The Cougar Returns!

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Thereasa hangs up the phone and her mind races with possibilities — What happened to her current cub? He was supposed to keep the shop running while she presented her research papers to the secret gathering of NonSaneO and C.I.X. agents. If even one of her “beasties” turned up in the wrong hands, there could be public outrage — rioting in the streets as people realized the dangers of venomous eight legged web-spinning raccoons, bats, and even bears.

Thereasa recognized that the missing Steven was only a small part of her problem. And having to report to Detective Tamworth was the first step. That would be an easy fix:

Thereasa looks across the banquet room until she spots what she is looking for. She walks up and says: “Hello again Stan, One of your detectives just called me. A guy named Tamworth. I’m to see him at 10 on Monday. Make sure he pronounces my name right.”

Back in St. John’s, Thereasa goes straight to her tree top estate in the cedar canopy of Forest park. She finds that all her bugs have gone wild in the last few days. “Damn, It’s the full moon. The bugs all go hyperactive and the full hunter’s moon must have been a problem for Steve.” Still, there were no signs that any of her bugs had done any damage: Steve had restrained them properly. It seems that he just left. But where?

It took hours for her to calm her little friends and get them into “afterglow.” Finally at 2AM, relieved that her secret ranch in the treetops is undisturbed, she sleeps the sleep of exhausted. The next morning she heads over the the St. John’s police station.

Detective Tamworth: “Mr. Steven Boitoi has gone missing. He was reported to our department last Saturday. It seems that no one has seen him since Wednesday.”

TC — “I have been out of town since last Sunday. Steve and I went to the airport together. He saw me off, and sent me an e-mail the next day. Any further questions and I will want a lawyer present.”

DT — “I have no more questions at this time.” As he says this he pulls out a photo from his notes, and lays it down on the table. It is a grainy, blurred image of an 8 legged raccoon lounging high up in a tree at Pier Park. The detective looks closely for any reaction.

Squinting a bit at the photo, she says: “What’s that?”

DT — “I thought you might tell me, Ms Koogray.” His voice rises in anticipation of a crack in her demeanor.

Just at that moment, the detective’s cell phone rings: “Yes?… Yes, I have Ms. koogray here… Oh… Koo GAR Ray, yes, I won’t make that mistake again, Sir… Yes… I will have all files on your desk when you arrive. Yes, Sir… Thank you sir.”

He turns several shades of red and hurriedly snatches the photo away. Straigtening up his notes, he turns and says: “Well, it seems that the Chief himself saw you both at the airport, Ms. Qugaré. I have no further questions.”

TC — “I know you are doing your job. And from the looks of it, you are on a path to become quite a great detective.” A little powdered sugar up the detective’s ass at a time like this might just pay off. A little interplanetary Mars-Venus diplomacy might end up in a conjuction. TC smiles secretly to herself as she leaves the police station.

Then it hits her. That picture was not taken in Forest Park! It wasn’t one of her spinners! She had to find out what was happening before St. John’s is overrun!

Next: The Mob Muscles In.

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