Shorts: The Furry Years Read Online Free PDF Page A

and I showed him inside.
    "Rasha, this is Sheriff Jackson, I think you remember him." I introduced her.
    "Vaguely." She sniffed his hand briefly as they shook.
    "Well I remember you, though I must say you look a lot friendlier now, Hon." He smiled easily.
    "I hope you're not here looking to hire me," I sighed as I headed for the kitchen and started to make some coffee.
    "Why's that?" he asked curiously, sitting down at the table.
    Rasha sat across from him.
    "I don't feel like playing snitch or any of the stuff everybody wants. Just because there's this whole new group of people around, it doesn't mean there should be a rush to spy on them, does it?"
    "Couldn't agree with you more on that one! But I'm not looking for inside men, or finks."
    "What are you looking for then?" grumbled Rasha as I handed her a steaming cup. She was becoming more of a caffeine freak then I was.
    "Marshals, what else?"
    "Why do they want a tiger for a Marshall ?" I asked handing him a cup.
    "Why do they want police in any minority group? To give folks somebody they feel they can talk to about their troubles. To get them on the right side of the law. To investigate their crimes. What else?"
    "Their crimes? We've only been around two weeks!" protested Rasha.
    "And there have been twenty murders, six lynchings, and sixteen kidnappings. And that's just on the West Coast," he said quietly. "A lot of people have been trying to grab us, for their own purposes. So the Department of Justice decided to do something about it; a task force. No spy stuff, no ratting on folks, just plain police work. Interested?"
    "Kidnappings?" I said, surprised. "Nobody's bothered either of us, right love?"
    "You look in a mirror lately John?" He laughed at my expression.
    "Yeah, so what?" I said indignantly.
    "Do you think anybody in their right mind is going to harass you? You're a huge, mean-looking tiger now, so's your girl. Well actually, she always was." He chuckled and ducked as Rasha took a playful swipe at him.
    "But not all are so lucky. So I'm hiring, here's your badge and I'll see you downtown Monday morning at eight."
    "What makes you think I'll take the job?" I growled annoyed at him.
    "Because you need a job, for starters."
    "I can get a job lots of places," I countered.
    "Then there's the little thing about sleeping with a minor,"
    "WHAT!" I roared. "WHO???"
    "Her." He pointed at Rasha. "She is only three you know." He chuckled at my look of discomfort.
    "That would never stand up in court! And you know it!" I snarled, my temper starting to show.
    "Wanna bet?" He smiled nastily. "Take the job, give it a while. If you really hate it, you can quit. But right now there are a lot of people getting the short end who don't deserve it and I need help helpin' them. You're elected."
    I had a sinking feeling. I guess I had a new job after all. "I should never have contributed to your re-election campaign." I grumbled.
    "Yup, like they say, 'No good deed goes unpunished!'" Marshall Jackson stood to leave.
    "What about me?" asked Rasha.
    "Oh, I'll see that things get set straight so you won't have to worry, Hon." He smiled.
    "No, I want a job too."
    "Sorry Hon, this is man's wor--ekk!"
    "Rasha! Put him down! Now!" I yelled. She had him by the neck and was straight arming him two feet off the floor.
    "I'm not letting you go out there to get shot at without me, dear. You're just not mean enough." She looked back at the marshal. "I am however!" she purred.
    "Okay, okay!" Jackson gasped and she set him down carefully.
    "Damn, woman!" He panted, getting his breath back. "I had damn well better hire you so I can at least fine you the next time you do that!"
    "Good, now you had better get going. I can see by the look in my mate's eyes that he wants to discuss this privately."
    He took one look at me, grinned and said "I'm outta here alrighty!" and left, fast!
    I supposed my growling wasn't helping much.
    The 'discussion' lasted till very late that evening, with the kitchen bearing