Twitchy

Chapter 6

Fareeha was close with Zen. They'd known each other back at uni, before he dropped out to pursue crimes. Various crimes. They studied the same major, broadcast journalism, but he'd decided to strike out on his own. He kept in touch, but never had the same return address on his envelopes. Fareeha knew him well enough by now that if she needed anything, she could just call. Of course she didn't need people cleaned up often, but when she did he was more than happy to oblige. When a knock came at her door close to midnight, she was wary. Zen always knocked a certain way, two fast then two slow. This was someone else.

--
    Fox approached the building, a small two-story house with a flickering porch light. A cigarette was still smoking in the ashtray; it had just been put out. He gave three quick raps to the door then stepped back, trying to appear casual. He was closer than he'd ever been to finding Mr. Yeeeta and he wasn't about to lose his lead now. The door creaked open and a woman he recognized stepped out.
    "Fareeha. Long time no see," Fox started, tipping his hat. "You got time?"
    "I've always got time, just not for you. We haven't talked since your last stint and I had hoped to keep it that way. You're not getting anything out of me, so you best be leaving." She glared and closed the door, the quiet click of a lock punctuating her words.
    "Please Fareeha, it's about Cinder. She's dead."
    Silence. Then a shuffle as the door was opened again. "Come in."
--
    "I'm telling you, Doc didn't do it. His gun was loaded and the bullet in Cinder didn't match. He may have been responsible for Dav but Cinder… that was someone else."
    They were sitting in her living room, a small space with two armchairs and a hand-me-down circular end table. A large cow skin rug took up the rest of the space, and paintings hung on the walls. It was… oddly decorated, to say the least.
    Fareeha looked nervous. "Why come to me with this?"
    Fox narrowed his eyes, doubling down. "Because you know exactly who I'm talking about. Where is Zen? Who's his next victim?"
    Fareeha stood up suddenly. "That's none of your concern! You can't just show up to my house expecting information about him!"
    Fox smiled and looked up at her from below his hat, a glint in his eye. "Then why is Zen himself giving out your contact?" he pulled the card out of his coat pocket with a flourish and held it out to her between two fingers.
    She took it, looking more confused than alarmed. "Where did you get this?"
    "A drunk at a bar, said Zen gave it to him one of the times he paid off his tab."
    She grimaced. "Tango. That bastard's had it out for me since the day I broke his victory streak. From then on he's lived by the motto 'can't end on a loss' and has been at that bar all day everyday for months now. I gave him that card back when we were still friends, not Zen."
    "But you do know him, you just admitted it."
    "I knew him. He hasn't sent word in over a year. I honestly thought the police had finally caught up with him. I guess not. I'm sorry about your loss, but I can't help you."
    Fox sighed and stood up, once again lost without any leads. He paced around the room, looking at the paintings on the walls. He noticed one that seemed… off. It was of a street he recognized, shadows covering most of the details. One detail, however, stuck out to him.
    "Hey, Fareeha? Where did you get this piece?"
    "A local artist, Gaoli. That one's pretty new, I got it last week."
    "I see… this Gaoli, do you happen to have a contact I could use?"
    "I never took you for an artsy type… But sure, I get most of my pieces at the art gallery on Benacomb street."
    "Great, I appreciate the help." He tipped his hat to her again and just like that he was off with another lead.