Business of Broken Ethics Chapter 2

“Kid, lift your head up. I know that tranquilizer should have worn off awhile ago.”

Starker raised his head, as well as his hackles. Sure the tranquilizer wore off, but his head was absolutely throbbing. Like someone had just tossed him into his cell while he was still unconscious, he felt as if he had cracked his skull on solid stone.

And after several vague, fuzzy hours of pacing around, barking, and alternating gnawing and kicking the cell bars, they had cuffed him again and took him to some isolated room. He was now seated at a plain gray table with a remarkably shiny surface, across from that horse deputy guy who had first confronted him.

Nighthoof, whatever his name was, was leaning back slightly in his chair, drumming his fingers on the table’s edge. His silver eyes stared down at Starker with a guarded, stern look, “Alright, need I remind you why you’re here? Like I said before your idiotic attempt to run off like that…” Nighthoof still had that punctual and almost condescending way of speaking that still rubbed the dog teen the wrong way, “you’ve been identified as a suspect in the murder of supposed victim Orthorne Vincent.”

The mere mention of having that murder brought up sent tremors of uneasiness up Starker’s spine, and he knew he could have very well gotten away with it if he had conducted it a little…cleaner, despite that being something rather out of his element. The night in question, he had been so wrapped up in utter fury and rage that he had not the time or caring to cover his tracks. He had even let himself grow relaxed as the event was unspoken of for several months. He wrecked that bastard’s body well enough to leave the incident an enigma for quite a while.

And honestly, the fact that these cops managed to figure out the victim, the murderer, and even managed to catch him with so much ease…it confounded and pissed him off. Now even then he was getting talked down to by this idiot cop who probably thought he was so clever in figuring out the whole…

“Ahem.”

Starker snapped his gaze up.

“If you’re done mumbling to yourself, this ‘idiot cop’ has some things to ask you.” He shuffled some papers that he unnoticeably had tucked under his other hand and withdrew a pen from his coat pocket, “Do you have a name, kid?”

“Nope.” Starker sassed, but a sharp look from the deputy made him roll his eyes and mutter, “Starker Harynn.”

“Now at the scene of the murder, we found at first, only one piece of identifiable evidence. Your carving in the dirt near the…carnage scene.”

Starker flashed a smirk, taking a small amount of glee from Nighthoof’s irritancy with him, “…clearly showing us we were dealing with one of us, and not a feral animal. Then we found traces of blue fur in the carvings and caught in the bark of the trees.”

Starker watched him motionlessly. He was slightly unsettled at the fact that they had managed to actually salvage pieces of his fur from the scene. He didn’t even recall brushing up against any trees to lose them. But who knows? He was so fuzzy with rage that night he probably wasn’t paying attention.

“Now the color wasn’t quite a match, as it was a darker blue, but the scent was unmistakable. At first we were only going to detain you for interrogation, since the fur being there and the murder scene could have been two separate events…” Nighthoof cleared his throat, “But clearly your attempt at escape proves you aren’t as innocent as you appear.”

“Innocent? Moi?” Starker said cheekily, and he could swear he saw a vein pop on the stallion’s head. He looked like he was desperately trying to restrain himself,

“Kid. Don’t you understand what this means for you? You’ve basically proven yourself to be a guilty suspect, you’re not even trying to cover yourself, you act like you’re even proud of yourself…!”

Starker snarled, the lilt in his voice turning prominent, “Ah ne’er said Ah was proud ay myself, officer…”

Nighthoof huffed, “Then what? You’re sitting here needling me for what reason? Do you want a longer sentence?”

Starker barred his teeth, “What’d ye do wi’ my deer?” he demanded, tensing his paws from where they were shackled behind his back, “Tell me that.”

Nighthoof scowled, “I don’t have to reveal that kind of information to you, punk. What is she to you, anyway? Is she your kid or something, or a step-sister? How old are you both?”

Starker refrained from replying sarcastically, “Fifteen and seven. We’re not related.” He breathed heavily out of his mouth, trying to calm down for the sake of bringing up Esther, “She’s my charge.”

Nighthoof scoffed, “Your charge? Says who?”

Starker leaned forward again, peeved by the horse’s sneery tone, “Says me, longface.”

The deputy barely blinked at Starker’s unoriginal insult, “You’ve no legal ownership to her, then. Right now she’s being put somewhere safe from you and probably with better conditions than that old cabin you two have been holing up in for who-knows-how-long.”

Starker barked at him, “She doesn’t need protectin’ from me!” he practically roared.

“Quiet!” Nighthoof brayed, “That is not the issue here. Do you formally confess to the brutal murder of Orthorne Vincent or not?”

“Ye! Fine! Ah did it okay?” Starker threw himself back in his chair, leering daggers at the horse across from him, “Ah did it. Ah had my reasons tae! Ah wouldnae let that bastard git away wi’ gettin’ his hands all o’er the fawn’s body!!” He blinked, breathing harshly through his mouth, “Ah wasnae gonna let her live knowin’ he was still out there…alive…okay…?” He lowered his head, “That’s it…can Ah go now?”

Nighthoof shook his head, by now his black mane appeared rather frazzled from the ordeal, “Can you go? Are you…” he bit off the insult wisely, “…Are you telling me that little girl you were with was sexually assaulted by Orthorne Vincent? And that’s your incentive for killing him…” The last statement came out more neutral than questioning. Nighthoof sighed loudly and pinched the bridge of his nose, “You…thought you were making her safe…you…” hearing his voice become soft, the deputy shook his head and cut off his lamenting with another answer, “No, you can’t leave. You have to go through a formal trial to decide your fate. Since you confessed, you aren’t gonna get out for free no matter what, but it might shave some years off your sentence.”

Starker sat back, and suddenly the air around him lost all of its hostility, “…Y-years…?”

Nighthoof sighed loudly, letting himself calm down. He smoothed out a portion of his mane, still keeping Starker in eye contact, “A murder is a murder kid…er, Starker. They can’t just let you off for free for that, even if you have justifiable reasons that aren’t proven to be fact just yet…at the least, you could get three years…” he saw the canine flinch slightly, “…if the judge and jury are merciful, that is…”

“You could ask her…” Starker muttered at the floor, “Esther ain’t a liar…she…”

Nighthoof studied him, he seemed to have shrunken in demeanor now, “I get it, we’ll look into it, okay? But punishment is punishment, kid. That’s the law. You’re getting booked no matter what.”

Starker was silent. Good, he was getting it. The deputy was a bit disturbed and worried about the teen’s initial lack of remorse for his crime, thinking they might be dealing with some kind of sociopath.

A knock sounded on the metal door behind Starker, “Come in,” Nighthoof replied, and the female cop from before poked her head in. She shot a venomous glare at Starker,

“Sir, the little one has been taken care of. Is your interrogation with the mutt still in progress?”

Starker barred his teeth and growled at the word ‘mutt’, and Nighthoof waved his hand at her, “Yes yes, I’ve gotten what I needed out of him, Rosemary. I’m about to return him to his cell.” The leopard briskly dipped her head and left.

“Bitch.” Starker hissed out. Nighthoof stood up, grabbing Starker by the arm as he came to his side,

“A-hem. You’ll maintain a respectable tongue in your mouth if you’re going to hope for a shorter sentence.” The horse muttered, standing Starker up on his feet, “The jury won’t take kindly to a punk-ass kid who acts like a murder was nothing to him. They’ll think you’re some kinda psychopath and vouch for your imprisonment, forget incentives and the like.”

Starker glowered at him.

Nighthoof sighed, “I’m saying kid, if you don’t want them to pile on the decades to your sentence, you could at least turn on the waterworks or something. Appeal to their better nature. Act like a good boy.”

Starker spat on the ground a few inches from Nighthoof’s foot, “Better nature, whatever…” he snarled. Nighthoof ignored the hostility in his voice and opened the door for him.

Starker shook his head and shoved out the door, followed hastily by the deputy who had thought he was about to break out running again, “Whatever you say. But Ah can’t forgive what ye persons all call a rapist…”

--------

Esther hated this place.

She had been assured by a kind, plump hen that where she was going was a very nice place. She remembered the conversation with the woman, feeling somewhat patronized now.

“Where am I going?” The deer murmured, having held the question in for a long time.

“To a nice family, hon, that’ll take care of you until we decide our next course of action..” She had a tone of silliness to her voice, as if trying to convey to Esther that everything was just peachy.

“Starker? Where’s he?”

The hen frowned. “Starker? The dog?”

Esther nodded her head energetically, hoping for the answer she wanted.

“Oh, honey, no. He’s probably in court right now. Chances are, if he really did what he did, then he’s going to be in jail for a really long time.” She shook her head, as if dusting away even the possible idea of Esther seeing Starker again.

And that brought tears to the fawn’s eyes. “But he’s my friend! He’s the one that takes care of me!” She bumped herself against the hen’s feathered side, desperate to have her full, undivided attention.

The woman frowned down at Esther once more, shaking her head. “No. Sweetheart, you’ll be seeing him again soon if he’s innocent. It’ll be okay.” She patted Esther’s head.

And Esther knew Starker wasn’t innocent.

Back in reality, Esther scowled and rubbed her head. She hadn’t thought of it then, but it pissed her off now how condescending that hen really was.

She remained safe in her little area, hiding away from the dozen children or so running and tumbling about with each other. She didn’t want to talk to them, didn’t want to talk to anyone. She just wanted to go back home, get away from all these people. Esther flattened her ears. She hoped Starker was okay.

It wasn’t because she was antisocial, she thought as she saw a pack of reptile boys climb on top of a playset. It’s because she’s uncomfortable. She’s not used to all these other kids, some her age, some younger, and some older. She was out of her element. And it didn’t help that when her instincts told her to run, she couldn’t.

“Kids! Come inside! Snacktime!” The wolf mother howled out to the backyard, calling and herding in all of her kids. They truly weren’t all her’s, of course. Just the three triplets that played amongst all the others.

Esther heard her stomach growl, and decided that this was adequate enough for her to leave her safety area. She grabbed her walking stick and hoisted herself up, stepping carefully up the concrete stairs to the inside. All of the kids had already shuffled inside and were gobbling down the snacks set out for them. There was a single area at the pastel colored table with a neatly placed meal. Just for her.

Esther smiled, excited at the prospect of food given to her. It would provide some comfort to her in this scary, new environment.

“Is anyone going to eat that?” The oldest wolf triplet- wasn’t his name Charlie?- questioned obnoxiously, pointing to the meal at her spot on the table.

The deer blinked and hastily sat down in her spot, downplaying a glare that crossed her features.

She was just about to lay her hand over one of the cookies given, and watched with disbelief as the second oldest wolf just popped it into his large mouth, swallowing it in a single bite.

“That was mine,” she huffed. “These are mine.” She defended her rations by sheltering her fingers over them, pulling her meal closer and leaning over it. Charlie, who was sitting next to her, glares down at the small deer and pulls his jowls back in a sneer.

“You’re too late, missy.” He barked in her face, and she leans back, partially out of intimidation and his bad breath.

Her moment of weakness exposed her food, and he pushed them out all over the table. And the rest of the kids simply ate what came to them, not even bothering to wonder where it even came from. Esther squealed in horror, and resisted the urge to cry right there. She was hungry..

The kids eventually all stand out of their seats and eagerly careen themselves outside, already wanting to keep playing until the sun went down. Esther remained seated.

The mother came in with a rag and a spray bottle of cleaning solution, and spotted Esther, still at her spot.

Esther registered the few moments it took for the woman to remember her name. “Esther.. What’s wrong? All the kids are playing outside.”

Esther sniffed in response, wiping her glistening eyes with her arms. “H..He ate my snack.” She felt like she sounded too much like a baby when her explanation comes out, but it only makes her more upset.

“Who did?” She sat down at the chair across from her, despite it only being a fifth of her height. She sprayed the table and wipes it between them,

“I think, his name was Charlie.” She hiccuped. “I haven’t been able to eat since I was taken away from Starker. And I miss Starker, and I’m hungry, and I’m not used to this and I’m scared,” she rambled, tears bubbling over in her eyes once more and she wipes her eyes and nose again.

The mom listened patiently, her face even looked calm. “Charlie? My oldest?” She clarified.

Esther nodded. “I just want to go, and I want to be with Starker again.”

The wolf’s tongue flicked out over her jowls thoughtfully. “I’ll be sure to have a word with Charlie about it.” She hesitated. “It’s almost dinner, but would you like a snack to tide you over until then?”

A smile crawled up on the fawn’s face and she nodded once more, more excitedly this time.

The mother disappeared behind the door, and then came back a minute later, holding two slices of bread in her hand. As she set them down on the clean table, Esther noticed they had a thin coating of butter on each.

“Here you are, Esther. But this is all you get.”

Esther thanked her, and happily eats the small snack given to her. And for a little while, it’s not so bad.

Dinnertime rolls around, and it’s beef stew. Esther’s dismayed, and she goes looking for her foster mother, only to find the father. He was a big, sharp-toothed man, with a lot of fur that seemed constantly raised, and a growl in his voice.

“What?” He rumbled to the girl.

Esther’s already terrified of him. “I.. I’m a vegetarian.. I don’t.. Eat meat.” She struggled to spit the words out, feeling his growing impatience.

The wolf scoffed quietly, and tosses his head at the kid’s dining room. “There’s veggies in there. Eat those.”

Silently, Esther slinked back to her spot, only to find her bowl already cleaned.

The girl went to look for the mother again, but she’s out. Apparently, she works an extra job in the evenings and nights. She asked the father for a snack, and he scolds her for being so greedy.

At bedtime, she brushed her teeth miserably and crawls into her tiny bed, setting aside her walking stick at the nightstand, and laying her head on the musty, firm pillow. Fighting back tears, she curled her covers close to her and falls into a fitful, shallow sleep.