Stefan heard rumbling approaching and he flipped up one of the blinds to look outside. A massive SUV was roaring down the gravel roadway towards the shelter. On top of the car's hood were two round floodlights over a fitted black grille. The SUV itself was a beige color and looked like something out of Jurassic Park. Stefan could see dents and scratches along the body of the car as it approached. He looked back at Jackie,
"I think this is Bob," he said, unenthused. Jackie stood up and joined him at the window, watching as the car came to a stop.
"Oh boy," she said, equally as unenthusiastic. The pair watched as the car came to a stop, sending up clouds of dirt behind it. The engine cut off and out stepped a man with a long stringy mullet and dark aviators. He wore a sleeveless dark jean vest and long khaki colored cargo shorts. A half smoked cigarette hung from his lips and he flicked it to the ground, smashing it with the tip of his faded black boots that reached halfway up his calves.
"He looks exactly how I thought he would," Stefan remarked dryly and Jackie snorted,
"Same," she replied. Bob glanced their way and Stefan dropped the blind, quickly sitting back at his desk as Jackie ran back to the front desk. Stefan heard the bell above the door jingle as Bob the bounty hunter entered the shelter.
"Hi little lady, I'm here about your, uh, situation." Stefan rolled his eyes as he stood up from his desk and walked out to the front desk. Bob was leaned against the desk with his right arm laid across it, a runic sort of tattoo, though faded, was visible on his weathered skin. The man was a walking stereotype. Bob noticed Stefan and stood up,
"You must be that Steven feller," he remarked.
"Stefan," Stefan corrected him,
"Yup."
The two stared at each other for a moment.
"So where's the critter?" Bob asked. Stefan sighed,
"As I told you on the phone, we no longer need your assistance. It has been adopted,"
"Mhm" Bob intoned thoughtfully, taking another cigarette out from his breast pocket and putting it in his mouth. Jackie tapped the no smoking sign on the front of the desk and Bob scowled, "I'm not smoking it, it's just in my mouth. Helps me think. Now you said that the creature was adopted by a grandma."
"Yes, some older lady and her son came and picked up the, um..." Jackie looked to Stefan, "What are we calling that?"
"Goblin, been reading about them." Bob answered and Jackie shot him a dirty look. Bob chewed on the end of the cigarette in his mouth, silent for a moment. "Now it just don't sit right with me that some grandma has that dangerous critter in her house. Goblins aren't 'sposed to be pets. They're dangerous."
"Well she hasn't called with any complaints." Jackie remarked. Stefan suppressed a smirk as Bob shook his head,
"Maybe she can't call," he replied ominously.
"Listen, Bob, you're a bounty hunter, right? There's no bounty and we aren't paying to collect this goblin thing. It has been adopted and there's no further discussion to be had," Stefan said firmly.
"Bounty hunter's just a title," Bob said gruffly, "And we can consider this some pro bono work here. I ain't about to let a grandmother get mauled because of this shelter's negligence."
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Stefan was about to object but he knew that the shelter did bear at least some fault for adopting out the goblin. Then again, there hadn't been any shocking news reports about a grandma and a goblin and there hadn't been any phone calls to the shelter complaining about some green menace. Based on Jackie's description, the woman who had adopted the strange creature definitely would have let them know if there were any issues. She seemed to be a no-nonsense type. Or at least the neighbors would have said something.
"Look, we're fine. Thanks for your offer, but it's not necessary." Stefan insisted. Bob shook his head,
"I'm not giving up on this," he responded. "Now what address did that goblin get sent to?"
"We are under no obligation to provide that information. In fact, we have to protect the privacy of our clients." Stefan said, crossing his arms.
"Alright, fine." Bob said. He shook his head again and moved his aviators from the top of his head back to his eyes. Stefan could see his own reflection in the lenses. Bob turned around and walked out of the shelter. Stefan heard the SUV's engine roar and then its tires squeal as it roared out of the gravel driveway.
"I miss when this job was boring," Stefan remarked.
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Bob scowled as he drove down the gravel driveway. Who did that man think he is? There was no way that he could allow some sweet southern grandma to keep a goblin in her house. He had been reading up on the creatures and they were bad news. According to the books he'd been reading, Grimm's fairytales and the like, they were nasty creatures with a propensity for violence. They were fairies and not the cutesy ones like on tv, but the nastier type with the same sort of trickster habits as their more well regarded cousins.
Bob had hoped that the shelter would cooperate but he could find this creature the old fashioned way. He had been a private investigator once after all. And the town wasn't particularly large, it wouldn't take too long. Bob turned up the radio, blasting Led Zeppelin through the SUV's speakers as he drove down the backroads towards the main part of town, where all the grocery stores were concentrated. Southern grandmas were prone to gossip and there was one place everyone in town had to go, and that was the grocery store. He would start there.
Bob pulled into the parking lot of the Piggly Wiggly and turned off the engine. He stepped out of the car and looked around the half-filled lot. A store associate collected carts from the cart return and various people walked in and out of the store, carrying bags of groceries or walking through the sliding glass doors into the air-conditioned building. Bob shut the door of his car and locked it before walking towards the store. He slid his aviators to the top of his head as he entered the store, glancing around, his eyes narrowed as he searched for clues.
Bob walked through the produce section, listening to the various conversations happening around him. One couple was discussing their plans for the weekend while another pair debated the value of buying organic. An older woman remarked on the price of lettuce and how expensive it had gotten. Bob walked through the store, lingering in the various aisles to listen for anything that might help him. Though he considered himself an expert private investigator, he wasn't the most inconspicuous of individuals and a mother shot him a skeptical look as she hurriedly pushed the cart with her toddler sitting in it out of the aisle.
He spent about an hour in the store, moseying through the meat section, canvassing the cereals, and profiling by the pickles. He turned up empty handed and decided to try one more tactic.
"Seen any grandmas here lately?" Bob asked, leaning up against the conveyor belt at the checkout counter. The cashier side-eyed him,
"Do you have anything to purchase, sir?" she asked flatly. Bob looked around and then grabbed a candy bar and a bottled Coke from the fridge by the register, setting them in front of the cashier. She rolled her and scanned the items, "$3.75" she said. Bob pulled out his wallet and took out four one-dollar bills, handing them to the cashier,
"You can keep the change if you answer my question." Bob said with a wink. The cashier scoffed and promptly slapped a quarter in front of him,
"It's a Piggly Wiggly, dude. I see a lot of grandmas. But I do not get paid minimum wage to have conversations about every elderly old woman who walks through my line. Have a nice day." She said, turning away from Bob.
Bob took the quarter and his candy bar and soda and shook his head,
"Different times," he muttered as he twisted off the cap of the soda and took a swig. He'd have to find another way to get information and find the goblin.