A Walk on the Duskside

[Bridget Dillon]

I'm more suited to biker leathers than those sweet Goth Lolita clothes I have seen on some of the residents in Duskside. They're doing their own thing, that's just not me. My day job is working in a forensics lab in the basement of one of hospitals in the city. It was working as a private investigator that paid for that fancy medical doctor's degree. I'm pretty unknown in this area and I like it that way. It's quieter here and few will question seeing the shadow of wolf in the moonlight just before something more human is seen. I'm at an advantage in some ways, I don't give off the signals of a werewolf to supernatural beings. That's because I'm not one. I was dying and my then partner in life convinced me that this was a good thing, allowing my genetic code to be altered. Those superior wolf senses come in handy when I'm on a case.

I have one rule, I won't dig up dirt for people of their exes or soon to be exes. Plenty of people do that kind of work, it's easy to track down cheaters. They eventually tip their hand. I miss my little backwoods place with its sleeping porch. Maybe it's time to hang up a shingle around here and begin hunting. Again.