Bogart Vol 01 No 01 -

He turned away from the plane and walked back into the shadows of the city. He had a drink to catch up on, and a new story to write in the next volume of his life.

"Goodbye, kid," he muttered to himself, echoing a ghost from a past he could never quite shake. "Hurry back".

"I’m looking for something that doesn't want to be found," she whispered, her voice like sandpaper on silk.

"I got held up," Bogart replied, his hand tightening into a fist. "Now, where's the girl?"

The door creaked open, and in walked a fox—not a metaphorical one, but a literal, red-furred fox in a trench coat. She was looking for her sister, and Bogart, ever the gentleman, called her beautiful and took the case.

Bogart leaned back, his eyes narrowing. He lived by a simple code: the world is always one drink behind. He knew that finding a missing person in this town was like trying to find a honest man in a den of thieves. But for a beautiful fox, he was willing to try.