The rest of the meeting was entirely comprised of what equated to be a sermon from Myrtle. And if I hadn’t already been convinced, Branson’s descriptor of the group as Myrtle and her disciples, was proven accurate. She spoke with as much fervor about conservation, ending poaching, and being on guard for the signs of it in and around Estes and the national park, as any sermon of fire and brimstone I’d ever witnessed, not that I’d heard that many.
As she spoke, I studied the twelve members of the group, trying to understand why they were there. I couldn’t see the appeal, they seemed like they had signed up to be led by a dictator, one who liked to hear herself speak. Henry’s words came back to me from two nights before—claiming that Myrtle was power-hungry. From what little I’d seen, I couldn’t disagree with him, despite her generosity toward Katie. But that made it even more confusing. Henry clearly didn’t like what was going on in the group. I thought his annoyance had mainly been directed at Myrtle, but it seemed to be at nearly everyone in the club. So why be a member at all?
From what I knew about Paulie, it made sense, sad as it was. He was hard to be around and awkward to an extreme. As a result, he was desperate for relationships. I wasn’t surprised he would be willing to put up with nearly anything to try to fill that void. But the rest, I couldn’t imagine. Carl was a little odd to be sure, but he and Anna were the center of the gossip chain in Estes Park. He wasn’t lacking for friendships. I didn’t know any of the other members personally, maybe most of them were lonely like Paulie, or maybe they were genuinely passionate about birds. I supposed they would have to be to sit through something like this on a weekly basis.
Personally, I couldn’t fathom it. Even if the group was about corgis, or specifically about Watson, for crying out loud, I would never subject myself to such an experience more than once.
Myrtle must have some odd draw or power I couldn’t see. Something more than badges about birds was going on here. Surely.
The meeting ended, and everyone gathered around the pastries, bragging about Katie’s skills, with equal measure of her bird knowledge. Several of them came up to me to give Watson attention. I was impressed with his begrudging willingness to allow all the strangers to fawn over him. My poor little guy was getting used to it after the few days at the bookshop. When there was a break in the attention, Henry made his way over to us. I might have been willing to play nice on the opening night of the Cozy Corgi, but I wasn’t going to do that again, and I prepared to tell him so. To my surprise, he grimaced as he approached, and he gave an apologetic shrug. “I’m sorry, Miss Page. Sometimes my temper gets the better of me. I’m so used to people cheating in order to get badges that I jump to conclusions.”
I looked around expecting to see some other member over his shoulder having encouraged him to apologize, like a mother would to a child. There was no one. “Thank you, Henry. I appreciate it. And I can promise you that neither Katie nor I cheated. Katie’s simply especially fond of trivia, of any variety. Give her five minutes on any topic, and she’ll become an expert it seems. It’s a skill I can assure you I don’t have.”
Henry nodded and seemed unsure what to say. Then he appeared to steel himself and met my gaze. “If the rumors are true, you have a good relationship with Sergeant Wexler, is that right?”
I could tell we were heading into dangerous territory. “I’m new in town, so I’m getting to know a lot of people at the moment. But Bran—Sergeant Wexler and I have a lot in common. My father was a policeman.”
He nodded like that made sense. “That’s great. Maybe you can get him to listen to us sometimes. He refuses to follow up on any leads we offer about people we know are poaching.”
It took all my willpower to refrain from pointing out that he’d just accused Katie and me of cheating at a trivia game. It seemed a little much to expect a policeman or anyone else to give him much credence. “If that’s happening, it’s awful. Maybe it’s something Leo Lopez can help you with.” Even as I said it, I felt guilty for throwing Leo under the bus. “Do you know him? He’s a park ranger.”
“Yes, he’s one of the good guys. He doesn’t always take us seriously either, but more than anyone else.” His eyes lit. “In fact, he’s leading us on a moonlight snowshoe next week in hopes of spotting some owls. You should attend.”
I couldn’t imagine anything I would rather do less than attend another meeting of the Feathered Friends Brigade. “I doubt that will work out. Having opened the bookshop, I’m afraid every ounce of my time is spoken for.”
Henry looked disappointed, though I couldn’t imagine why. “Well, if you change your mind, bring Katie along. I’m sure Myrtle will allow you to attend as long as she’s there. But don’t bring your dog.” He cast a disapproving glance at Watson. “Although I suppose I shouldn’t tell you to bring Katie. Clearly Myrtle would like nothing more than to kick me out and put her in.”
Even though I knew it was rude, I couldn’t keep from asking. “Henry, I hope you don’t mind me saying so, but you seem rather miserable here and as if you don’t like a lot of the people in the club.”
He shrugged.
I took that as an agreement. “Then why attend?”
Some of the heat returned to his voice, though I couldn’t tell if it was anger or merely passion. “Despite what others might think, the Feathered Friends Brigade is not about the badges, taking trips to see fancy birds, or making friends. It’s about protecting nature, about rescuing species of birds on the edge of extinction, about raising money for conservation. About making the world a better place.” He leaned closer, his voice barely more than a whisper. “And there is a saying about keeping your friends close and your enemies closer. That’s exactly what I’m doing. And I will get the Feathered Friends Brigade back on track and weed out those who corrupt what it stands for. Even if I have to take down Myrtle to do it.” He nodded and pointed a finger in my face, almost hitting my nose. “Mark my words, I’m going to expose the people in this club for exactly what they are, the cheaters, those who don’t care about the birds at all, and even the poachers among us.”
Over the next week, two things became clear.
The most important was that Katie and I needed to hire at least one person apiece. Even though the winter was the slow season, neither of us could keep up. Granted, I had it easier than Katie. At most, I simply needed to step into the restroom and leave customers unattended for a few moments. She had to get up at four in the morning to begin baking and then serve customers all day. She was wearing herself out.
The other thing was that attending the Feathered Friends Brigade had stoked Katie’s competitive side. Between discussing new ideas for recipes and attempting to use inspiration from the literary themes in the bookshop, Katie talked incessantly of wanting a vest filled with trivia badges. I wasn’t entirely certain if the sleep-deprived bags under Katie’s eyes were due to how hard she was working at the bakery or how long she spent on Google before going to bed.
Katie’s new obsession, combined with a text invitation from Leo, had me strapping on snowshoes for the first time in my life. Under the moonlight, as snow drifted down, I couldn’t help but envy Watson his coziness and warmth back home. He’d made it very clear as I left him behind that he was irritated, but little did he know he was getting the better end of the bargain.
Leo led the fifteen of us through the moonlit forest over a relatively flat and easy trail that led to Bear Lake before pausing at the water’s edge to turn and address the group in a low voice that carried without disrupting the serenity. “I know I don’t have to tell any of you this, but as we split up, stay with your buddy, and remember to be as still as possible. The chances of spotting any nocturnal birds while we’re tromping around is low, but especially so if we’re talking.”
I let his words fade away, distracted as a cloud moved above and moonlight washed over his features. He made quite the picture in his park ranger uniform, bomber jacket, and fleece hat and gloves, standing in front of the iced-over
lake, snow-covered mountains at his back, and winter forest surrounding him. He looked utterly comfortable and totally capable. I’d been a little surprised at his text, especially after the way I’d abandoned him on the opening night of the Cozy Corgi. Part of me had wondered if Katie had put him up to it—one more nail in the coffin to get me to attend. If she had, it worked. His invitation had been the deciding factor.
“Again, I know none of you need to hear this, but I’ll say it anyway. No flash photography. It disturbs the wildlife. And I know everyone’s hoping to see a Mexican Spotted Owl, but as you know, they tend to stay in the southern parts of the Rocky Mountain National Forest. Only occasionally will they wander this far north.”
That particular species had been the reason Leo and I had first met, when I’d found a frozen owl in the deep-freeze of the shop. It ended up being the proof Leo had needed that the previous owner had been involved in poaching. Although, considering he was already dead, it was too little, too late.
Leo tapped his watch. “We will meet back here in an hour. Reception at this location is decent, and each of you has my cell number. Call me if there’s any problem. If all else fails, shout.” He flashed a brilliant grin. “Good luck!”
The members of the Feathered Friends Brigade dispersed, all nearly silent. I supposed that was a prerequisite for adequate bird-watching. Leo nodded at Myrtle as he passed her and headed to Katie and me. “How are you two doing? Neither of you have snowshoed before, correct?”
“It’s not too bad.” Katie shrugged. “I did some research about snowshoeing last night and found a website that suggested different stretches to help get ready. I’m feeling pretty good.”
I threw my arm around her shoulders and gave her a quick squeeze. “Of course you did.”
Leo chuckled but then turned his attention to me. “And you? I imagine these mountain winters are hard to get used to.”
“I can’t say I’m used to the elevation yet or hiking in the middle of the night through snow, but as far as the cold, it’s not nearly as intense as Kansas City.”
“Good. I’m glad you’re adjusting.” He looked a little nervous. I knew how he felt. We’d already resorted to talking about the weather. “Do you two want to go off and search the woods on your own, or would you like me to accompany you?”
Before Katie or I could respond, Henry hurried over and grabbed Leo by the arm, and though he attempted to whisper, temper was clear in his tone, and his words certainly carried. “I’m glad I caught you without the others around. I was wrong before. About Roxanne.” He cast a glance at Katie. “She was the trivia queen, at least before you showed up.” Without waiting for a response, he turned back to Leo. “She isn’t the poacher. It’s Owen. I’m sure of it this time.”
“Okay, Henry.” Though Leo sighed, his tone was patient. “Let’s do like we have every time before. This isn’t the place for it. Give me a call tomorrow, and I’ll listen to whatever proof you think you have.”
“Think I have?” Henry’s whisper turned to a hiss. “Don’t you start acting like that cop. Already making up your mind about me before you’ve even heard what I have to say. I don’t think, Leo. I know.” He gave Leo’s arm a shake. “And I know that Owen is the poacher.”
Proving she was as adept at moving silently as a park ranger, Myrtle suddenly joined our group, fury visible in her eyes, despite the night shadows. “Enough of this, Henry. You’ve got to quit accusing people in the group of poaching. We are all on the same side. Every one of us is committed to protecting our birds. All of us. I’m not going to continue to have this conversation with you.”
“Oh yes, Myrtle, queen of us all.” All attempt at whispering left Henry’s voice. “You like to pretend you’re all high and mighty, so perfect. But you know about the cheating that goes on. And yet you continue to give badge after badge after badge. While those of us who actually play by the rules get nothing. Like anyone can trust anything you say.”
“How dare you speak that way about Myrtle.” During the exchange, I’d not noticed Silas at Myrtle’s side. And though he did whisper, there was no wavering in his voice. “Do you know how much this woman has done for conservation, how much money she’s raised? Where would any of us be without her? How can you even suggest that—”
Myrtle raised her hand, quickly touching his arm. “Thank you, Silas, but I can defend myself.” She addressed Henry, and for once there was no birdlike squawk to her voice. It was cold, hard. “I’m done with warnings, Henry. You’re done. You’re out of the group. As soon as we get back tonight, hand in your vest. Your membership is suspended.”
Henry had murder in his eyes. “Of course, Myrtle. Three weeks after membership fees are collected. After you make clear that ten grand is nonrefundable, now you kick me out? You’ve been looking for a reason.” He laughed as he ripped off his vest and threw it at Myrtle’s face. “You are a piece of work. And I’ll bring you down. I promise you that.”
Silas took a step toward him, but Myrtle shot out her arm once more, stopping him.
Henry whirled and headed into the forest.
Leo reached for him. “Henry, calm down. It’s not safe to go out there by yourself right now.”
“I’m as adept in these woods as you are.” Henry shook him off. “And you’re as bad as she is. Already making up your mind that you know better than me. Mark my words. Owen is the poacher. I’ll prove it.”
As Henry stormed off, Leo started to follow him, but Myrtle stopped him. “Let him go. Henry is wrong about many things, but he can take care of himself. And from the outbursts I’ve already seen from him, following will make things worse. For both of you.”
Leo hesitated, glanced down at the solitary trail in the snow that led to where Henry headed, then gave a slow nod. “You’re probably right.”
Without any more concern in her tone, Myrtle turned and addressed Katie. “There’s an opening in the Feathered Friends Brigade. It’s yours if you want it.”
“I… um….” Katie looked at Henry’s footprints, then back at Myrtle. “Um… membership is ten thousand dollars?”
“Yes.” Myrtle nodded. “Annually, of course.”
“Oh, yes, naturally.” Katie licked her lips. “May I… let you know?”
“Certainly, dear.” Myrtle gestured toward the forest. “I’m going to attempt to find my first Mexican Spotted Owl this evening. Wish me luck.” She and Silas headed out.
Once the pair was out of earshot, Katie turned to face Leo and me, her expression aghast as she met my gaze and then Leo’s. “Ten thousand dollars? A year! As if that makes any difference. It wouldn’t matter if it were that much for the rest of the century. Who has that kind of money?”
“Well, it is Estes Park. Half of the residents are stinking rich, and the other half of us barely scrape by.” Leo shrugged. “However, in this case, I’m thankful for the fee. Every dime of it goes toward preventing poaching. And not just for birds.”
That price tag was rather astounding and unexpected. And while I didn’t fall into the barely scraping by category, I couldn’t imagine paying ten thousand dollars to be in any kind of club, even if the proceeds did go to a worthy cause.
“Well, that part is good, I suppose.” Katie grinned at me as she shook her head. “I no longer want a vest filled with bird trivia badges.” She slipped her arm through Leo’s. “Lead on, Smokey Bear.”
Leo let out a guffaw, and somehow managed to still stay quiet. “New nickname?”
“Not overly original as far as names for park rangers go, I know. But whatever.” Katie linked her other arm through mine. “Come on. If we have to be out in this godforsaken cold without the hope of getting any badges, the least we can do is enjoy a private tour. Make it interesting, Smokey.”
Leo didn’t attempt to make it overly interesting. He didn’t need to. He filled in some quiet facts here and there, but mostly, he let Mother Nature speak for herself. He led us through the trees, twenty yards or so away from where we’d been, before h
e stopped and smiled at us. “Now, listen. Don’t move anything besides your head. Listen and watch.”
Katie giggled but settled in quickly enough.
After a minute or so, I nearly forgot the two of them were there. I’d visited Estes Park since I was a kid, seeing my mom’s family a couple of times a year. But somehow, I’d forgotten exactly what the Colorado mountains were like. Even with the brightness of the full moon, with the clarity of the air and sky, the swirls of the starry galaxies above our heads twinkled down upon us, mystical against the dark silhouettes of the trees and the craggy peaks that surrounded us.
In the silence, the night came alive. A soft wind swept cold fingers across my cheek and dislodged some snow that had piled up on the leafless branch of an aspen, causing it to tumble down like a waterfall. The crackle of underbrush sounded close to my feet, though I couldn’t see anything, not even the trembling of the undergrowth.
My eyes continued to adjust, helped along by the reflection of the moon over the snow, allowing me to see farther through the dense forest, illuminating boulders scattered among the trees.
A louder rustling sounded to our right. I turned to look, expecting to see one of the members of the Feathered Friends Brigade. Instead a bull elk stared at me from less than thirty feet away, its seemingly limitless pointed antlers forming a crown above its head. On its own, the sight wasn’t that unusual. The elk in Estes Park were nearly as tame as dogs, often wandering through the main streets. But as glorious as that was, it didn’t compare to seeing the majestic creature in its kingdom, undisturbed by other people. It huffed a steaming breath and then moved on, only then did I notice another five or six farther back in the trees.
Katie let out a quiet contented sigh. I agreed wholeheartedly.
I’d traded my old life for one filled with books, family, and magic. I hadn’t expected that last one.
A high-pitched scream cut through the night, breaking the spell. The heads of every elk straightened, and then as one, they disappeared into the trees.
Bickering Birds Page 4