by J. R. Ripley
Derek pulled the van’s keyring from his pocket and bounced it in the palm of his free hand. “It’s not that simple.”
I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. “Believe me, with Esther the Pester nothing is ever simple!”
We walked up to the van and climbed inside. “So where is she? Do we have to pick her up at the station or is she meeting us out at the Audubon Center?”
We were on our way to the John James Audubon Center at Mill Grove. Derek and I had signed up for one of the birding walks.
The original home on the property had been built in 1762. The house sat on a hill overlooking Perkiomen Creek, a tributary of the Schuylkill—the very same Schuylkill along which the Laurel Hill Cemetery was located.
As a young man, John James Audubon had spent several years living in the house at Mill Grove, which was now only a mile or so from the Greater Philadelphia Expo Center.
I’d been looking forward to visiting. Now, my excitement was dulled by current events.
Derek cranked up the engine and pulled onto the street. “She’s MIA.”
“MIA?”
“Missing in action.”
I turned to stare at him. “What do you mean missing in action? When did the police release her?”
“Last night.”
“She never came to our room. Didn’t they give her a ride back to the Eagle Inn?”
“Detective Locke says they offered.”
“And?”
“And Esther declined.”
“Declined.” I shut my eyes as Derek sped up. “Are you telling me the police let an old woman loose on the streets in a strange town, late at night to walk home alone?”
“She left in the company of a friend.”
“Floyd and Karl?”
“Marty.”
I bit my lip.
“The Osprey.” I clenched my fist. “What are those two up to?”
“I wish I knew.” Derek stomped on the gas and passed a wide gray sanitation truck. “Do you really believe all this Osprey stuff?”
“With Esther, I never know what to believe.” Knowing it was probably futile, I dug my phone from my purse. “I’m calling her.” I dialed and pressed my ear to my phone.
“Well?”
“I got a recording.” I tried Floyd and Karl next. Ditto. “Do you think we should telephone Detective Locke and tell him Karl and Floyd are missing now?”
Derek exited the highway. “Philadelphia isn’t his jurisdiction. Not to mention, we have no idea where they are. Two grown men, one of whom is a former police chief. I don’t think the locals are going to get too worked up over them spending a night on the town.”
“I suppose you’re right.”
Derek smiled. “I always am. You said it yourself, they probably gambled all night.”
“Considering how much money Karl lost the first night, the two of them will end up penniless and homeless.”
Derek’s smile turned to a big fat smirk. “They could always move into your house.”
“Oh, no. I’ve got two boarders too many already.”
“Understood.” Derek’s phone spat out some directions and he complied. “Besides, we’ll probably find all three of them huddled together sipping coffee and eating jelly doughnuts down by the creek.”
My stomach growled as we pulled down a twisting rural road. Derek found a parking space in the nearly full lot. I tipped the remainder of my bitter black coffee down my gullet. Another gallon of coffee and a dozen warm donuts and I’d be good to go.
Irving Shipman was to be our guide. We found him and about a dozen others huddled near the small compound that housed some permanently injured birds, including a great horned owl and two eastern screech owls.
Irving said hello and looked at his watch. “Let’s get started, shall we?”
We followed John’s Trail, a steep, lovely path along which we managed to see and hear several species including chimney swifts, crows, several great crested flycatchers and even an adult female northern parula.
Trailing behind the others, I trained my binoculars on a common yellowthroat as it bounded through the vegetation.
Derek tapped my shoulder. “Who is that down there?”
I reluctantly lowered my binoculars. The male common yellowthroat was a rare sighting for me. The bird has a black mask like Zorro.
Far off the trail, a man and woman stood in close quarters.
“I wish I had thought to bring my camera. Something about that man looks familiar.”
Derek pulled me sideways until we were half hidden by a black walnut tree. “I don’t know about the kid. The woman definitely looks familiar.”
“She should.” I trained my binoculars on the pair as they stood near the water’s edge amongst a tangle of shrubbery far below us. “That’s Ilsa Skoglund.” She was dressed in olive pants and a tan coat with a knit cap over her long tresses. The young man wore rumpled jeans and a black hoodie.
I watched in silence. The two were gesticulating in hard, rapid movements. “I wish I knew what they were saying.”
“I don’t think they’re talking about birds.” Derek leaned heavily against the tree.
“Neither do I.”
Ilsa Skoglund glanced up. She must have said something to the man because he looked up too.
I smiled and waved my binoculars in the air. “Nice morning for bird watching, isn’t it?”
The young man limped off. Ilsa stared at us a moment longer then left in the opposite direction.
“That was interesting.” Derek brushed himself off. “Until I met you, I didn’t realize birding was so much like a soap opera.”
“Neither did I.”
We quickened our steps in search of Irving and our group. We found them gathered on the expansive lawn below the big stone house.
“What’s going on?” I whispered to Irving.
“Phoebe has arranged for a sunrise memorial for our JJ.”
“I see.” Derek and I had left in the middle of the keynote speech last night and were unaware.
I heard whispers discussing Ilsa’s surprise declaration. In terms of gossip and newsworthiness among my fellow birders, the discovery of the lingering existence of the long-thought extinct ivory-billed woodpecker was on par with the sudden demise of JJ Fuller.
Phoebe stood shoulder to shoulder with Lorna Fuller. The widow was dressed for the occasion in dark slacks and a long black coat. Her hair sparkled in the rising sun. Phoebe was more casual, in faded blue jeans, hiking boots and a navy parka. A half dozen candles had been placed in the earth. Their tiny flames flickered as Lorna said a few words.
Nikki Nilsson stood off to one side, alone. Her eyes appeared puffy. Whether it was from grief or too much drinking and lack of sleep, I couldn’t say.
There was no sign of Ilsa or the mystery man in the woods.
Derek dropped me off back at the Expo Center. He was going to check in with Detective Locke at the sheriff’s office. Despite telling ourselves that there was nothing to worry about, we were both concerned about the disappearance of all three of our friends.
“Don’t you disappear next.” I leaned through the window and kissed Derek goodbye. “Next thing you know, I’ll be driving back to Ruby Lake alone.”
“Not a chance.” Derek kissed me back, hard. I watched breathlessly as he disappeared from sight.
A man and woman were arguing in the parking lot next to a tow truck. The truck had an old silver Honda sedan hooked to the back of its winch like a bluntnose shark at the end of a fishing line.
The woman doing the yelling was Phoebe Gates. She shook her fist and stamped her feet. The man dressed in baggy green shorts and a tank top despite the cold folded his arms as if he’d heard it all before. He probably had.
The beefy man glanced my way as I moved closer but showed no in
terest in me. Phoebe had her back to me.
“Please,” she begged. “I told them I would pay them at the end of the week.”
“Sorry, lady,” the man sounded weary.
“But you can’t take my car. I need it.”
“Lady.” Beefy Man jerked his thumb at the car and truck. “I’ve already taken your car. You want my advice?” He didn’t wait for her to answer. “Pay your bills on time like everybody else and this won’t happen again.”
Phoebe let loose a string of invectives. The driver shrugged and climbed inside the cab of the tow truck. Phoebe, I had to give her credit for guts, jumped in his path as he started moving.
She leaped just as quickly out of his way when he honked twice and surged forward with what seemed every intention of running her down.
Phoebe stood in the middle of the parking lot cursing as her car was towed off.
I began moving in the opposite direction.
“Amy, wait!”
I stopped and reluctantly turned.
Phoebe slowly approached. Her face was blotchy and her eyes damp. “You don’t have to run away. I saw you.” She frowned. “I suppose you saw everything.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
“Can I buy you a cup of coffee?”
“Well…”
“Hey, I can still afford coffee. Come on.”
We went to the food court and took a table in the middle of the room with our snack.
I waited for Phoebe to speak and it didn’t take long.
“Money’s been tight lately.” She carefully peeled the paper from the side of her oversized muffin with long, painted nails.
“I’m sorry.” I turned my muffin on its head and pinched off a chunk of the bottom. “Things must be extra hard for you right now. On top of everything else, you’ve got the Expo to manage. JJ Fuller’s death must have hit you hard too.”
She narrowed her eyes at me. “Why do you say that?”
“I couldn’t help notice your tears at the memorial this morning.”
“Don’t read anything into it, Amy.” Her voice had changed like water from a tap going hot to cold. “I cry over everything, including spilt milk.”
“Sorry.” I was taken aback. “I didn’t mean to imply anything.”
Phoebe chomped down on her apple-granola muffin and chewed. “I know.” She ripped open two packs of sweetener and dumped them in her coffee. “Frankly, I can’t wait until this Expo is over.”
“Speaking of the Expo, I never really thanked you for thinking of Birds and Bees when the other exhibitor dropped out.”
She waved her hand dismissively. A ring decorated each of her fingers. “Think nothing of it. In fact, it wasn’t really my idea. I mean, when Hikers and Bikers dropped out, we had to have someone to fill in. It doesn’t look good having an empty booth.”
“Why us?”
“I had a waiting list of exhibitors,” Phoebe explained. “I was going to start working my way down it when I got a call from JJ’s office saying it would be a good idea to include you.”
“Why? I mean, I never even met the man. He’s never been to the store. Not that I recall, anyway.” My mind was racing. Why would JJ Fuller suggest that Birds & Bees fill in for an exhibitor who had cancelled at the American Birding Expo? It was hard to believe he had even known I and the store existed prior to the Expo.
Phoebe was frowning now too. “I remember. You didn’t even recognize each other in the hallway.” Her fingernails played a tune on the table. “That is odd.”
“I’ll say.” Silence filled the space between as we both tried to come up with an explanation for JJ’s odd recommendation.
“We’ll never know now.” Phoebe patted my hand. “I’m glad you came. I hope you’re managing to have a good time and making some good connections.”
I didn’t want to make the woman feel any worse than she already did. “It has been wonderful. It’s inspiring. I’ve got lots of new ideas for the business.”
Phoebe drank then ran her tongue over her lower lip. “Such as?”
“We may start offering some birding trips.”
“Tours?”
“One of the exhibitors gave me the idea.”
“It’s a good one. Birding tours are popular. If you decide to give it a go, give me a call. Maybe I can help.”
“Thanks, I’d appreciate that.”
“In fact, if you need any help at all with the business, I’m available.”
“Oh?”
Noting my confusion, Phoebe explained. “Working with the ABE is only a part-time gig. That’s what I do, help bird festivals and tours with their organization, logistics and long-term planning.”
Phoebe stuffed a crumpled, lipstick-stained napkin into her empty cup. “I could probably help you. Maybe scout some possible locations.”
“That’s very kind.” She handed me her personal business card. “I’m not sure how I could afford to pay you.”
“Don’t worry,” Phoebe said, quickly. “We can work something out. Anything is better than going home.”
It was an odd thing to say but I let the remark slide. I placed her card in my purse. “Where is home? Do you live in the area?”
“No. Cleveland. Not that it’s much of a home any longer. Nor do I have a car to get back there with even if I wanted to.”
“No family or friends there?”
“My husband and I divorced and my children aren’t speaking to me.”
“I’m sorry.”
“He was a cheating bastard.”
“I know how you feel. I had a boyfriend once who cheated too.”
“Never trust a man.” Phoebe shoved the remaining half of her muffin in her mouth and forced it down her throat. “You’re single, right?”
I nodded.
“Never married?”
“No.”
“Count your blessings.”
I waited as she swallowed. It was like watching a python swallow a small rabbit. “You mentioned the other day that JJ was going through a divorce.”
“So?”
“I’ve met Lorna. She didn’t mention it.”
Phoebe’s brow lifted in surprise. “Did you ask her?”
“No.”
Her face fell. “I see. Not that it matters now.”
“What do you mean?”
Irving Shipman interrupted. “Excuse me, ladies. I was wondering if I might have a word with you, Phoebe.”
“Is there a problem, Irv?”
“No. I was only wondering if it would be possible to move up the time of my workshop.”
Phoebe stood from the table. “Let’s go check the schedule. It’s in my office.”
I finished my snack and stood to leave, noticing the daypack under the table. It was Phoebe’s. I picked it up. A keycard to the Mill Grove Lodge had spilled out. I slipped it inside and walked to Phoebe’s office to return the pack.
But the office was empty.
Peeking inside the daypack, I spotted a wallet and other personal items. Rather than carry it around or leave it out in the open where anyone could steal it, I slipped it into the bottom drawer of her desk. I’d call her later if I didn’t run into her on the floor to let her know where she could find it.
Returning to the booth, I wrapped my arms around Derek. “Thank goodness you are back.”
“Sorry. I didn’t expect to be gone so long.” Derek pulled off his jacket.
“Did the police have anything to say?”
“Only that they still consider Esther a ‘person of interest’,” Derek said, wrapping his words in finger quotes.
“She’s interesting, all right. I wish I knew where to find Marty.”
“Besides six feet under at Laurel Hill, you mean?”
“Yeah.” I sighed. “I wo
nder what we’d find if we took a shovel and started digging there.”
“Maybe we don’t want to know.”
“You could be right. Who knows what skeletons, figurative or literal, might be buried there.”
“Have you eaten?” I asked. “Can I bring you anything from the food court?”
“I wouldn’t say no to a cold drink and a hot sandwich.”
“You’ve got it. Anything in particular?”
“Surprise me.”
But I was the one who got the surprise as I angled out of the exhibit hall and discovered Floyd and Karl slipping through a door clearly marked Employees Only.
11
“Stop right there, you two.”
Karl and Floyd froze. Karl’s left palm rested against the door.
Karl shot a look at me over his shoulder, then pushed.
“Don’t even think about it,” I warned.
Karl slumped. His arms fell to his sides. Neither Floyd nor Karl had changed out of the clothes they had on the day before. Both were bleary-eyed.
Karl smiled weakly. “Hi, Amy.”
I glared and crossed my arms over my chest. “Don’t Hi, Amy, me. And that’s Chief, to you.”
Floyd gave his friend a troubled look.
“Yes, Chief,” Karl replied meekly. “We were just looking for you.”
“I’ll bet.”
I moved closer and focused on the weakest link. “Talk to me, Floyd.”
“We’re on the case.” Rather than look at me, Floyd seemed to be enjoying looking at his feet. What he found so fascinating about a pair of clunky brown orthopedic penny loafers with half-inch rubber soles, I couldn’t imagine.
“The case, Floyd?” Of all the people in the world I thought I could trust, that I thought I could count on to be stable, to be reliable, to be…normal, Floyd Withers was that person.
Had he gone over to the dark side? Crossed over to the crazy side?
Floyd seemed to be turning to stone. “What case?” I prodded before he reached total transformation and I lost him for good.
“Well…” Floyd chewed his lip and snuck a peek at Karl.
“May as well tell her.” Karl plucked a half-smoked cigar from inside his windbreaker and popped it in his mouth.