues with what she vowed to do and search out such monsters within our world. Oh trust me in this my dear daughter. We will still support her just as fully. Remember that after her leaving for Songmark that Paul Gerhards granddaughter vanished while on Sunday picnic, and with no reason. Nor has any evidence of her been found, only that she walked to a hidden dirt lane and entered a waiting motor vehicle. It is his belief that only Nancy could find her, and to this end he has arranged quite a sum in reward for her return. Alive preferably, her body if not and either way whomever took her upon a platter ready for his carving. So yes, send your telegram, and a letter explaining all. Then make friends with this Louise, before she too vanishes. Now, no more of this until after lunch, and then only when we are in my study.”

Thus it was on that Sunday afternoon a telegram arrived at Songmarks gates. Though Nancy was on pass, the envelope was left on her bed. When the squirrel read it she was stunned. First this evidence against her beloved Mr. Simmons, now this telegram from her best friend Bethany Cartwright.

Nancy. Stop.

Interesting case Creekside. Stop. Many missing young girls. Stop. Not as your case. Stop. Father asks you investigate. Stop. I am gathering information. Stop. May have possible useful contact. Stop. Letter follows. Stop. Please come. Stop. I miss you so dearly. Stop.

Bethany. Stop.

Setting the telegram aside she weighed her new problem against her old one. To end Simmons hunting, or was this further hunting by the Zebra. And Bethany, gathering information? The dear girl could barely drive without hitting something. She would need to speak to Alpha before making any decision. And both of them read that letter.

While cleaning and rearranging furniture Louise had stumbled across a small book. A Diary. Reading it she was first stunned, then accepted that for some reason she had been given the same rooms the previous secretary Rose had inhabited. Tthough in the truth of things, it would not be unexpected for such a thing to occur. This diary had fallen behind a night stand and been captured by the cheaply constructed frame, thus missed when the room had been cleaned and readied for her arrival. At first Louise had thought of turning it over to Mr. Davidson, then as with most young women curiosity overcame her. It was late that night and nearly the last entry that shocked the half-breed.

“Mr. Davidson has asked me to marry him. I have privately decided to agree, subject to Grandmothers acceptance. I travel Sunday by train to speak with her, then back by Thursday latest. Oh diary, to find love with such a wonderful man. It has been my dream, one I never expected to become reality. Yes, I will marry him and remain his devoted secretary, for he is such a wonderful man and an excellent lawyer. Good night my diary, and know that my dreams will be of him tonight. Of him, and the many children that I will happily bear for him.”

The following few entries were more of the same, yet Rose apparently had not told Mr. Davidson her answer as yet. It looked to the young woman as though Rose were holding it as a surprise, insuring first that her Grandmother would bless the union, or at least clearing the air before dropping that surprise upon her. “There is not any possibility that she would run off” Louise whispered. “Not willingly. I must write her grandmother. Perhaps her grandmother said no, and in despondence. Oh dear she would not have done that. Surely not. Better to marry without such blessing than to take ones own life. Surely.” Setting the book aside she took out her writing slope, paper and her best pen. Then carefully she began composing her letter to Rose’s grandmother.

Tuesday found Bethany waiting in the buildings lobby as Louise came down the stairs. “Yes Miss Cartwright” Louise asked politely, yet in reserve when the younger woman approached her.

“I have come to apologize” the raccoon answered. “It was crass of me to move forward so quickly. May we please start over?”

“Your father still desires to talk with me about my employers business” Louise asked politely, though there was great reserve in her voice. “I have spoken with Mr. Davidson. He informed me that my silence in such matters is of grave importance to him. Thus I can not.”

Bethany winced. “Yes Miss Witherspoon, he does. However only should you desire and have permission to speak with him. You see, Rose was very tight lipped about what happened within these walls, and as Mr. Davidson does work for him he desired to know if you were like Rose, or not.”

“Thank you for the honesty of your answer Miss Cartwright” Louise answered. “You may tell your father that Mrs. Portland’s Boston School of Secretarial Excellence delves deeply into the responsibility of a secretary to retain the confidences of her employer. He will have no fears that I may let slip something of importance about his business to anyone, nor anyone else’s business to any other. Certainly not those who would in any way profit by knowing his business.”

“Thank you Miss Witherspoon. Now please, may we set that aside for now? I would like to try again, if you are acceptable.”

“One question first” the half-breed asked. “Why?”

Bethany smiled coyly. “I could say because my father told me too. Well he did, but I would never befriend someone simply because my father told me too. I could say that I find you interesting, I do. Still no, that isn’t the reason. I will be honest with you Miss Witherspoon, there are two very good reasons. Both are quite selfish. First, because I would not turn my tail to Nancy I have lost a lot of those I believed to be my friends. I am not proud of what happened to her, but she is a true friend and I do not turn my tail on true friends. I am though proud of how she escaped her imprisonment, and what she has done with her life since. Though I will be quite honest with you, the Nancy Rote I said goodbye to at the airport last year was not the same Nancy Rote I said goodbye to the evening before her kitnaping. Not by a great deal. In truth, I do not think that even her father knows how greatly she has changed. She looked at me differently that last day.”

“The second is quite selfish Miss Witherspoon. Quite selfish. You see, I am not attending University. I made a deal with my father. As my grades are not so wonderful as to grant me entrance into a good University, I decided that I would prove myself by learning his companies as he did. For father never attended higher education either, though in truth grandfather was well off due to his gold mining in his younger years. Therefore father has placed me as secretary to Mr. Harcourt Worton, who is in charge of shipping at fathers tractor plant. I am afraid that I am having a great deal of trouble learning the job requirements, and as you are a formally trained secretary. Well, I will be quite happy to pay you for lessons. Mr. Worton has agreed that I may bring you to my office tonight, and to make any changes to my office that you may believe will help me with my work.”

“You.. A secretary” Louise giggled. “Why your dress is worth more than I make in a month.”

“Secretary, or a very strict Catholic University” Bethany admitted. “Four years of that would drive me bonkers. Quite fully bonkers.”

Louise giggled again, holding out her right paw. “Hello, my name is Louise. Louise Witherspoon. And you are?”

“Bethany” the raccoon echoed, taking Louise’s paw. “Bethany Cartwright. Now, about my need for secretarial training?”

“I would like to see your office first. Is that is truly possible?”

In answer Bethany released the half-breeds paw, opening her purse to remove a ring of keys. “I suggest dinner first, it is a ten mile drive.”

“You have a car?”

“It belongs to Nancy. She loaned it to me while she is away. But yes, for now I have a car. Shall we dine?”

“Why, I would be delighted Bethany. Shall we call this a business dinner, or a date?”

“Business please” Bethany answered with a blush. “I am afraid that well.. I am..”

“Neither am I that I know of” Louse admitted. “Shall we go? And you simply must tell me more of this Nancy Rote whom you keep mentioning.”

“Not during a meal” Bethany cautioned as she walked them to her waiting car. “Her fate was not one for the faint of heart, or weak of stomach.”

“Very well then, on the drive to your office will be time enough. But please, I must inform Mrs. Gregory why I will not be to supper, and whom I will be out late with. I simply will not do for her to worry, or imagine that I am out with some local boy at this time of night.”

“Certainly, and you live where?”

Louise pointed down the street. “If you will wait it will be but a few moments.” She dashed off, after insuring that it was safe to cross the street, then returned many minutes later quite nearly out of breath. “I have not run so much since I was twelve” Louise laughed. “She knows of you and agrees that I should be quite safe in your company.” Both girls laughed as they tumbled into Bethany’s car for a short drive to the raccoon’s favorite feeding grounds.

Later that evening, after eating and driving to the factory where the raccoon worked, Bethany opened her office door, turning on the overhead light. “It is rather small” Louise admitted after looking around Bethany’s little office. A locked door with a frosted window obviously led to Mr. Worton’s office. Louise did not even try the door, accepting not only that it would be locked, but that she had no business at all within it. “You have good light from the skylight, but your desk is pressed too closely to the wall with the light striking you from the front. It should be far enough out that you may sit comfortably, and be able to respond to Mr. Worton’s call quickly. Also that the light comes from behind you, not striking your eyes.” She spent the next ten minutes simply looking around, mentally moving filing cabinets and chairs while trying not to remember the fate of one Nancy Rote, for at her insistence Bethany had held nothing publicly known back. That such a terrible fate could happen to a lowly secretary, yes there were the horror stories, girls who had vanished either before arriving, or shortly after arriving to their destinations. Such things will happen to the untrained. Yet Mrs. Portland’s had an entire two hour class training one how to recognize an employer who might do such a thing, and the men who trolled bus and train stations for unwary women of their ages and position. But a high society lady taken from her own home. How unbelievable a thing. At least she had not come with kit from her experience. Finally Louise pushed those horrid images away, concentrating on the job at paw.

It was nearer ten pm than nine when Louise declared that Bethany’s little office was as ready as they could make it. They had moved the heavy oaken desk from the South wall to the North, where the rooms only window now would throw light from behind the raccoon instead of in her face. Certain other furniture had been moved, most notably the three dark oak filing cabinets that must date back to the mid-1800's. They now sat together, not spread about the room and Bethany was delighted that she had five less steps to travel from her chair to Mr. Worton’s door.

“This is all we may do with this room” Louise announced finally, brushing dust off her skirt. “You must spend tomorrow cleaning, for there was a great amount of lost dust hidden by those filing cabinets. In truth it is but a little smaller office than my own, yet I have only one visitors chair where you have two large overstuffed ones. Perhaps your Mr. Worton will allow you to replace them with more practical furniture, it does not do for a visitor to become too comfortable in the secretary’s chambers. Their minds may wander, and they may find themselves observing you more than you would find pleasing.”

“More of Mrs. Portland’s training” Bethany asked as she carefully locked her door behind them.

“Quite Miss... Bethany. We have a daily one hour class for three months regarding office decor, and what may or may not be permitted by visitors. Even the most favored visitors. Decorum is most important. Everything we do and say reflects upon our employer. Why, it is possible to destroy a thriving business simply by treating each visitor poorly. Such is not to be allowed, for by doing so we destroy our own source of employment.”

“Likewise we may impress such visitors with our professionalism, thus improving the companies chances for success” Bethany asked as they approached her car.

“Likewise” Louise agreed. “Though becoming too friendly with a customer is a horrid mistake, as they may believe you have interest in them beyond that of business. When such occurs, one may find oneself abruptly upon the streets with a very poor letter of recommendation, if any. Ones morals and life must always be above reproach.”

“In public?” the raccoon asked as she slipped behind the roadsters wheel.

“Bethany. Every woman has needs for entertainment, both public and private. There are places we may attend that we may be certain our employers customers will not see us, or if seeing us not recognize us. Even so we must always be observant, to insure that should one who knows us see’s, and recognizes us that we may maintain our composure, and reflect positively upon our employers. Such as at a motion picture theater. Why slumping in our chair is completely unacceptable, likewise sitting ramrod straight is also unacceptable. We are expected to enjoy our pleasures, yet not revel within them as a low class woman would. And our dress must always be acceptable, clean and in good repair. Why, even in this work tonight it was my responsibility to explain to Mrs. Gregory where I was and why I would be very late returning to my rooms. You see she locks the front door at nine PM. Thus one without a key, such as myself, would find oneself sitting upon the stoop all night unless previous instructions were given. Or should Mr. Davidson abruptly need me to appear at the office it must be known where I am. Your inviting me to spend the night at your home, and your family being of such high moral reputation retains my reputation, and thus the reputation of my employer. In truth Bethany, my being acquainted with you quite improves my reputation, if only so little.”

After returning to Bethany’s borrowed car Louise remained silent as her new friend drove them to the entrance. There they stopped at the gate, Bethany signing a log for the elderly bulldog who was on duty before driving them off into the night. As Bethany turned onto the two lane paved road towards her own home she thought about what Louise had been saying. Her father had always told her that doing right, and standing by ones friends made a person worth knowing. Proved them to be worth trusting even if one disliked the other. Yet here was an intelligent young woman. Of a lower social class yes, and half-breed at that. Still Louise was an intelligent young woman who’s very survival depended upon her actions, morals and reputation. Why a single stain would damage her future. Something like what happened to Nancy. Bethany shivered. No one would hire a secretary with that reputation, no one. Her best future would be a poor one, a very poor one. Where Nancy had simply stood, made a decision and gone to Songmark for training. Such a decision would not be allowed one like Louise. No, it would be at best a nunnery for such a person. Or Wyde street. The image of that street, she and Nancy had followed the man Charles to it in their investigations, sent a tremble of disgust through the raccoons body. What she had seen that night had sickened her.

Still Bethany was Bethany and when she spotted the well known mule walking along the road she couldn’t help herself. Much to Louise’s horror the raccoon pulled over, turning to wave as the mule trotted up. “Karl, long time no see” the raccoon called. “Ride home?”

Karl stopped next to the car, noting the very pretty half-breed Louise sitting next to his sometimes girlfriend. “Kinda ride” he asked in that near dull farm workers tongue of his.

“Just to Farmer Tallon’s gate tonight Karl, it is only what, three miles?”

“Bit more, Mam,?” he asked, doffing his battered hat to hold it in his paws as he looked to Louise. Looked, and wondered.

“Louise, this is Karl. He works for Farmer Tallon, who is a friend of my fathers. Karl, this is Louise Witherspoon. She has just come to Creekside from Secretary school and now works for Mr. Davidson. Louise, would you mind if I give Karl a lift? It is threatening rain and he is a dear friend.”

“You make such friends” Louise admitted. “Certainly, I would be loath to refuse a friend transportation. Please.” She stepped out of the car carefully, watching as Bethany and Karl opened the rumble seat. Karl eased his considerable bulk into it before the two girls returned to their seats and drove away. “You have known him long” Louise asked, knowing that Karl could hear every word.

“Five, six years” Bethany answered. There had been a pause though before that answer, as though the raccoon was debating something. They chatted further, but Bethany seemed not to want to talk much about Karl. That was until they pulled up to a pair of stone columns and Bethany stepped out to close the rumble seat. Though Louise sat in the car, she could see through the rear view mirror as tail lights illuminated a scene that simply should not be. The very proper high society raccoon was obviously well known to the poor farmhand. From where his paws wandered, and where clothing moved much too well known. Then Bethany was back behind the drivers seat, her eyes very bright.

“Perhaps I should go home” Louise whispered before Bethany set the car in gear. “Sitting on the stoop is not such a bad thing, or I may wait in the buildings lobby that my company is in.”

“Go home?” the raccoon asked, glancing at the mules back as he vanished into the night. “Why Louise dear. What ever for?”

“I... I saw. In the mirror, what...” Louise blushed, looking away from Bethany, unable to speak.

“What you saw” the raccoon continued very carefully. “Was a sometimes lover making certain that what he remembered from before was still true tonight.” Bethany eased the car up to thirty miles an hour, not the maximum speed for this road but it was late, and there was little traffic. Besides, a single fat drop of rainwater had just hit the windscreen and wreaking her friend Nancy’s automobile wasn’t something she wanted to chance.

“You said we all have our needs, yes?”

“I did” Louise agreed. “But that is for marriage. Not some farm worker you simply stumble across on a back road.”

Bethany laughed. “Roll up your window dear, the rain is getting heavier. And listen carefully. My parents know about my little hobby. As long as I keep it out here, in a boondocks where not even rumor will reach Creekside they accept that I am an adult, and will do what I will do. Not even Mr. Worton is aware of my... Shall we call them personal tastes?”

“But if you should become a mother” Louise cried out. “The disaster that would be. For you and your pup.”

Bethany jerked, straightened out the car then pulled over. Only when they were parked on the side of the road did she begin laughing, with Louise watching in disbelief. “Hon” Bethany gasped finally. “You and I, we seriously need a girl to girl chat.”

“But I was well instructed” Louise countered.

“Oh I am certain of that, in a very proper Christian style of instruction. But were you told..” And she went into graphic detail of the things a young woman could, and would do for pleasure that would in no way lead to an unwanted pregnancy. Plus the fact that only the very very rare mule was fertile to begin with, and Karl was not one of those rare mules. All the while Louise showed shock, embarrassment and not less than a few times very close interest. When she had finished her explanation Bethany returned to driving, turning her full attention to the task as it was now simply pouring rain. “We must hurry home, we both need sleep and you must return to your boarding house by seven thirty. In time to change for work. But we really must speak further.”

“Honestly” Louise agreed, trying hard to gather her emotions together. “I had not thought.”

“Father owns an illustrated copy of the Kama Sutra. Spend this weekend. I will show it to you.”

“The what?”

Bethany giggled softly, but didn’t answer. The storm was heavy now and getting much worse. Driving now required her full attention. ‘Oh my’ she thought as she searched out the black topped road with the roadsters headlights. ‘Louise is teaching me to be a proper secretary, and I will be teaching her to be a very improper lady. When out of sight of course.’

It was still raining heavily the next morning when Bethany let Louise off at her boarding house’s front door, and the rain did not let up for another two full days.

At Songmark an exhausted Nancy Rote looked to her small pile of mail. There was the near daily letter from Alpha, causing Nancy to cringe slightly. She had not written her wife in over a week. Then, she had been in the middle of the Nimitz Sea with her dorm proving that yes, when dumped on an uninhabited island with nothing but what was in their school uniforms they could survive. So had all first years, Alpha included. Yet somehow the shrew had found a way not only to write daily, but mail the envelopes. More and more often Nancy was confounded by the Cranium Island shrew and her strange ways. It seemed that she thrived upon the difficult. When faced by the impossible, she simply glowed in response. Though her inability to spot a criminal bordered upon the impossible. There was also a letter from her father, a thick one from Bethany and three from movie producers who probably wanted to make her ordeal into a movie. She had already recycled seven others, they making excellent fire starting material when in the middle of no-where. Like a sand bar with no vegetation. And there was a single letter from her fathers second wife, the mink who had been Nancy’s nurse while she recovered at home. Nurse, and more.

It was the letter from Bethany that interested her right now. With so few weeks left of schooling the idea of returning to Creekside was beginning to interest her. Her welcome would be a cool one, for other than her family and perhaps Bethany no others with dare admit she even existed. Such was the way of high society. And she did so much need to speak to her father, and her new step-mother. It would of course be delightful to meet her brand new half-brother. It seemed that Georgine had wasted not a moment providing her father with proof of her love. And it would be interesting to see if the mink still was interested in Nancy.

Leaving her mail behind for the nonce the squirrel brushed the worst of her travel dust off her school uniform, ran a brush over her exposed fur and made her way down to dinner. If this was what first years experienced, what did third years experience? She knew from seeing Lady Allworthy’s group return that it must be dangerous, for they had looked like mad lost creatures, and Madeleine X had returned near deaths door.

When she did read Bethany’s packet, a letter and the information she had gathered with Louise’s help it as with an empty pit for a stomach. Was it starting over? No, for Bethany’s information proved that secretaries had been vanishing without cause for over four years. Perhaps even five. So why hadn’t she noticed this? How had such a thing happened without being noticed. She had a weekend pass, best to spend it with Alpha and work this mess out. Sleuthing could wait a bit, at least sleuthing on Casino Island.

Meanwhile in Creekside, Louise had no idea what information Bethany was sending her old chum. Only that as she stumbled across things she gave photographic copies of them to her new friend, and that Bethany then decided what Nancy should know. Bethany had shown her how to use a darkroom and for Louise, though the chemical stench made her sneeze a lot, it was a wonderful hobby. She even began taking pictures of landscapers and ruins when the two of them were out.. Driving.

It had been a horror to hear the entire story of the squirrels fall that first weekend she had spent at Bethany’s home. Though in truth all Bethany would speak of was what was public knowledge, the realization that Bethany was holding back even more was shattering. And that illustrated book Bethany calmly removed from her fathers library to bring upstairs. All with her fathers silent assent. The things within it. Why, were some of those illustrations even possible Louise asked herself. She would certainly find out, when she was married. That she promised herself.

True, most of her time was spent teaching the raccoon what she herself had learned at Mrs. Portland’s Boston School of Secretarial Excellence. Yet it was impossible to fill two years of careful training into one, two or three weekends. Had it been only three weeks since her arrival in Creekside. No, four the half-breed realized. Yet in four short weeks she had settled into her new employment nearly seamlessly, and had a friend from the highest social class. At least the highest class available in Creekside. Bethany’s father would be considered a poor relative to many on Knob Hill after all.

And Bethany had burned Louise’s ears with tales of her adventures with the locally famous Nancy Rote. Burned even more with her tales of her own, personal adventures without Nancy around, sometimes with her acting as lookout. Why, the books Bethany loaned her, loaned but did not allow out of her fathers home. Why, some of the things.. She dreamed about them, and felt ashamed for doing so. Ashamed, and shocked when she found her tail locked sideways when waking from those dreams.

“Louise, would you please come to my office a moment” Mr. Davidson called from his desk, his voice breaking her from her thoughts.

“Immediately sir.” Ever the proper secretary Louise stood, gathering her mechanical pencil and tablet as she walked to her employers office. Mr. Davidson was a delightful employer. Why, if it hadn’t been for the effects of Rose’s loss he would have been a delight to work for.

“Please close the door” the canine asked as she entered. Following instructions Louise closed the door, then settled down in the chair she preferred when taking dictation. “No letter Miss Witherspoon” Mr. Davidson said softy. “I must speak to you of things.”

“Of course sir.” Setting her pad in her lap Louise waited.

“I am aware of your friendship with Miss. Cartwright. As you informed me you are training her as a secretary. I must ask you now your opinion of the young lady.”

“Sir? There are personal things she has spoken to me of I may not speak of sir.”

Davidson waved a paw as if in dismissal. “I care not about her personal life Louise. I want to know this. Is she trustworthy? There have been rumors since the Rote affair.”

“I can tell you sir that she takes her position seriously. Her father has informed her that unless she attended the University of his choice she must learn his business as he did. From the bottom up. Bethany has worked very hard sir to learn how to be a secretary, and listens carefully when I speak. She very much does not wish to spend four long years under the gentle tutelage of the Sisters of Erie.”

“Very good. Nor would I to be honest with you, and I am Catholic myself. Louise. Would she keep secrets. Where her fathers business and that of his friends are concerned?”

Louise thought carefully before answering that. “Sir, she has never spoken to me but in the vaguest terms what her fathers business is, and almost nothing about her own work. We have agreed not to speak of our employers, or our work. In truth sir, the Law and Manufacturing have little in common where we secretaries are involved. Still you ask if she will keep a secret. All I can tell you sir is that she holds several personal secrets of myself, and to my understanding has spoken to no one about them. Yet what one will do in the future, when circumstances are greatly different. Sir, this I can not say even of myself.”

“Well spoken Louise. Quite well spoken. Are you aware of these rumors I speak of?”

“I am aware sir of what happened to Miss Rote, only in regards to what was published in the Clarion. Bethany continually spoke of Miss Rotes assault, when I asked she brought forwards a book of clippings from that paper and others. Though I am quite certain that she is aware of more detail she had neither offered, nor I asked further details. As to rumors though. Sir, I have never been interested in rumors. They are not fact, and almost always are harmful to someone. As I prefer not to harm anyone, especially someone I have never met, I neither listen too nor repeat any such words.”

Davidson smiled. “Honest, to the point. Very good, for it is none of my business even though I was involved in the legal battle regarding Miss Rote. I was one of her lawyers, for there were certain... People, who desired to see her sent to a sanatarium. Or a Nunnery. Unrelated do-gooders who felt her life was over after what had occurred. You must understand Louise, that under the thin veneer of civilization hides a jackal that loves the smell of blood, and that the most wonderful members of society are often the most dangerous. As you are aware of her public story, I must ask that you return to your rooms and prepare for a visit to Governor Rotes home. You see, I have been invited to dinner tonight. Such dinners are always business and I do need my secretary with me. I fear that I had to be certain of your discretion in such matters. As you are aware of his daughters horror as you may be from the public record, there will be no need to hide certain things. Can you be ready within the hour? I will of course call and inform your landlady as to events as she needs to know them. Rose spent many weekends at the Governors home. Thus this is not abnormal behavior.”

“If I leave now sir. I will need my paper and pen?”

“Most assuredly. Possible two pads. I am impressed by your short-paw speed, and we will most likely spend our time speaking of important and unimportant things until very late, if not until morning. These are things dealing with Politics you see, and such brainstorming generally continues until we run out of bourbon, or cigars. I have already informed your landlady that you might be going with me, these events are quite common among lawyers. Though the new Mrs. Rote will be there, I have information that Mr. Cartwright and his daughter will attend as well. She will make an excellent companion for you and by being there keep certain old tongues from wagging too much. Though as we are both aware they will always wag. Now hurry off Louise, I will pick you up a your door in one hour. Prepare a small bag, for as it is Friday you must expect that we will most likely be spending the night. Perhaps two. You will of course share a room with Miss. Cartwright should this occur, for I will not stress your health by keeping you up all night writing notes.”

“Yes sir. Thank you sir.” Standing Louise returned to her desk, gathering her purse and, just in case four new pads and several mechanical pencils. As promised as she exited her boarding rooms front door a taxi was waiting with Mr. Davidson in the back. It would be a very interesting time she discovered after a wonderful dinner, and a night filled with business. One that taxed her paw and filled almost the third steno-pad she had brought. Nor was Nancy Rote ignored, for she learned at dinner that the squirrel would be returning home for a visit in less than a month.

Meanwhile, several miles away in a private home the bulldog Richard Patterson set his coffee cup aside, turning to face the rooms only other occupant. A pretty rabbit known as Karen Goldstein lay curled up on a throw rug next to the rooms small fire. Her cheap tin bowl lay a few feet away, empty now of the store bought dog food it had contained. Nor did the rabbit wear anything other than a thick leather collar, a collar who’s silver nameplate simply said Karen. She was sleeping he knew, for only when he did not need her did she have time for such, and in his business he found need for her more than not lately. “Karen” he snapped, breaking into her light sleep.

“Master” she asked even as she woke, throwing off the sweet fog of sleep even as she came up to all fours, for only in public was she allowed to stand on two feet like intelligent creatures did.

“You have been making friends with the new girl Louise correct?”

“Yes Master.”

“And you warned me this afternoon that she is dangerous. Very well. A full report please.”

“Yes Master. Louise has begun putting together the missing persons reports. Using newspapers and letters she has discovered that eleven girls are missing from Creekside who’s whereabouts cannot be ascertained.”

“But I have only taken five from Creekside. Six counting yourself. How then did she come up with eleven?”

“I do not know Master. Perhaps there are others such as yourself.

Patterson turned his eyes away from the broken woman before him. She could not lie to him, not now. Not even if her soul was on the line. He was her entire universe, her reason for existing. She had been very intelligent when he had hired her eleven years ago. Intelligence he knew could not be trained out. It could be broken out, but never trained out. In fact he had done everything to insure his pet remained intelligent. So if she thought that there may be more white slavers in Creekside, then there were more white slavers in Creekside. Six adult women simply did not vanish into thin air. Not without a destination. In his case, that destination was his basement for spaying and training. Like the vixen below, who had proven very resilient. Usually the operation broke them, but this Rose had grieved, then tried to kill him as soon as she healed. Several times now. Still, twenty-three years of breaking women had stood him in good steed. She was at the edge. If not this weekend, then next. It would simply depend upon how hard he pushed.

He shook his head, clearing it. The matter at paw was important, not the animal still in training. Louise Witherspoon was putting things together. Slowly yes, most likely because it had simply intrigued her at first. That was how Karen had originally stumbled upon his business. Stumbled upon, confronted him and ended up becoming an important part of that business. Women with that kind of intelligence were rare, Karen, Nancy and now Louise.

Nancy Rote had proven too dangerous to simply vanish, to reappear at his bordello in Silverton or as an apparent employee. Too well known, too popular. That was why he had contracted with the two blackfurs. No one knew it but him, and he’d stumbled across the information quite by accident but they had not been husband and wife, but brother and sister. That information, and the fact that Nancy had put one of their own into jail had gotten them to accept that dangerous contract. Nancy was supposed to have been pig food a week after her capture. It had been in their contract. At least the Sheriff had shut their mouths by killing them before they could say anything dangerous. But it had broken Nancy Rote, she was no longer slowly turning her attention upon his enterprises, no longer a danger to him and his business. She had run away, so far away as to be ignorable. Now there was this Louise Witherspoon.

“Would you like a pen-mate” he asked Karen abruptly.

“Pen-Mate Master?”

“Someone to share your work, your duties here at my home. Someone to sleep in your pen with you at night. To keep you warm in the winter. Someone as smart as yourself.”

“Louise? Oh yes Master. She is young I know. I will train her in all things. I will.”

“Very well.” Turning to his phone he called a certain number. It was late, but this person had never complained about such calls. “Doctor Bronson please. Yes, I am aware of the time. Please tell him it is Richard Patterson.” He waited while the good doctor was brought to the phone. “Ah, good evening Herr Doctor. My apologies for the lateness of my call. Karen it seem’s is having difficulty with her moon and I was wondering if you could give her a sedative. You will? Thank you sir. I will have Alfred waiting at the door for you. Until your arrival.“

He hung up the phone. Karen had been spayed many years ago by the good doctor, she had been his first and he’d jumped at the chance to preform that operation. A cleansing of the bloodlines Bronson had once said. Thus there was no possibility of her having a moon. It was simply a code between the two. When the owl arrived less than half an hour later he was shown directly to Patterson’s den. He, and the mouse who had been his nurse since the bulldog could remember.

“And your problem my good friend” Doctor Bronson asked as he accepted coffee from the butler. His nurse had gone directly to Karen though, a fact that the rabbit often enjoyed.

“A young secretary. One who has unexpectedly become dangerous to our little projects. And most likely the projects of that other slaver you work for.”

“Other? I... How long have you known about her my friend.”

“Long enough, and I have no interest in meeting or otherwise contacting your other employer. It is enough to warn you both that this Miss Witherspoon has begun putting things together. Not as quickly as Nancy Rote would have. No, this is more a hobby with her I think. One she is not very good at. Still she has to vanish before she is able to speak with Miss Rote, and in such a way that no one will think to search for her. Yet she is too intelligent to simply kill. I want her for Karen. Have you any ideas?”

Sipping his drink the owl thought. “How old, and what condition?”

“Twenty two on the nineteenth of August, and she appears quite healthy.”

“Then a heart attack. It is known to happen to one so young. Rare, and there will have to be an autopsy. Still manageable. And for this you will give me?”

“The vixen Rose. She is near ready anyway, and I’ve business in the Capital next month. It will be easy enough to pick up a replacement for her there. Given choices in payment, one vixen is easier that the amount you normally ask.”

“Helga will like having a playtoy of her own again. Perhaps this time she will be more careful with it, she broke the last one being too rough in her play. They are expensive after all, so very well. I will supply you with a drug that will make it appear that the young lady has suffered a heart attack and died. But you must have her in my paws within three hours, else she will waken before I am able to get her on the operating table and it will be for nothing. I would have to put her down quickly to protect us all. Helga, my bag please.”

“You will warn the other?”

“Of course, and perhaps one day you will meet her, or not. In either case she will owe you, and as you, she remembers those who aid her. Ah, thank you Helga.” He rummaged in his black bag several minutes, then came up with two tiny bottles. “A binary drug, so either one in her lunch, two hours later the other. You will have ten minutes before she dies. Four hours later the drug ceases to function. Will this be a problem?”

“No” the bulldog answered. “Karen and Louise eat lunch together now. It will be a simple matter to have her do this.”

“Helga, do not do that” Doctor Bronson snapped at a whimper from the rabbit. “She is not yours to play as you please, or do I have to punish you again?”

“I am sorry Doctor” the mouse answered. “I get so the carried away.”

“Hrumph. We have his word that you will have the vixen when she is ready. But break her as you did the doe and I will never obtain another toy for you as long as you live. Anger me that much, I promise you that you will not live that long. You will join them both at the meat factory.” He stood, reaching out to shake paws with the bulldog. “As always, a business doing pleasure with you. Helga, we are leaving.” After the good doctor had left Patterson went down to his training rooms. If all went as it should, he would have a payment to make next weekend after all.

“It was a very good lunch” Louise said to Karen as they returned to their employment three weeks later. Somehow she had become good friends with the rabbit. As to the exact reasons why Louise could only conjecture. Most likely she simply wanted to get away from her over bearing employer during lunch. Certainly if she had been in the rabbits place Louise knew that lunch would be heaven considering the strict worth ethic that bulldog demanded. And the conversations had been so delightful. Why, Karen had pointed out a very good hairdresser just last Monday and today had offered to accompany her to the local Museum. Although her informal investigation to those missing secretaries had put her on her guard, Karen seemed more than willing to share what little she knew. Yes, between Bethany and Karen Louise believed that she had found real friends.

As she settled into work again Louise opened a drawer of her desk, looking again at the envelope that would cost her her job. Most likely her reputation, and her career. It was a duplicate of one she had mailed to Bethany at lunch. Louise shuddered, knowing her future was decimated. She had worked so hard to become a qualified secretary, attending one of the best schools with the little money her parents had left her. Yet with Karen’s careful search of the companies archives (something Louise was not yet authorized to be even near) and the financial statements that the rabbit had found there the truth was impossible to ignore. Her employer, the man she had been so delighted to work for was a white slaver. It was impossible to miss, for each time a local secretary had vanished in the last five years she had somehow been involved with the canine. Either directly employed, or having interviewed to replace a missing girl. Once even a client. A few weeks later a rather large amount of money had been deposited into the company accounts, all earmarked for Mr. Davidson. Settlements they were listed, yet each one had been exactly five thousand dollars. To go to the police, yes she should do that. But first. As much as she disliked the idea she knew that Mr. Patterson should be informed first. He worked with criminal law while Mr. Jenkins dealt only with Government law. Yes, this afternoon. Mr. Patterson always worked late, as did she. Mr. Davidson would think nothing of her staying over a half hour after he left as she had done so many times already. She would approach the bulldog this very afternoon.

“And how are you this afternoon” Karen asked hours later when she arrived, several letters and packages in her arms. She was bright and cheery as always, but Louise was certain that she could see something dark hidden behind those eyes. A loss of some kind that the rabbit hadn’t yet spoken of. “My turn to deliver the mail this week” the rabbit continued. She started putting things on Louise’s desk, then dropped several envelopes.

“I have them” Louise announced as she bent down to gather the errant things into paw. As she did Karens right paw drifted over the glass of water on Louise’s desk, something sparkling dropping from a hidden vial to dissolve within the waiting drink.

“I apologize, ah. Those are for Mr. Jenkins. He always gets the thicker envelopes.” Karen giggled, lowering her voice. “I like to think they are pay-offs from government officials, but he is too proper to ever be involved in anything illegal or immoral.”

“Karen” Louise answered softly. “May I speak with Mr. Patterson. About a half hour after work?”

“I can ask him” the rabbit looked to Mr. Davidson’s currently closed door, closed because he was with a client then lowered her voice. “What is it about?”

Louise followed suite, lowing her voice as well. “I believe that I have proof now that Mr. Davidson is a criminal, but I don’t want to go to the police first. I really need someone who knows the law to look at what I have, and tell me I’m just a crazy young girl who see’s shadows in the sunlight. Mr. Davidson is just too nice to do what I think he’s been doing.”

“If your wrong it’s your job” Karen warned. “Your reputation. Why no one in Creekside would hire a secretary who claimed her boss was a criminal and was wrong. Especially if she was right. Think about it Louise. You’ve just started your life. If your wrong, why no self respecting business man will even let you in the doorway.”

“I know.” Louise glanced at the closed door, lowering her eyes. “I wish I were wrong, but the information you have given me, and the letters of answer from Miss Rote. I do believe that I am right. If I am then I am avoiding the fate so many others before me have shared. If I am wrong, well then there are many places that need hard working paws. Perhaps factory work or picking cotton. Whatever it may be I will survive. My uncle taught me that I must do what is right, even should it cost me greatly. For a liar has no life but shadows before them.”

“Still.” Karen looked away from the half-breed fur before her. “It is your choice, but please do not bring my name into this. I have no one but myself and if you taint me, I am lost.”

“I understand.” Louise watched her friend leave, heading for Mr. Jenkins offices. This afternoon then. Nancy Rote was two weeks late returning from her schooling. A problem with her friend who was coming with her, that was all Louise knew. She so looked forward to meeting the squirrel, who’s letters had always been informative and sharp. Nancy Rote was obviously a very intelligent young lady, though a few years younger than Louise herself. Turning her attention back to her work she tacked the mail, then began sorting it. Those things for Mr. Davidson’s eyes only, those she must open, those that she should be present when opened. It was over half an hour later that she drank from her glass, less than fifteen minutes later her apparently lifeless body lay on the floor of her office.

Bethany Cartwright drove up to the building her friend Louise worked at, parking her loaned roadster outside before stepping into the building to find her friend. Louise had promised to show her very important papers today, and she was to meet her just before closing. As she walked for the stairs the guard stopped her. “Miss Cartwright?”

“Yes? Is there a problem?”

“Yes Miss Cartwright. You ‘ave come to visit your friend Miss Witherspoon yes?”

“I have” Bethany agreed. “I have important news for her. Is she in trouble?” Trouble was something that Bethany was used too, having encountered such nearly weekly in her adventures with Nancy Rote. Certainly she thought, Louise couldn’t be in that great of trouble. Could she?

“I’m sorry Miss Cartwright. But Miss Witherspoon. She died a few hours ago.”

“Da... Died? How? Was she assaulted?” The news hit Bethany as hard as what had happened to Nancy. Louise was so full of life, how could such a thing happen?

“No Miss Cartwright. She just died at ‘er desk. They took tha body to General already. Doc. Bronson has her case I’m told.”

“Then I must go. Thank you.” Stricken Bethany turned and ran. Louise dead? Impossible. It was simply impossible. To have such good news met by such evil tidings. It was just impossible. By the time she reached Creekside General the young raccoon had dried her tears, but caused more than one crash as other drivers swerved to avoid her. There she learned the truth, that Louise had died of an apparent heart attack. She was already dead by the time that General’s ambulance had arrived at her office building. Stricken, for she had become close chums with the older secretary, Bethany did the only thing she could think of. She called her father.

Somewhat later that afternoon Mr. Cartwright sat with his still shaken daughter in the good doctors office. They had been forced to wait while the autopsy was completed, the idea of Louise’s body laying open on a cold enameled steel table making the young Raccoon ill to her stomach. “You are certain it was natural causes” the businessman asked. He had met Louise several times, had noticed the healthy womans good influence of his precocious child. Had been impressed by her seriousness and diligence to duty at the all night meeting with Governor Rote. That one so young had died of a heart attack. It was impossible. It had to be impossible.

“I preformed the autopsy myself sir” Doctor Bronson answered. “Her heart simply stopped. The reasons I cannot say until my laboratory tests are returned. At the moment I have listed it as possibly an acute angina attack. Yet her heart looked normal, healthy. It was of good size and weight for her age and body size. Her liver was healthy and none of the arteries I opened showed any evidence of clogging. I simply do not know right now. Still, had she been in this office the moment of her attack I could have done nothing for her. It was, I fear painful. Very painful. Yet for all that it was very quick. A minute, no more. Mr. Davidson reported that by the time he was able to get to her she was already white, that she did not respond even to strong slaps on her cheeks. Sir, I understand your problem. Young adults simply do not die from heart attacks. Yet the truth is that three point nine percent of all women, white furs that is, suffer from some form of angina. Most can be sent home, regulated to light work, ordered to avoid strenuous exercise, pregnancy and such. Yet some women show no evidence of such a disease. As you know I just finished looking at her records, Miss Cartwright may remember that Miss Witherspoon was required to have a full physical examination before her employment would be complete. Doctor Youngblood was quite extensive in his examination. He is both a very respected Doctor and my senior. I very much respect his work. I have spoken with him about this. There is nothing in it to indicate such a problem. Still, as we both accept these things sometimes just happen. Most often without any obvious reasons.”

“I see” Mr. Cartwright admitted, not quite understanding everything, but accepting that what had happened was not unknown. “May I ask what disposition has been made for her body?”

The Owl picked up some papers, shuffling through them a moment. “A paupers grave of course. Her employers insurance did not come fully effective until one year. They have agreed to pay for a paupers grave but no more.”

“Father” Bethany begged softly.

“She was my daughters friend, so I think that I can cover the cost of a good headstone. What the insurance will not cover, I will.”

“That is very good new sir, but you must deal with the funeral home about such things. Not I. Her body was delivered at Harsons Rest Home but a little while after I finished the autopsy. I am certain that, as she is marked for a paupers grave they will spend very little time preparing the body. At best, by sunset she will be buried.”

“Then we best make our way to Harsons.” He rose, extending his paw to the owl. “You have been more than kind explaining to us the matter of my daughters friends death. Thank you.”

“Not at all sir” the owl countered, accepting the raccoon’s paw. “It did bother me that no one came, she looked to be such a beautiful young lady. For a half-breed.”

“That she was sir. That she was.” The two left Doctor Bronson’s office, unaware of a phone call he made to the funeral home moments later.

“Father. Louise was more than a half-breed. She was my friend.”

“I understand” her father agreed as they drove. “Still she was not one thing or another, and many see that as unacceptable. One should marry within ones species, or at least not have children. There was nothing wrong with Louise, she was a full whitefur after all. I liked her, I liked the effect she was having upon you. To be honest, I was thinking of offering her employment in the main office. Now she is gone and the best you can do is remember the good times that you two shared.”

“I am doing poorly with friends, arn’t I father” Bethany asked after a few minutes thought.

“Poorly? How. Miss Rote was a wonderful influence on you. She took you on many adventures and always brought you home unharmed even when she herself was injured. She cared for you, she cared for everyone. That your fair weather friends turned away from you when you refused to ignore dear Nancy, that it their failing not yours. Louise also spent a good amount of her short time with you, and your secretarial skills are much the better for it. So much better that from Worton’s last report I have decided to advance you to the marketing department. As a bottom rung secretary of course.”

“But Nancy, and now Louise...” Bethany looked out the window on her side of the automobile. “It just isn’t fair.”

“Life isn’t fair my dear. It never has been, it never will be. Now we have arrived. Please try to show Louise the respect she is due and hold any tears for when you are home.”

Louise had already been laid out in a cheap pine box. Her clothing Bethany noted was askew, the result of someone trying to cloth a dead body. With the directors permission she adjusted Louise’s clothing, her fingers running across that well known face, recoiling from the coldness now within its flesh. Finally she stepped back. “When will she be buried?”

“As soon as her pastor can arrive” that black clothed fox answered. “He is already on his way. If you will please wait in the lobby, we will close her into her final rest. Then you may follow us to the paupers field. I believe that her grave is already being made ready.”

“You are very quick for a funeral home” Bethany’s father noted.

“She is a pauper sir. As such we are paid very little for this passing. Although I do all I may to respect the body, why in this case had you not arrived there would have been no one other than her Pastor and myself to even give last goodbyes. It is simply a matter of as quickly as possible, as paupers are not embalmed. Well sir, young Lady. As you know without such embalming the body quickly returns to what it was made from. By tonight she will begin to corrupt sir. It is better that she be in her resting place as quickly as possible. While her mortal beauty is still evident and she may be remembered for what and who she was. Not what nature is returning her too.”

“I see. Bethany?” Following the Director he led his daughter away, and minutes later tried not to hear those nails being driven into wood one last time even through three closed doors. Or was that his imagination he wondered. Beside him his daughter wept softly, near silently. Louise had become an important part of her life these few months that the two had known each other. To lose yet another friend, and this one to death was hard on the girl. Yet in her purse was a letter. A letter she had been so excited about. Nancy was coming home next week with her friend Alpha in tow and she wanted to speak with Louise before the secretary did anything rash.

“Exactly as promised” the bulldog lawyer known as Mr. Patterson said as he pulled out a new Cuban cigar. “Everyone thought her dead, even old Harson himself. Took a bit of paper to have that crate switched, then delivered to the drop.”

“Does it really matter” the owl asked. “She would have woken under six feet of wet earth, an impossibility for one so delicate to escape from. Either way, you would have been rid of her danger.”

“Agreed. Agreed.” The owl puffed his cigar, looking up to the ceiling of his home office. “Still. I would have been out a replacement for the vixen you are taking with you. It takes time to train them right, and departing Creekside for the next two months would be a fools choice, were it not for my previously scheduled trip to the Capital. Bringing two back would be difficult, very difficult. Too many eyes. As it is, once the planted evidence is found I will be withdrawing from that firm. Karen tells me that a rather deadly little packet sits in Louise’s desk, and when found will cost a certain enemy of mine his neck. Still a tainted reputation you see. Bad for my own professional reputation after all. I understand that you and your nurse are leaving for the old country at the end of this month. Perhaps a wise thing to do, what with an extra trunk to carry.”

His butler arrived then, whispering into his ear. “Very good. You know where to put it.” Patterson flicked his cigar, its ashes falling into the hair of a naked rabbit kneeling beside him. Karen made no move as a hot ember touched her skin, burning slightly. For she was well trained. Very well trained.

“Our package has arrived. Shall we retire to the playroom and discover our new playmates vocabulary?”

“Certainly, come Helga.”

“Karen.”

Creaking boards warned Louise that she was being released from her prison. As soon as enough light was available to show her that prison she immediately fainted. For even a paupers coffin was easy to discern, and that she had been sealed within one could only mean one thing.

“Unconscious only” the owl reported after inspecting the now naked body before them. Her clothing had gone into the buried coffin of course, she would not need such any more. Certainly it was much too modest for her new profession. “Breathing well. Her bandage is still secure and there is no leakage. A minute, no more. Helga, aid in her transfer if you will. Ware her wound, if she rips those stitches I will be near impossible to save her heavy scaring, even death should infection set in.”

With three strong pairs of arms working at the task Louise’s body was soon in its new cage, a strong steel collar carefully locked about her neck. That collar itself was attached to the wall by an even stronger chain. A moan came from the girl, one of pain, not fear. When she opened her eyes again it was to a smiling Karen’s face. “Master says you belong to me” the rabbit informed her once friend. “I promise. I will train you very well.”

“Karen? What is...”

The slap echoed off the ancient basements stone walls. “Mistress. I am your MISTRESS” Karen snapped. “I belong to the Master, you belong to me. You are lowest animal of the low. Below even me. You ask no questions. Understand me my toy?”

“Yes” Louise gasped, tasting blood. “Mistress.” She hated the feel of pain, and was certain from the blood that at least one fang had cut her inner lip. At the moment though she had no idea where she was, why Karen was acting this way or who... “Mister Patterson” she gasped as she realized who the bulldog was. This garnered her two more slaps. Both twice as hard was the first.

“No talking unless I, or the Master ask you a direct question half-breed. Understand?” Karen growled.

Frightened, and now not quite certain of her senses Louise decided that submission was better than getting her face beaten again. At least for the moment. And her lower stomach ached badly. “Yes Mistress” she gasped, spitting blood. Certainly there was a fang loose. Certainly.

“Well, that was faster than the vixen” Patterson commented. “You may play with your toy until Sunday morning slave. Be careful of her stitches though. A tear now will mean her loss, or in the least a very bad scar. After I return from Sunday Services I will need your undisturbed attention. I think that you can miss services this Sunday without words being spoken behind your back.”

Karen turned her back on Louise, dropping to her knees as she lowered her head. “Yes Master. Thank you for my new pet Master.”

As Louise watched through battered senses a red furred vixen was lifted from another cage. She offered her captors no resistance, and from the metallic sounds she made apparently was wearing more than one chain. It was only after she was long gone that Louise would be informed of her identity. But that information would come later. Much later, as a certain rabbit had a great deal of anger to get out of her system, and was well trained on how to do it without causing lasting physical harm. Mental harm? Now that was another subject.

Not quite a week later a worried Bethany waited at the fence of Creeksides small airport. Not too far from her were the Rotes, here to greet their daughter and her newest friend, then take them both home. Bethany was here for the same reason, and to give Nancy a rather large package of materials. She had not opened the last packet that had arrived from her friend Louise, knowing that there would be a letter in it, and not yet able to stand reading it. As she watched a twin engine passenger plane arrived, taxied up to the waiting mobile stairs and shut off its engines. She continued to watch in silence as several furs exited the craft, then there was Nancy. In her Songmark uniform and looking healthier than she ever had. A smaller shrew was behind her, carrying a small bag. In the same uniform she had to be the mysterious Alpha that Nancy had spoken of. Nancy though actually bounced down the stairs, running up to her family. Only after the five were walking away from the gate did Bethany approach her friend.

“Nancy, welcome home” the raccoon said to her friend.

“BETHANY” Nancy cried, throwing her arms about her friend. “We have so much to talk about. Your coming home with us yes? This is Alpha. Oh Bethany I have so much to tell you.”

“Uh, not today” Bethany answered. “I’ve been promoted. Yesterday. I have to get things together at work. Your father has your car, I’ve borrowed a company car. But maybe tomorrow evening. Call me at home tomorrow evening okay? This is what Louise found.” Then she shoved the package into her friends paws and hurried off, fighting the tears in her eyes.