Read The Money Bird (An Animals in Focus Mystery) Online
Authors: Sheila Webster Boneham
Tags: #Fiction, #mystery, #cozy, #mystery novel, #mystery fiction, #novel, #animals, #soft-boiled, #dog show, #dogs
The Money Bird (An Animals in Focus Mystery) (6 page)
I shrugged and opened the refrigerator.
“Hang on,” said George, getting up and washing his hands in the sink. “I’m just about to make my gourmet grilled cheese sandwiches. Hungry?”
What I took for the ingredients were laid out near the stove. I stepped closer. A block of Gruyère, another of white cheddar.
These are not cheap cheeses,
I thought, looking at the per-pound labels. A couple of homegrown tomatoes, no doubt from Goldie’s garden. She’d sent several home with Tom. Whole-grain bread with sunflower seeds. Fresh spinach. My mouth started to water.
“I want two!” I said.
George grinned as he got to work and Tom filled me in on their morning at the lake. They had arrived before dawn and were on the island when the sun peeked over the treetops to the east. According to Tom, George did a mean parrot imitation, and it didn’t take long before “our bird” flew in and landed on the old sycamore. That was exciting enough, but when he had enough light to see the bird clearly, George had confirmed its identity.
George stopped slicing cheese for a moment. He looked at me and said, “Honestly, I almost peed my pants. I’ve never seen one at all, anywhere, and here it is, flying around in northern Indiana.”
He choked slightly on the last word, then continued, “The Carmine Parrot is a gorgeous bird, and so rare and endangered, and these bastards …” He shook his head and went back to making the sandwiches.
“Carmine Parrot,” I murmured. “What a lovely name.”
Tom changed the subject. “You sure disappeared in Kroger this morning.”
“Oh, yeah, that.”
Tom rested his elbows on the table and his chin in his hands. “What did you do?” He sounded resigned to whatever might follow. I noticed that George was grinning as he layered cheese and tomatoes.
George stopped smiling when I got to our encounter with Rich Campbell and said, “Seriously, Janet, that guy is mental. You need to be really careful.”
Tom just stared at me. I appreciated his ability to keep quiet even though he was worried, which was clear in his eyes. It must have been clear in his chemistry, too, because Drake came and laid his head in Tom’s lap and gazed up at him, a perfect mirror of the look Tom had been giving me.
“Come on, guys, lighten up. I’m not going hand-to-hand with the guy.”
Time to change the subject,
I thought. “Wonder why Jo hasn’t called back.”
“Oh, she did! Sorry. I meant to tell you,” said Tom.
“She called you?” I asked.
“Said your line went straight to voice mail.”
“What?” I pulled my phone out of my pocket. Dead. “Aww, crap. Again?”
George flipped a sandwich in the pan and said, “I used to do that all the time.”
“I don’t do it all the time.”
I do, but I didn’t need a scolding.
“Where’s your charger, Tom?”
He handed me his phone and took mine. “I don’t know that my charger will fit your phone but here, call her.”
On the third ring, Jo said, “Did she show up yet?”
“Yes, she did,” I said.
“Hey, I’m standing in your driveway. Where the heck are you?”
“Why are you standing in my driveway?” I asked.
“You at Tom’s place?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “Stay there! I’m on my way.”
“What’s go …”
“Just stay there, okay? I have something to show you.” And she was gone.
“Those smell great, George,” I said. He had two sandwiches done and on plates and was melting butter for the third. I turned to Tom and asked, “Do you know what’s up with Jo?”
“Nope,” he said, but he had a funny twitch going on at the corners of his mouth.
“How come you know everything about my friends before I do?”
He raised his hands in surrender and said, “I don’t know anything.”
“Let’s eat!” said George.
Tom told the dogs to lie down by the wall. Jay slowly sank into a sphinx position but kept his eyes fixed at the correct angle to watch my sandwich, as if he had x-ray vision. Drake circled once and then dropped to the vinyl with a muscular
thunk
and let out a big sigh.
Without looking at the poor things, George grinned and said, “You never feed them, do you?”
We had just cleared the table and released the dogs when I heard a car door.
“Must be Jo,” I said.
“Come on guys, let’s go out back,” said Tom, hustling the dogs out the sliding door into the back yard, a maneuver I found a bit odd. Jo loves dogs, and even if her partner, Hutch, was with her, he was coming around. Jay had taken Hutchinson on as his personal project, no doubt aware long before I was that the man was just afraid of dogs, and what we fear, we dislike. Jay was working on that.
Tom caught up with me at the front door, pulled it open, and let me go through first.
“Oh my God!” I blurted.
Jo Stevens stood in the yard with a gorgeous puppy of indeterminate breed.
“You got a puppy!” I had to fight the impulse to rush the pup and scoop him or her into my arms, knowing that from where the
little guy stood, that would be terrifying. Instead I walked slowly
toward Jo and the pup, sat on the grass a couple feet away, and let the pup come to me. Tom and George did the same, sinking to the ground next to me. The puppy, who appeared to be about twelve weeks old, launched himself into my lap and licked and nibbled my chin. Then he bounced from my lap to Tom’s and tried to pull Tom’s collar off.
“Okay, big guy, leave the shirt,” said Tom, gently fending off the assault. “Nothing shy about this guy!”
The puppy had medium-long fur the color of corn stalks in autumn, but unlike a Golden Retriever, he had white stockings, a white chest, and a white stripe down his face. I held him out from me so I could look at him. His eyes still had a hint of deep puppy blue but were heading toward brown, and on closer inspection I saw that his coat was not a solid wheaty yellow as I thought at first, but mottled.
“Aussie-Golden cross?” I asked Jo.
“Wow, you’re good. Yes, he is.” She was grinning all over herself. “Daddy is an Aussie, mama a Golden. Accidental breeding—the Aussie boy actually opened the back door of the people’s house to come visit.”
“Interesting mix,” said Tom. “He won’t know whether to round the birds up or carry them.”
“The door thing sounds familiar,” I said. Jay had a habit of opening my back door and letting himself in.
Jo laughed. “Both parents, oddly enough, are champions. They live a few doors apart, train together. Neither of the owners was happy about this, but, you know, here they are. At least both parents had all their health clearances, so chances are these guys will be healthy, or have a fighting chance. And there were only two puppies.”
I was trying to think who I knew with a champion Aussie in town and the only ones I could think of were bitches. “Who are the dogs’ owners? I might know them.”
“Maybe, but they’re in Evansville.”
So probably not. Evansville is the very far end of the state from Fort Wayne, and fits the old “you can’t get there from here” joke because there is no major highway between the two cities, at least not until they finish the interstate extension. “We don’t really see many people from Evansville at most shows up this way.”
“Yeah, it’s a long haul,” said Jo. “We just drove it, didn’t we?” She stroked the puppy’s head.
“Yes, the missing detective.” I got the pup down on his back in the grass and calmed him with a belly rub. “What’s his name?”
“Not sure. I want to live with him for a few days and let him tell me.”
Tom winked at me and gestured with his head toward Jo. “Smart woman.”
George came out and we made the introductions, then moved to the backyard and let the pup meet Jay and Drake. He licked their chins, then jumped on Jay’s head. Jay was not amused, and gently but firmly pushed the little guy down and held him there for a moment. When he let go, the puppy gave Drake a try and although the black dog didn’t look happy, he didn’t object to the puppy rough stuff. “Better get used to it, old man,” said Tom.
George threw a tennis ball, and Drake and the puppy ran after it. Jay looked at me as if to say, “I’m not getting into that mess.” We all watched while George and Tom tossed the ball a few more times. Drake always got there first and picked up the ball, then let the little guy take it from his mouth and carry it. Finally the puppy’s battery seemed to wind down and he flopped down next to Jay. He fought to keep his eyes open but was out cold in about two minutes.
We filled Jo in on all the things we had learned.
“I’d like to necropsy the dead bird,” said George.
Jo looked thoughtful for a moment, then said, “I think we can arrange that. Today, if I can clear it?”
“Perfect,” said George.
Jo looked at her watch and said, “Right. I’ll get this guy,” she nodded at the pup, “squared away and meet you there, make a few calls on my way.”
Before she could stand up and wake the puppy, I said, “So, Jo, I thought you didn’t want a dog yet? How are you going to manage a puppy?”
She smiled at me. “That’s what I’ve been wanting to tell you.” If you saw Jo in law-enforcement mode, you wouldn’t think her capable of squealing, but excitement launched her voice about three octaves higher as she said, “I’ve been accepted into the SAR program!” Meaning Search and Rescue. Jo gave the sleeping puppy a loving look. “He’s my partner. We’re going to train together.”
“Really?”
“I know, you’re wondering about the breeding. They take a lot of mixed-breed dogs in this program. Often rescued or shelter dogs, if they have the drive. One of the instructors, you know, high-ranking SAR guy, heard about this litter and thought the cross would make for good workers. They passed the temperament and other tests with flying colors, so the owner donated him and his sister to the program. When I picked him up she said she felt guilty about not keeping her dog, you know, the mama, secure, and she thought this might turn a bad mistake to something good. And now he’s mine.”
The dogs got up when we did, but the puppy was groggy. Tom picked him up and carried him like a baby to Jo’s car, rubbing his chest and cooing to him, and something in my own chest did a little dance. Tom slid the little guy into the crate in the backseat of Jo’s car. The pup turned around in circles until he found the perfect spot, then flopped and went right back to sleep. Jo took off and we went back into the house long enough to grab what we needed, settle Jay and Drake, and lock up. Tom and George were off to have a closer look at the dead parrot. I had questions about living birds, although I didn’t tell Tom how I planned to find a few answers.
forty-four
I glanced at my
phone where it lay on the passenger seat. The screen
was lit, the “new message” signal flashing. It was working again.
“Janet, I’m sorry I didn’t call on Sunday.” I had expected Giselle to be upset that I hadn’t called her. One of us obviously mis-remembered the plan, but this worked for me. “I got really busy for a while, and, you know, I got my bird, you know, the one I told you I might get? I mean, she’s not really mine, I’m a, you know, guardian. Just for a while.” There was a pause, then, “So, Janet, can we meet, maybe, you know, maybe today? This afternoon? I sort of need to, you know, need to talk?” Pause. “To you?” Pause. “About something?” Giselle may have
looked a lot better than she did four months earlier, but her self-con
fidence still had a long way to go.
I ran through my mental list of things I really needed to do. Laundry was number one, unless I wanted to buy more undies. On the other hand, Giselle said she had her bird, the one placed in her “guardianship” by Treasures on Earth. I wouldn’t mind getting a look at him or her. My phone hadn’t been plugged in long enough during lunch to get more than a low charge, but I was pretty sure it had enough juice to get at least one photo of Giselle’s parrot, assuming it was a parrot, for George to look at. My camera would be better, but if I pulled that out Giselle might have a nervous breakdown, so the phone would have to do.
I made the call.
“No, not there. I mean, I’m not at home,” said Giselle. My first im
pulse was to try to talk my way into her house, but something in her voice stopped me and we agreed instead to meet at my house in half an hour. That gave me time to stop at Kroger for laundry soap. I spent a few minutes looking for the phone charger for the car, digging around under a pile of magazines, a towel, a rain poncho, and three sweatshirts on the back seat, then searched under all the seats. That turned up my missing stopwatch, half a dozen pens, and a bent paperback on organizing stuff. I tried to flatten it out, thinking maybe I should read it. There was no sign of the charger.
Don’t forget to plug it in as soon as you get home
, I thought.
Kroger was busy. I grabbed the detergent and decided to hit the bakery as well. The carrot cake cupcakes called to me, but when I thought about how hard Giselle had worked to take off the weight
and how I should be doing the same, I decided to pick up a bag of pita
chips and some grilled red pepper hummus instead. I was just reach
ing for the hummus when a brain tingle made me look around. At first
I didn’t see anything, but at the end of the aisle a curved mirror
mounted
high on the wall caught my eye. The image was distorted and
small at that distance, but I was sure someone was standing at the end of the row of freezers behind me. The figure was still at first, but as I watched, it seemed to lean in my direction. Someone peeking around the corner? Or just looking at products on display? I shifted my gaze from the mirror and was sure I saw something. Or someone. Hair? A face? It was such a fleeting image that I couldn’t be sure, and when I looked back at the mirror, whatever it was had disappeared.
I dropped the hummus into my basket and scurried toward the end of the freezers. There was no one there. The image in the mirror was vague, and the memory of it even harder to hold. A blue shirt? Or gray? I walked as quickly as I could, given the crowd of shoppers, weaving between shopping carts as I crossed the back of the store. I looked down every aisle, and finally spotted someone in a blue shirt and baseball cap. Tall. Something familiar in the walk, but I couldn’t place it. Whoever it was walked between the check out lanes and turned left toward the exit, then was gone.
I stood there for a moment, watching out the front window. My view was partially blocked by the displays spread across the front of the store, and I was partway down the aisle, but still I thought I might catch another glimpse. I was about to give up when I saw a blue shirt pushing a cart into the cart garage.
Rich Campbell. He always seemed to wear blue shirts. Or was it? A little shiver in my shoulders said yes, but my rational mind told me that was just silly. For one thing, would he be civil enough to put the cart away? That small courtesy was enough to make me think I really was overreacting. And even if it were Campbell, he had to eat, right? Had to buy groceries?
This far from Treasures?
a little voice asked me. And then another little voice told me not to be stupid, it wasn’t him, and if it was, well, there were all sorts of reasons for him to be in town.
Get a grip, Janet.
Giselle was sitting on my front porch when I pulled into my driveway. She had on a poncho, but not one of the old ratty-looking ones she used to wear. This one was a heathery blue blend, and looked good on her, if a bit out of season.
“Giselle! Am I late?” I glanced at my wrist but I’d forgotten to put my watch on when I dressed. Still, how could I be late? I hadn’t dawdled that long in the store.
“No, I’m early? I just, you know, I didn’t have anything else to do so …” She let the thought trickle off.
“Are you okay?” She didn’t look okay, although sometimes it’s hard to tell with Giselle.
“Oh, sure, you know, I’m fine?”
“Where’s your car?” Giselle’s hard-to-miss old Yugo was nowhere to be seen.
“Oh, I, umm, …” Giselle swayed from foot to foot and pushed a hand through her hair. She looked down the street toward the subdivision entrance. “Can we go inside?”
Leo met us at the door but ignored me to stand up with his paws on Giselle’s thighs and meow at her poncho.
I grinned and said, “He’s fine with dogs. You can put Precious down.” I should have guessed the little guy was with her. Giselle goes few places without her Maltese, especially if she can tuck him under a piece of clothing. Hence the poncho in August. “Come on, let’s sit in the kitchen. Let me drop a load in the washer, okay?”
Precious froze when Giselle set him down, and she said, “He’s never been close to a kitty.”
Leo extended his neck and sniffed experimentally at the little dog.
“I guess they’re even,” I said. “Leo’s never been close to a dog that’s smaller than he is.”
Precious looked up at Giselle and Leo looked up at me, and then they both seemed to relax. By the time I got the laundry going and came back to the kitchen, the two of them were taking turns chasing each other to the living room and back.
“Aren’t they cute?” Giselle put a hand over her mouth and giggled. “I didn’t know Precious liked kitties.”
“They are cute, yep,” I said. “So Giselle, what’s up?”
“Oh, you know, I wanted to talk to you?” I waited for her to continue. “It’s just, you know, it’s been a long time.”
Ho boy.
I was starting to lose patience, but knowing Giselle, I might
as well settle in for the ride. Directness is not her middle name, but something was definitely on her mind, and it wasn’t the months since we had our last heart-to-heart.
“How about some iced tea and hummus with pita chips?” I asked, getting to my feet and wondering whether I was becoming one of those have-a-cuppa old-lady sleuths.
Nah.
“Tea would be nice. But hot, if it’s not too much trouble. No food
, please. And no sugar.”
The interlude while I put the kettle on seemed to buck her up a bit, and when I sat down again she started a rapid-fire delivery.
“Janet, I’m so worried. There’s something, I don’t know, something wrong I think with the birds, you know, the bird I’m taking care of, you know, I’m a guardian now for the birds for Treasures, you know, for Mr. Moneypenny and them, and, I don’t know what’s, I mean …”
“Whoa, Giselle!” I reached across the table and laid my hand on hers. “Giselle, slow down.”
She stared at me as if I’d slapped her and said, “Okay.”
Silence. I waited. And waited. The kettle whistled. I filled the pot. Precious chased Leo into the kitchen, barked three times, then spun and took off with the cat right behind him. I sat back down and looked at Giselle, but didn’t say anything.
Giselle finally spoke, and seemed a bit more relaxed. “Okay. I don’t know what’s going on, Janet, and I don’t know who to talk to.”
“So you called me.”
“Yes. Well, I think you sort of called me.” The corners of her mouth lifted and she looked at me out of the corner of her eye.
“Right.”
“Okay, well, I think there’s something bad going on.” She paused. “You know, with the birds?”
Avian flu?
“Is your bird sick, Giselle?”
“What?”Her eyes widened. “No! Oh, no, I don’t mean that. I mean,
you know, they’re doing something wrong. Not the birds. I mean, you
know, people there?”
“Like Moneypenny?”
Giselle’s shoulders sagged and her voice shifted down half an octave. “I don’t know.”
I poured the tea and set a mug in front of Giselle. She wrapped her fingers around it and inhaled the steam.
“This smells really good. Sort of relaxing.”
“Blackberry sage, my favorite brew.” She was right about the fragrance, too. It always calms me down. “So why do you think something bad is going on?”
“Okay, I got my bird. You know, the one I’m taking care of. Mr. Campbell brought her to my house with the cage and food and all, you know?”
“Okay.”
“He told me, you know, gave me a bunch of weird rules. Oh, look at them!” She pointed at Leo and Precious, who were both tanking up at the water bowl. It’s big enough for a party of critters their size, since it’s really Jay’s bowl. “Maybe I should get a cat instead. The bird doesn’t like Precious much.”
I watched Leo and Precious lie down side by side on the cool vinyl. “I’d say they’re having a good time. So, Giselle,” I turned my attention back to her, “what kind of weird rules?”
“Don’t take pictures of her. Isn’t that weird? I mean, if they want to find her a home, why not let people know she needs one?”
“Does she?”
“What?”
“Does the bird need a home? What’s her name, anyway, and what kind of bird is she?”
“Oh.” Giselle seemed confused by at least one of those questions. “That’s another thing. I asked what kind she is and he said ‘parrot,’ and I said, ‘yes, but what kind of parrot,’ and he acted like that was a dumb question and said, ‘just a parrot.’” She shook her head and scowled. “That’s like ‘just a dog.’ I mean even a mixed breed is a mix of something, right, not ‘just a dog’?”
I sure wouldn’t argue with her about that.
Giselle went on, “So I tried to figure out on the computer what kind of parrot she is but I don’t know, you know, there are a lot of them that kind of look alike?”
“I know someone who would know. Would you let him have a look?”
Something like fear moved across Giselle’s face, and her voice rose again. “No, I mean, I can’t, he said not to let anyone see her, and, I don’t know …”
“Moneypenny?”
“Mr. Campbell.”
“Giselle, did he threaten you?”
“Not really.” She stared into her tea.
“What’s that mean?” I asked. “Did he or didn’t he?”
“Really, not really. But, I don’t know, I sort of felt like he’d do something if I didn’t follow the rules.”
“How about if you break just one little rule and take a picture of your bird? And then give it to me?” I asked. If she would do that, George could have a look and no doubt identify the bird.
Giselle reached into her poncho and produced an envelope. She handed it to me, a nervous twitch working on her eyebrow. Inside were three photos of a lovely blue parrot with yellow edges to her wings, like epaulettes, and a green band across her throat.
“Oh, she’s gorgeous!” I spread the photos on the table in front of me.
“I know.” Giselle’s fingers were tapping quick time on her mug. “She’s really pretty. But not too friendly. Really, I think she’s kind of scared.” I looked at Giselle. “I feel sad that she has to be in the cage but she’s so scared, I’m afraid if I take her out I’ll never catch her.”
“Poor thing.” I tapped a photo. “May I keep these for a few days?”
“No. I mean, they’re for you. You can keep them.”
“Giselle, you’re doing the right thing, you know.” At least I hoped she was. Mostly I hoped she wasn’t putting herself in danger. If I was right about Rich Campbell, he wasn’t a man to be crossed lightly. I couldn’t see Giselle fighting back effectively if he attacked her, and although I was sure that Precious would defend her to the death, at his size, he couldn’t really do much.
“Janet, do you think they’re doing something with these birds?
Something to hurt them?”
“I think they may be doing something illegal, yes.”
How much should I say?
“Giselle, you can’t talk to anyone else about any of this, you know. Not yet, okay?”
“I know.”
“Really, Giselle. If they’re up to what I think they’re up to, there’s a lot of money at stake, plus federal crimes. So hush hush, okay?”
“Okay.”
I remembered that I hadn’t seen Giselle’s car out front so I asked her how she got to my place.
“I drove. I parked over at the embroidery shop.”
I had to think a moment. “The embroidery shop in Georgetown Square?” That’s a shopping center at least a mile from my house, and I couldn’t think of a direct walking route. “Why?”
“In case …” She didn’t finish the thought, but I did.
“You think you’re being watched?” I flashed back to the figure at the grocery store, and suddenly was positive it had been Campbell.
Giselle shrugged.
“Let me drive you back.”
“No, I’ll walk. I mean, if he, you know, someone, is watching me, that would sort of blow my cover, wouldn’t it?” She grinned at me.
