Detective Hollywood Ford in: The Great Seed Heist

Rockin' the Roost

Hali pushed open the door to The Anatidae rehearsal space, the smoky air heavy with the thrum of guitar riffs and a drum beat that pounded through the floorboards. Deacon Blues, shades perched atop her head, was in her element, crooning her saxophone, a long, mournful wail that could pull tears from a stone.

"Dee, baby," Hali purred, strutting towards the makeshift stage. "You gotta help a girl out."

Deacon cut the music mid-note, the silence ringing in the sudden quiet. He eyed her, that signature half-grin playing on her lips. "Hali, darlin', you always mean some kind of trouble. What trouble you got cookin' this time?"

She laid her hands on her arm, flashing her most winning smile, "Remember that slimy seabird, Mayor Gulliani? The one pockets more dough than a bakery? He's throwing one of those fancy fundraisers of his, and here's the thing..."

"Let me guess," Deacon chuckled, "You wanna storm the place, raise some righteous hell?"

"Close," she winked. "We want in. Big time."

She tilted her head, intrigued. "In? Hali, honey, those parties ain't the place for folks like us. They'll spot us as fakes faster than you can say 'champagne wishes, caviar dreams'."

Hali leaned in closer. "That's why I need you, sugar. You're gonna put on a show. A show that gets us right through those pearly gates."

Deacon's eyebrows shot up. "You want my band to play for that crook?"

"Consider it... infiltrating the enemy camp," Hali smirked, "Just one gig, Deacon. You know I'd never ask if it wasn't important."

She tapped her fingers against the saxophone, thoughtful. "Important, huh? Alright, spill it. What kinda dirt you plannin' to dig up?"

Hali lowered her voice, filling it with a mix of determination and a hint of desperation. She knew her well enough not to underestimate her either. After a moment, a spark lit in her eyes.

"Alright, Hali-fire," she drawled. "I'll get the band on board. But you owe me, and you know it. And," she added, tapping a finger against her nose, "my boys and I gotta be on that guest list."

Back in the cluttered nest of their makeshift headquarters, Pippin twirled nervously in a pair of too-tight trousers pilfered from a thrift store. "This feels like an episode of some bad spy show," he mumbled, adjusting the oversized sunglasses Hali had thrust upon him.

Hali, in contrast, looked surprisingly at home in a borrowed blazer and faux-designer scarf. "Relax, Pippin," she smirked, tossing him a microphone headset. "You're a backup singer, I'm Dee's manager, not secret agents. Now, remember the plan..."

"Yeah, yeah," Pippin fidgeted, attempting a falsetto for good measure. "Deacon creates the distraction, we slip in during the chaos, I find the security system and try to hack in, you..."

"Schmooze and snoop," Hali finished, "Keep an eye out for anything fishy – documents, ledgers, weird plants..."

Pippin gave a hesitant nod. "Plants? What do plants have to do with the mayor?"

Hali shrugged, tapping a finger against her lips. "Just a hunch. Overheard some whispery conversations at the bar...something about distribution and 'seeds taking root'. Sounds suspicious to me."

A flicker of excitement sparked in Pippin's eyes. "This is way bigger than just some shady tax deal, isn't it? Think we might have stumbled onto something really weird?"

"We're about to find out," Hali declared, flashing a grin that was equal parts daring and just a little bit dangerous. "Besides," she patted Pippin's shoulder, "a little weird never hurt anyone, right?"