“No, Miss Mildred,” Neely Kate said. “We’re just worried about you.”
“Well, you’ve got no reason to be. Now get!”
“But Miss Mildred,” Neely Kate said, gesturing to the spread of subpar baked goods on the table. “You’re clearly confused.”
“I’m not confused. Now get out, or I’m gonna call—”
Suddenly, Muffy strained against the leash and started barking at the trees. I bent down and scooped her up, and she instantly stopped barking.
“Go away, you wild dog!” Miss Mildred shouted, waving her arm in wild arcs. “You’re gonna scare him away!”
I was about to ask who when I saw a flash of green in the trees and heard a voice say, “Give me more cake.”
I shot a glance at Neely Kate, whose whole face had lit up. “You found him, Miss Mildred!”
The parrot flew out of the trees and landed on the back of one of the patio chairs. “Cake is good.”
“I wasn’t sure which kind you liked,” Miss Mildred said, clasping her hands in front of her as she talked to the bird. “I got chocolate and vanilla cupcakes, and red velvet and carrot cakes.”
“Carrots!” the bird said.
“I knew you liked the carrot cake I had out, so that’s why I got you another one.”
“He likes carrots,” I said.
Miss Mildred spun at the waist to face me. “How would you know?”
“His owner hired Kermit Cooper to find him. He belongs to Mr. Whipple a few blocks over.”
“Kermit the Hermit?” Miss Mildred asked. “Then what are you two doin’ here? Being nosy?”
I shook my head. “We were worried about you. But now we know why you were buying all that cake.” Well, sort of. It could hardly be a healthy diet for a parrot.
“We’re helpin’ Kermit,” Neely Kate said. “He’s teaching us how to be P.I.s, and our first case is finding Squawker.”
“Squawker!” the bird said.
Miss Mildred’s face fell.
“Why are you feedin’ him all those cakes?” Neely Kate asked.
“That’s none of your daggum business.” But she looked like she was about to cry.
“How long has Squawker been hangin’ out here?” I asked.
She frowned. “Since Sunday afternoon. I’d set out my carrot cake to cool so I could frost it for the church dinner, and I found that parrot eatin’ it. I was hotter than a hornet at first, but then he started talkin’ and thankin’ me for the cake. I couldn’t get mad at a bird with such good manners. So I fed him the rest of the cake, and he stuck around.”
“And the cupcakes from yesterday,” I said.
“They were goin’ to waste anyway,” she said defensively.
“You were gonna keep him,” Neely Kate said.
“Not for a pet,” Miss Mildred grumped. “I was keepin’ him outside. He was entertaining.” She waved her hand. “He talks.”
“Someone broke into Mr. Whipple’s home last Thursday night,” I said. “And Squawker got loose in the mess. Mr. Whipple hasn’t seen him since. He really misses him. We need to bring him home.”
“Well . . . there ain’t nobody stoppin’ ya.” She gave the bird a longing look, then turned around and went in the house.
“Bye,” the parrot squawked.
“How do we catch a parrot?” I asked.
“Well, if Alan Jackson were here—”
“We want the parrot alive, Neely Kate.”
“Good point.”
“Let’s call Mr. Whipple.”
Neely Kate tried his number but got no answer. In the meantime, Squawker watched us like we were the Fenton County High School Saturday matinee performance of Our Town—slightly interested but mostly bored.
“Now what?” I asked.
Neely Kate gave me a grimace. “I know someone else we can call.”
I released a long groan. “You call him.”
“It’s gonna be weird if I do it instead of you.”
I dug my phone out of my pocket, thankful my cloud had transferred all my numbers to my new phone, and called Levi’s cell phone.
“Rose!” he said, sounding pleased. “I thought you’d text me the details of dinner tomorrow night.”
“Actually, that’s not what I’m callin’ about. It’s more work-related. Maybe I should have called the office.”
“Don’t be silly. Is Muffy okay?”
“This call’s about Squawker. Neely Kate and I found him.”
“Really? That’s great . . . but I take it there’s a problem.”
“Hopefully not a big one. We don’t know how to catch him. We called Mr. Whipple, but he’s not home.”
“Do you have a bird cage to put him in?”
“No.”
“Then you might be better off waiting until Mr. Whipple gets home. If you let him loose in your truck, he might hurt himself.”
“But if we leave him here, won’t he fly off?” That was a stupid question. Squawker was hopping around on the table, pecking at the cakes. “Say . . . I suspect it’s bad for parrots to have cake.”
“You’re not feeding him cake, are you?”
“No,” I said, grabbing a cupcake out of Squawker’s reach.
“Parrots don’t fly all that much. If he’s flown recently, he’ll probably just sit there awhile. Your best bet is to wait for Mr. Whipple. He’d probably be the best draw. But if you think Squawker’s in danger, or you’re worried about him flying away, you can lure him with some type of food he likes.”
“Carrots.”
“Yep. That will work.”
“Thanks, Levi.”
“Please feel free to call me anytime, Rose.”
I hung up and relayed what he’d told me, but Neely Kate made a face. “We don’t have time to sit around waiting for Mr. Whipple to show up.”
“It sounds like he’s been in Miss Mildred’s backyard since Sunday afternoon. We could probably leave him here and ask Miss Mildred to keep an eye on him.”
She frowned. “I’d rather try to catch him. We could take him to Mr. Whipple’s house and put him in the aviary in the back.”
I didn’t think it was a great idea, but now that we’d found the parrot, I was hesitant to walk away.
Neely Kate knocked on the back door and asked Miss Mildred for a carrot while I stood several feet from the bird.
“Hi, Squawker. Are you missing your . . .” What did he call Mr. Whipple? “. . . Daddy?”
“Daddy go bye-bye.”
Since parrots merely “parroted” back what they heard, that meant Mr. Whipple likely said that to him whenever he left the house. “Your daddy is missing you.”
“Go bye-bye, Scooter.”
I blinked hard, sure I must have heard him wrong.
Neely Kate emerged from the back door with a carrot in her hand.
“Neely Kate,” I said in a tight voice. “Listen to this.”
“Squawker. Who went bye-bye?” I asked.
The bird shifted his weight on the back of the chair and remained quiet.
“Do you miss your daddy?” I repeated.
“Go bye-bye, Scooter.”
Neely Kate’s mouth fell open. “What?”
“Scooter’s not a very common name,” I said, getting excited.
Neely Kate’s eyes rounded, but then she shook her head. “I’m not sure that helps. He’s been loose for days. He could have heard it anywhere.”
“True, but what if that’s why someone broke in? To keep Squawker from spreading his secrets?” I hurried to Miss Mildred’s back door and knocked.
She opened the door, shooting me an angry look. “What are you still doin’ here?”
“Have you heard Squawker talk much since he showed up?”
She looked surprised, then glared at me. “Maybe.”
“Did he say anything out of the ordinary?”
“No. Other than he talked a lot about a scooter.”
Neely Kate rushed up behind me. “What did he say?”
Miss Mildred was clearly attached to him.
“Anything else?” Neely Kate asked.
“Something profane and about blood.”
I gasped and turned to Neely Kate. Mr. Whipple had mentioned that earlier, but he’d written it off as something the parrot had heard on a TV show . . . Except what if it wasn’t?
“This is important,” Neely Kate said slowly. “We need to know exactly what he said.”
“He said something like . . .” Her eyes narrowed. “Shut up, you assholes, and clean up the blood.”
Chapter 18
We needed to talk to Mr. Whipple again. And soon. The phrase Squawker had been repeating was the same one the older man remembered from Wednesday night—and it matched Anita’s memories too. If it was about Scooter’s blood, it didn’t bode well for his safety.
We decided to leave the parrot in Miss Mildred’s backyard until we could reach Mr. Whipple—who unfortunately didn’t have an answering machine. Miss Mildred agreed to keep an eye on him as long as we gave her part of the reward money.
“We don’t know if we’re even gettin’ reward money,” I said as we got back into the truck. “Any money goes to Kermit, and I doubt he’s payin’ us. I can’t believe you agreed to share it.”
“Exactly,” Neely Kate said, strapping in her seatbelt. “If we get nothin’, then she gets thirty percent of it.”
“She’s gonna be steamed.”
She gave me a smug look. “I think I know something she’ll like better than a reward.”
I couldn’t imagine what that could be, and she refused to tell me.
We headed out to the farm next, and Neely Kate sent a text when she thought I wasn’t looking. Probably to Jed.
“Well, we need to talk to Mr. Whipple and Jeanne,” I said, “but we can’t reach him, and we have no clue when she’s off work.”
“Look on the bright side,” she said, “we’ll have time to talk to Witt. And grab some lunch.” She turned in her seat, wearing a satisfied grin. “Rose, we solved our first official P.I. intern case!”
“Well . . .” I said. “We found Squawker, but we still haven’t handed him over to Mr. Whipple.”
“Don’t jinx it,” she said. “Next time we look for a bird, let’s bring a cage.”
“Let’s hope there isn’t a next time.”
Muffy was glad to get home after her eventful morning, and after the Walmart incident, Neely Kate and I agreed to leave her home the next time we headed out.
After letting Muffy roam and sniff around for a few minutes, we headed inside. I started a pot of coffee, then went upstairs to find my gun and holster.
I’d tucked them in a drawer with my yoga pants and leggings several months ago. The self-defense and shooting lessons Jed had given us a few weeks ago hadn’t been enough. I wasn’t close to being ready to defend myself.
I heard a car coming down the drive from the county road to the house, and I quickly loaded my gun with the clip and hurried down the hall to Neely Kate’s room, which overlooked the front yard. My farmhouse had a great view of any cars driving in, but it was also secluded and hidden from the county road by a thick hedge of trees. Considering I might have someone after me, being on guard seemed like a good idea.
“Neely Kate,” I called out from her doorway. “We’ve got company.”
“I know. It’s Witt.”
Witt? That must have been who she was texting on the way home.
The smell of bacon drifted up to me. Had she bribed him with breakfast? Whatever it took.
I went back to my room to get more clips, strapped on the holster, then grabbed a backpack out of my closet. For all the supplies I wanted to carry, a Walmart purse wasn’t going to cut it.
I came down the stairs and found Witt sitting at the kitchen table with a coffee cup in his hand. The table was already set for breakfast.
Witt turned his gaze toward me with half-open eyes. “I hear you have a job for me.”
Nothing like cutting to the chase.
I dropped my backpack on the floor and grabbed a cup of coffee, wondering how long it would take to get used to wearing a gun on my thigh. “I hear you’re lookin’ for one.”
He lifted his shoulder into a half-shrug, then took a sip from his mug.
I sat down across from him, realizing Witt looked pretty rough, like he’d been on an all-night bender. “How’re you doin’, Witt?”
“I’ve been better.” He set his cup down. “You got some kind of pity job for me at the landscaping business?”
I sat up a bit in surprise. “No. I hadn’t even considered it.”
His shoulders lost some of their stiffness. “Good. I hate digging holes.”
Neely Kate seemed to freeze in front of the stove at that but quickly resumed her work as if nothing had happened. She’d finished with the bacon and started in on some pancakes.
I rested my forearm on the table. “Look. I know you want to start your own business, so this is just a temporary thing that will help you earn some money in the meantime. It might not take more than a couple of days.”
“I’m listening.”
“I know you taught Neely Kate how to shoot and defend herself, but have you ever worked as a bodyguard?”
He started laughing. “Is this for real?”
“Totally for real.”
“No, but it seems easy enough.”
“Someone tried to kidnap me last night.”
His eyes finally opened all the way.
Neely Kate snorted. “Tried? They succeeded in the attempt. You just got away.”
“Who was it?” Witt asked, concern filling his eyes.
“I’m not sure.” I shook my head. “I mean, I know the name of one of the men, but I’m not sure why he did it, although I have strong suspicions.”
“You’re wanting me to find out?” he asked, sounding confused.
“No. Neely Kate and I are figuring out that part. We just need you around to help protect us.”
He laughed again. “Neely Kate can take care of herself and you to boot. You don’t need me.”
“Neely Kate’s not always with me,” I said, feeling frustrated. He was right. Neely Kate could likely defend herself and me. But me . . . I’d gotten out of a few scrapes, but I sure as Pete didn’t feel comfortable walking around alone, knowing that someone might try to snatch me at any moment. I needed to change that, but I wasn’t going to figure it out over the next hour or so.
“So I would be your bodyguard?” He took a sip of coffee. “I thought that was Jed Carlisle’s job.”
“Jed works for Skeeter Malcolm,” I said, figuring Witt wouldn’t know about the recent change in his employment status. “And I’m trying to distance myself from him.”
“Why? Malcolm’s your real protection,” Witt said. He turned serious and set his cup on the table. “After you and Neely Kate found that necklace, word’s gotten out that you’re the Lady in Black. You know that, right?”
“I’m quickly discovering it,” I said.
“But there’s been some confusion about how you sided with Reynolds. It’s creating a . . . stir.”
“What does that mean?”
He pushed out a breath and leaned closer. “It means people aren’t sure which side you’re really on.”
“They think I’m on Buck Reynolds’ side?”
“No. Some of them think you’re neutral.”
I cast a glance back to Neely Kate, but she was focused on turning the bacon.
“What I’m about to tell you is confidential,” I said to Witt. “It can’t leave this room.”
He stuck out his hand toward me, pinky finger extended. “I pinky swear.”
“Oh,” Neely Kate said from behind me. “That’s the ultimate Rivers swear. It’s how you know he means it.”
I wasn’t above a pinky swear. It sure beat spitting in each other’s hands and shaking.
I hooked my pinky finger with his. “Consider anything you hear from me or Neely Kate having to do with Lady, or Skeeter Malcolm, or anything to do with the crime world confidential.”
He shook our hooked fingers. “Deal.”
We dropped our hands, and I said, “The people who took Scooter tried to take me too.”
“They got you,” Neely Kate said again. “You just got away.”
Witt held my gaze. “So you’re lookin’ at someone who has a grudge against Skeeter.”
Witt seemed like a jovial, somewhat lazy kind of guy, but when I looked in his eyes, I could see it was a façade. He wanted people to underestimate him. I didn’t need to read between the lines for him.
“We figured as much,” I said.
“Not professional—although it might be that too—I’m talkin’ personal. He wants to take Skeeter Malcolm out at the knees. He wants him to hurt. The logical person is Buck Reynolds or Kip Wagner. Maybe both. But you know that.”
“Well, it’s not Buck. He hired me to find Scooter.” I felt like a traitor telling Witt when I still hadn’t confirmed what I was up to with James or Jed, but he needed to know everything if he was going to help us. Besides, he’d just pinky sworn to keep my secrets.
Based on the look on Witt’s face, I’d finally managed to catch him by surprise. “Maybe he’s tryin’ to throw Malcolm off.”
“Buck Reynolds and his guys busted in and saved me from the kidnappers. The whole thing’s suspicious, but I’m going to come out right now and tell you they didn’t snatch Scooter. James—”
“James?”
Crap.
His eyes bugged out. “You call Skeeter Malcolm James? Does Buck Reynolds know that?”
“He does now.”
He made a face and leaned back in his chair. “That’s not good, Rose.”
“Tell me about it.”
“I’m confused. Are you and Malcolm a thing?”
“No,” I said as firmly as I could muster. “We are not a thing. We became friends when I worked with him last winter.”
The look in Witt’s eyes suggested he wasn’t convinced. “We need to do damage control. If you’re really not with Malcolm, we have to get the word out fast, or you won’t just be a target for whoever kidnapped you.”
For the Birds: Rose Gardner Investigations #2 (Rose Gardner Investigatons) Page 19