My heart began to pound, and for an insane moment, I glanced at the rearview, expecting to see headlights trailing me. I wasn’t in a horror movie, however. And unless Silas had a ton of forethought, he hadn’t put a tracker on my car or my phone. “Yes, actually.” I swallowed, then barged ahead. “I don’t know what you used for motivation, but I do know that you convinced Benjamin to be Myrtle’s alibi.”
There were several heartbeats of silence, and when Silas spoke again, some of the warmth had faded, but he didn’t sound necessarily angry. “It seems money talks only so far to Benjamin. I probably shouldn’t have put such a large task in the hands of a man so young and inexperienced.” He chuckled. “No offense to your grilling tactics, I’m sure.”
I wasn’t certain if I should be worried that he’d admitted it so easily or if it implied Myrtle truly was innocent.
Silas didn’t wait. “I don’t know if this is a conversation that’s best over the phone. How about we meet in person? We’re neighbors, after all. Would you like to come to my house, or should I come to yours?”
I waited for the punch line. There didn’t seem to be one coming. “Silas, you might be the nicest man in the world. I don’t know. But I promise you I’m not such a fool that I would go to someone’s house, in the dark, to talk about this.”
“Bring someone. I promise you there’s no malintent on my end.” The warmth was back, and he almost sounded nonchalant. Which only proved he was very much in control. “Bring several someones if you want. My singular request is that they not be law enforcement. I don’t have any intention of admitting to them that I encouraged Benjamin to fake his alibi for Myrtle. And I believe after you hear me out, you’ll understand why.”
“And why can’t we do this on the phone?” As if answering my own question, I drove through a thick grove of trees and the line went static for several moments.
Once the connection cleared, Silas continued speaking in his calm voice. “Deception is easy over the phone, Fred. If I’m going to convince you to not tell the police about my arrangement with Benjamin, I need you to believe me. And if I truly meant you any harm, I wouldn’t have admitted it over the phone. You could drive straight to the police right now and fill them in, which is your right. But I hope that you won’t.”
He had a point, although that point could easily be simply to make me more willing to fall into his trap. I debated mentally, and as if he could hear me thinking, Silas didn’t speak, giving me time to process.
I didn’t think I had a ton of weaknesses, not anymore. Sure, my temper got the best of me every so often, and I could get flustered at times. And having a bakery right above my head was proving to be as problematic as I thought it would be for my diet. But hands down, my biggest fault was one of my biggest strengths. And even if I knew the saying curiosity killed the cat, I needed to have my fix. That curiosity craved to be satiated. “Fine.”
As expected, Watson went positively wild when we pulled up to Leo’s apartment. Leo was waiting in the parking lot. During my brief phone call with him, I requested for us to use his Jeep, less chance of accidentally running into Branson or Susan if they were scouring the area for me. Which, judging from the calls I was still getting from Branson, I imagined they were.
Leo held the door open for me as I scooped Watson into the Jeep, and then he hurried around to the driver’s side and hopped in. In another second or so, we left the apartment complex and were heading toward my side of town.
“Gotta say, this is fun.” Leo grinned his handsome smile at me as he looked away from the road for a second, childlike pleasure written across his features. “I feel like I’m in a Hardy Boys book.”
I couldn’t help but smile back, partly because I knew exactly the thrill shooting through him. “Actually, I think you’re in a Nancy Drew book at the moment.”
“Works for me.” He tilted his head but didn’t look back this time, keeping his gaze focused on the road. “Although, I’m pretty sure they did a few crossovers where the Hardy Boys teamed up with Nancy Drew. They were double digests, twice as long as the normal ones.”
I gaped at him. “You read the Hardy Boys and Nancy Drew? You like mysteries?”
“Of course I did! And who doesn’t like mysteries?”
And that answer was all the confirmation I needed to know I’d made the right choice. Not that I’d questioned that choice to begin with. First and foremost, no matter how curious I was, I wasn’t going to show up at Silas’s house on my own. Nor was I going to call Branson. And not just because Silas had asked me not to. Leo had a relationship with Silas and all the members of the Feathered Friends Brigade. He would put Silas—hell, and me—at ease. And he’d also be better able to tell if Silas was being honest, since he had past experiences with him.
We weaved our way around the new developments of mini-mansions at the base of the mountain, nestled against the forest that held my cabin. The houses were beautiful and elaborate. And they felt completely out of place in Estes Park, like a portion of the rich suburbs had been plopped down among the pines.
We found the house number Silas had given me and Leo let out a whistle as we pulled into the driveway. “I knew the man had money, but he’s got the biggest house on the block.”
“You’d think with all that money, he could’ve afforded to build a custom cabin or something, as opposed to buying in Stepford.”
“I knew I liked you.” Leo flashed a smile but was smart enough to make it brief, then exited the Jeep.
I followed suit, grasping Watson’s leash after I lowered him to the concrete.
Silas met us at the door before we even needed to ring the bell. “Well, well, my favorite ranger, Leo Lopez.” He stuck out his hand, and the two men exchanged a handshake. He followed by giving me the same gesture. “Smart choice, Fred. Not alone, and someone that I know and trust. No wonder I’ve heard you’re quite the detective.”
My gut had been telling me lots of things the past several days, but it didn’t help me out a lick with Silas’s direct approach. I couldn’t tell if he was letting me know he was aware of what I was doing to put me at ease or hint that he was several steps ahead.
The interior of Silas’s house was as much of a mansion as the outside. He led us through a massive entrance with a sparkling chandelier hanging from a vaulted ceiling and past a formal dining room. Watson found some scent he loved on the floor in front of a closet door and required a tug on his leash to follow us. We continued into a kitchen-living room combo as big as my entire cabin. And like the housing development didn’t fit the aesthetic of my little mountain town, neither did the interior of Silas’s house. It reminded me of some of the home tours I’d taken in the Kansas City Plaza. Everything was black, cream, and tan, and decorated with glass and steel. Fine, I supposed. I’d been impressed during the home tour, at least. It all seemed luxurious and modern. But it felt wrong here, somehow. Like it expected the mountains to adjust to it instead of trying to blend in to the rugged wilderness mere feet away.
Leo grimaced or winced here and there, barely noticeable, but he was clearly having a similar response. That changed when we entered the large living room. He sucked in a quiet breath and walked over to a wall that could’ve been in a museum, filled with golden-framed canvases, each displaying a colorful bird. “These are spectacular. I feel like I’m stepping into a National Geographic.” He let out a self-conscious laugh. “If the National Geographic was on Fifth Avenue.”
“Thank you.” Silas crossed the room and stood beside Leo, admiring the art as well. “It combines my two great loves, ornithology and photography.” He cast a glance my way. “I’ve spent a small fortune on photography equipment. Benjamin is very accommodating.” He chuckled. “More than a small fortune, I suppose.”
I was surprised at the sudden mention of Benjamin—it looked like we were starting. I’d wondered if Silas would be as direct in person as he had been over the phone. It seemed so. “Is that why Benjamin was willing to lie when you asked him
to? Because you’re such a great customer?”
Leo flashed me a wide-eyed look, clearly asking what I was thinking taking such a direct approach.
For Silas’s part, he didn’t even flinch. “No. Although, I’m sure that partly came into play for him. But, no. I paid Benjamin to say that he was with Myrtle. That time it had nothing to do with photography or cameras, or birds, for that matter.” He left Leo’s side, crossed the room once more, passed me, paused to pat Watson’s head—who gave a halfhearted attempt at ducking away—and then pulled three wineglasses from a cupboard. “What can I get you? Are you two more red or white fans?”
He was so nonchalant that either he was crazy or truly had no worry that once we heard his story we’d believe him. Either way, it threw me off. And maybe that was the point.
“Thank you, Silas, but Fred and I aren’t here for a drink.” Leo moved from the wall of pictures and came to stand beside Watson and me.
“Well, let me know if you change your mind.” Silas opened a bottle of red and poured himself a glass. He continued speaking as he got a small bowl and filled it with water and set it on the floor near Watson. “I’ll be direct with you both. Like I told you on the phone, Fred, I can’t stop you from going to the police and ruining Myrtle’s alibi, but I hope that you will understand why I did what I did and respect my decision enough to let it stand. I don’t know who killed Henry, but I have my suspicions. And even if those are wrong, I can guarantee you that Myrtle had absolutely nothing to do with it.”
Two huge sofas made up most of the seating possibilities in the living room, one against the far wall and the other at an L-shape position, partially separating the living room from the kitchen space. Silas sat on the one next to the wall and gestured toward the other for Leo and me.
For a moment, he looked nervous for the first time. No… not nervous… I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. Almost… in pain. His brown eyes met mine, then he glanced back and forth between the two of us, and finally settled on me. “I love Myrtle. I’ve been in love with her for years. She’s the most amazing woman I’ve ever known. Her passion, dedication, and purity of heart and one-track mind. She is powerful and amazing. She would never harm another creature, even of the human variety.” He swallowed, the pained look persisting. “That’s why I paid Benjamin to be her alibi.” He gestured around his house. “As you can see, I’m used to getting what I want. I’ve traveled the world several times over for my love of birds. I met Myrtle on a trip in Costa Rica on just such an expedition, and she blew me away. My life changed the day I met Myrtle Bantam. So you can’t blame me if I’m willing to do whatever it takes to make sure she is safe, even if it means paying someone to lie for her. And you can understand why I might be a little bit worried that the story might crack somewhere and she’d get blamed again.”
“You love her so much that you would cover for her even if she killed someone?”
Silas barely spared Leo a glance. “Don’t be ridiculous. You know Myrtle; she didn’t do this.”
“I don’t think she did it either, but sometimes people surprise us. And surely lying about it will only end up making her look guiltier.” Leo’s tender voice sounded like he was talking to a heartbroken teenager. It seemed he believed Silas’s story of love. “Wouldn’t it be better to simply let the police do their jobs?”
“It’s a nice thought, but you don’t really believe that, do you, Fred?” He looked to me though Leo had asked the question. “The whole town knows that you cleared your stepfather’s name, and then your business partner.” He cocked an eyebrow. “And here you are again. This time not even trying to clear someone you love. Simply not trusting the police to find the truth.”
I couldn’t think of anything to say but to agree. Before I needed to respond, Silas refocused on Leo.
“I only know Fred by reputation. But you I know, Leo. How have the police done with the bird club so far? Have they believed any of our theories about the poacher? Have they attempted to investigate? Have they even listened to you?”
Leo was struck as dumb as I was.
Silas looked back at me. “I admire you, Fred. You take matters into your own hands, and you protect the ones you love. I do that as well, though my manner in doing so is a little different. Maybe mine seems lazy to you, throwing money at things instead of investigating, but we each have our strengths. If anybody should understand what I’m doing, it’s you.”
I studied him, attempting to let my instincts and my brain work in tandem. I felt like they were. I believed him. Completely. From the look in his eyes and the sound of his voice, I had no doubt he loved Myrtle. And looking back, though I hadn’t noticed it at the time and the actions weren’t overt, the way he’d stood close to her, came to her defense. Always ready if she needed anything. As far as his way of going about it? I understood that too. Maybe it wasn’t the way I would do it, but the result was the same. Though I would argue not as effective.
The bottom line was that my gut, as well as those of several people I trusted, told me Myrtle was innocent. And nearly every other person I’d spoken to dismissed the idea that Myrtle was capable of murder. The same had been true for Barry, and then again for Katie.
I was certain Myrtle wasn’t going to break the pattern.
I couldn’t blame Silas for what he was doing, even if I wished he’d chosen a different way. I nearly said as much, when another thought hit me. “If all that’s true, Silas, I still don’t understand why you would need to pay Benjamin to lie. Why not do it yourself? There’d have been no chance Benjamin would crack, like he did, and you could be her rock-solid alibi.”
“I can’t.” Silas glanced away then, and a blush flared to his cheeks. When he finally looked back, though he couldn’t meet my eyes as directly as before, I still believed him. “Myrtle doesn’t know how I feel about her. And at this point, she can’t know. It took months after I moved here for her to even speak to me. She thought I moved here for her, which I had, but it wasn’t something she wanted. Myrtle doesn’t want a relationship. Even her friendships are little more than an outreach for her passion of birds. It’s an obsession. A lovely one, but an obsession nonetheless. One that leaves room for little else.” He met my gaze again, holding it, and I could see the genuine desperation in his eyes. “She can’t know. If she thought I had these sorts of feelings for her, she would cut me out. I don’t think she’d let me be in the club anymore. If I was her alibi, she would ask why. I don’t think I could do a good enough job of convincing her. But with Benjamin, she won’t understand why, but she would never think of him loving her, not like she would if I’d proclaimed to be her alibi.”
I glanced at Leo. And if I was reading his expression correctly, he believed Silas as well. Part of me wanted to ease Silas’s worry, promise him I wouldn’t tell Myrtle, but I wasn’t going to jump quite that far. Still, I had every intention of keeping Silas’s secret. I turned back to him, trying to keep my voice neutral. “You said you had some ideas of who might’ve killed Henry. What are they?”
Though I made no promises, I could see relief in Silas’s eyes, and his shoulders relaxed. He sat back, sinking a little farther into the sofa. “They’re nothing more than ideas. While I’m sure about Myrtle’s innocence, I’m not sure about much else. It was Alice we heard scream. Seems like a good plan to me. Kill someone and be the first on the scene, screaming, crying, and shaken. Henry accused Alice of cheating, which I know she is, but still. He let it go for a few months, and then he returned, accusing her of cheating, then accusing her of being the poacher. My other thought was Paulie. I don’t have that good of a reason to think it was him, other than he strikes me as a rather slimy little rat. And I know he’d been knocking on Henry’s door—” He gave a sardonic chuckle. “—both literally and figuratively, trying to be his friend. The guy’s like a little leech. Maybe Henry got tired of it, said something that hurt Paulie’s feelings, and Paulie snapped.” Silas shrugged. “They’re speculation. In truth, while I was nervous to
hear you were looking into things, I’m also glad of it, Fred. Whatever quality it is that helps a person figure out these kinds of things, I don’t have it. You do, apparently. I can keep Myrtle out of jail with a fake alibi, but you can fully clear her name. Any resources you require, all you need to do is ask.”
I thought I heard him wrong. “You want me to keep snooping?”
“Of course I do. Figure it out.”
I hadn’t expected that. I’d been saving the next question, planning to use it as my ace in the hole, to see if it would shake him at all. Now was the moment. “What about Myrtle’s pin? I found it a few yards away from where Henry was killed.”
Silas winced, the question clearly bothering him. “That wasn’t Myrtle’s pin. She only gets those when she’s been with that bird species in the wild. Seeing the kakapo is her biggest dream. She’ll get there one day, but she won’t allow herself to have that pin until she does.” He shrugged. “Again, I don’t have an explanation, and for the life of me, I can’t even come up with a plausible theory on that one. But I know it wasn’t Myrtle’s.”
That fit perfectly with what Myrtle had told Katie, so either it was the truth or Silas and Myrtle were in it together. Though it felt like the truth.
I played my final card, which I’d been holding back, and motioned toward the wall of birds. “There’re rumors that you cheat on your pictures.”
He studied me again, then finally cast what I thought was an embarrassed look toward Leo. “I love Myrtle, and I’m as passionate about conservation as she is, but I’m not quite as strict as her thinking. Some of the birds I visited in other countries were in captivity. Not by poachers or anything like that—by people who had one of the native birds as their pets, or they were held in a local zoo. Benjamin adjusts those photos when that happens so they look like they’re taken in the wild. That’s all. Obviously I don’t care about the stupid badges. But it gives me one more connection to Myrtle.”
“Silas, just because someone lives in whatever area you’re visiting, doesn’t mean they have the bird legally and they’re not poachers.” Leo sounded somewhat aghast. “It would be no different than if we’d spotted a Mexican Spotted Owl the other night, captured it, and put it in a cage.”
Bickering Birds Page 11