He grunted, but seemed unable to tear his eyes from Owen.
I grabbed his arm. “Come on. That doesn’t mean we need to wait in here.”
We started to leave the office, but Watson was stretched to the end of his leash, growling quietly at a file cabinet.
I started to call him and force him to come, then thought better of it. I spoke to Leo, though I didn’t glance back at him. “Hold on.” I walked over to Watson, and felt Leo behind my back as I knelt down.
Watson continued to growl.
Ridiculously, I feared he’d found Myrtle’s body. Preposterous, since there wasn’t room. At first I didn’t see what had caught his attention, and I had to adjust my position to better see between a stack of boxes and the file cabinet, and then I saw the glint of silver. Carefully, I used the hem of my skirt as a glove and pulled it out.
“A knife.” Leo put his hand on my shoulder.
A large knife. Obviously what had killed Owen, judging from the freshness of the blood on it. Though I couldn’t imagine why it was there.
Leo sucked in a breath. “Fred, look.” He leaned forward, pointing at the knife, but stopping short of touching it. “There’s a kakapo inlaid on the handle.” He pulled his hand back. “It must be Myrtle’s.”
I started to nod and then stopped. “No. It’s not Myrtle’s.” I stood and looked Leo full in the face. “Though I bet I know where Myrtle is, or at least who she’s with.” This time I did have to pull Watson to get him to move and headed toward the door. I glanced back at Leo, who was fixated on Owen once more. “You coming with me?”
Despite his pale face, a flicker of a grin played at his lips. “You know it.”
We were nearly across town when Branson called.
In the haste, I’d forgotten all about him and nearly hit Ignore. Then realized we were more than likely going to need the police for the upcoming situation. “Hey, sorry I—”
“Where are you?” He sounded furious. “I told you not to leave.”
“I know who took Myrtle. Leo and I are headed to his house right now.”
“You’re what?” His voice rose nearly an octave, then crashed to a whisper. “You’re with Leo?”
“Yes, the two of us were going to go talk to Myrtle, and that’s when we discovered Owen’s body.”
Leo cast a sidelong glance at me, then refocused on the snowy road.
“Either way, I told you not to leave. And you have no business going on a rescue mission. I don’t need you getting killed too.”
“I won’t.” There wasn’t time for this. “We’re almost there, and I’m not stopping now. They might not even be here, but it’s probably a good idea for you to head over.” I filled him in on where we were headed. Branson sputtered indignantly the entire time.
We pulled into Silas’s driveway, and Leo slammed the Jeep into Park. “All right, stay here. I’ll be right back, hopefully.”
I gaped at him. “What do you mean, stay right here?”
“If we’re right, which I’m sure we are, Silas killed Owen less than half an hour ago. We don’t need to add another victim.”
He started to reach for the door handle, but I cut him off. “And what are you? Are you not a people—er person? Or does being a park ranger make you somehow invincible?”
“Fred.” Unlike Branson, Leo’s voice wasn’t patient, just pleading. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“Well, good. That makes two of us. I don’t want to be hurt either.” I could feel my nostrils flare, and my temper began to take over. “Nor do I want you hurt. And chances are that both of us are less likely to get hurt if we go together.”
For a second, I thought he was going to continue to argue, but then a grin began to form. “Fine. You’re probably right. You can come.”
Despite the fact we were more than likely sitting outside the home of a killer and getting ready to go confront him, I laughed. “Excuse me, did you just give me permission?”
“No, I was—” He blushed. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to do it that way. I simply want you to be safe.”
“We’ve covered that. Let’s do our best to make sure the other stays safe, all right?” I glanced back at Watson. “I’ll be right back.”
We hurried up the sidewalk, got to the door, and I turned to Leo, unable to keep a smile from forming. “Okay, I didn’t plan this part out. What do you think? Break a window, ring the doorbell, go around the house and look for unlocked doors?”
He considered for a second and then answered in a tone that was more of a question. “Ring the doorbell?”
“That’s kinda what I was thinking.” I pushed the doorbell. “This is insane.” Even so, I held up my hand to the etched glass oval on the front door and peered in. A large blurry form moved through my field of vision from farther back in the house, in the living room, if my memory served. “Ring the bell again, Leo.”
He did.
The large form returned, silhouetted against the light of the room behind him. I was sure it was Silas, and he stiffened when he saw me pressed against the window. He dropped whatever he’d been carrying and pushed it to the side, then to my surprise, strode toward the door. I jerked back on instinct but then forced myself to look again, checking his hands. So many things I’d not considered. His hands were empty, and I pulled back once more.
“I don’t think he’s holding a gun, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have one somewhere nearby.”
“I don’t have a gun, but I do have a crowbar in the back of the Jeep.”
I spared him a glance. “I don’t think you have time to go get it, and it’s probably best not to show up looking like we’re ready to attack. For all he knows, we’re here to talk about what we discussed before. Nothing else.”
“Yeah.” Leo sounded skeptical. “I don’t think that’s how this is going to go.”
I didn’t either.
But there was no more time to consider or predict. Silas opened the door, not wide but enough to make me wonder if maybe he wasn’t sure why we were there. “Fred, Leo.” He was wide-eyed and pale. Probably in shock. “Now is not a good time.”
Even before I said it, I knew it was pointless. “I’ve given some thoughts to what you requested. About keeping your feelings about Myrtle secret from her. I talked to her this morning; she was a complete wreck. I think maybe hearing that someone loves her might help.”
He laughed softly, a crazed smile forming on his lips. “She knows.” He started to shut the door. “You should leave now.”
I put my hand up to stop it, and Leo took a step closer. “That’s not going to work, Silas.” I decided to go with the direct approach again. It seemed more effective most of the time. “I want to see Myrtle. Have you hurt her?”
Silas flinched and relaxed his hold on the door, allowing me to nudge it open a little more. “I would never hurt Myrtle. Ever.”
“What about Owen? Or Henry?”
Silas cast his wild eyes on Leo. Maybe that had been a little too direct. “I need you to leave, Leo.” He straightened, squaring his shoulders, and his voice grew hard. “I don’t want to hurt you. I like you.” His gaze flicked to me. “Both of you. But I will hurt you, if you don’t leave right now.”
“Silas, we have to see Myrtle.” I tried the same mothering tone I’d used on Benjamin. The aggression was growing thick and needed to be cut somehow. “I only want to know she’s okay.”
“I already told you, I would never hurt her.” Silas started to slam the door, but Leo barged past, knocking me a little off-balance, and plowed into Silas.
I steadied myself on the wall of the porch, and watched as Leo and Silas were airborne in a weird embrace through the doorway, then crashed to the hardwood floor, causing the chandelier to shake and send a rainbow of fractals over the scene. Silas let out a cry as the back of his head hit the floor.
Leo repositioned quickly, straddling Silas and managing to secure both his wrists to the ground.
Silas began to buck.
; Leo looked like he was bull riding for a moment, then pressed harder on Silas’s wrists and dug his knees into Silas’s ribs. “Don’t struggle, Silas. I don’t want to hurt you either, so don’t make me.”
Silas stilled.
For just a heartbeat, I was so thrown off that I stared. I might’ve expected such a move from Branson, but not from Leo. From all our interactions, and Katie’s constant reference to him as Smokey Bear, that was exactly how I’d begun to see him. Some big, softhearted teddy bear.
There was nothing reminiscent of a stuffed animal as he glanced over his shoulder. “I’ve got ropes in the Jeep. Get them, please.”
I nodded and rushed toward the Jeep, slipping on a patch of ice on the walkway but catching myself easily. I almost laughed when I realized Leo had managed to say please as he pinned a murderer to the ground. The Jeep was unlocked, and I threw open the back door to find a huge assortment of equipment. The crowbar was there alongside an axe, and several coils of ropes. At least he was still teddy bear enough to not request the axe.
Watson peered over the back of the seat, whining pitifully.
“Sorry, buddy, be right back. Everything’s okay.” I grabbed the ropes and hurried back to Leo, who still had Silas secured.
“Tie up his right wrist.” Leo carefully slid his hands down Silas’s forearm, making room.
I wedged the end of the rope under Silas’s hand, and looped it, before starting the knot. I had a flash like an out-of-body experience as I worked. As if I was spying on us from the chandelier, I could see the three of us on the ground and marveled as I expediently tied rope around a man’s wrist. Surely it should be disturbing that I didn’t even hesitate.
From out of nowhere, Watson bounded through the door. He let out a ferocious bark, and as his hind foot caught on the doorjamb, he stumbled, plowing into Leo’s side.
It wasn’t much, but it was enough. Leo’s grip on Silas loosened, and my hands were fixing the knot, leaving less pressure on the rest of his arm. As Silas swung a fist through the air, the rope slapped across my face, and his fist smashed into Leo’s temple.
Though Leo let out a yell, he managed to hold on to Silas all the same, but Silas used the momentum of his swing to force a roll. He was unable to do it completely, and he and Leo ended up on their sides. With a startled yelp, Watson darted out of the way, then realized Leo was in trouble and rushed back in to bite Silas’s ear, instantly drawing blood.
Silas howled and swung again, this time at Watson. Still having the rope in my hand that was secured to his wrist, I threw myself backward from my kneeling position yanking the rope as hard as I could.
There was a snap, and another yell.
“Freeze!”
I yanked harder at the rope, eliciting another scream from Silas.
“Fred! I said freeze.”
I wasn’t sure who I thought shouted the first freeze, but it startled me when I looked over to see Branson and Officer Green both pointing their guns at Silas.
I froze but didn’t lessen my hold on the rope.
Watson growled, still tugging on Silas’s ear.
“Fred. You can unfreeze enough to remind Watson he’s a corgi not a German shepherd.” There was a hint of laughter in Branson’s tone.
I hesitated to release the rope, fearing Silas would take a swing at Watson, but then I noticed the unnatural angle of his arm. He wasn’t going to be doing anything to Watson. I supposed I’d done that.
Releasing the rope, I slid an arm under Watson’s belly and pulled him from Silas.
He snarled, then realized it was me and settled.
“Good boy,” I whispered in his ear as I ruffled his fur. “You’re my good, brave boy.” I’d made plenty of jokes about Watson killing me in my sleep. I was going to have to reconsider those. I hadn’t known he had it in him.
“You too, Lopez. Let him go. We’ve got it from here.”
In a matter of minutes, Branson and Susan had Silas handcuffed and read him his rights. Susan kept her gun trained on him, even after he was handcuffed, which had sent Silas into fits of howling. She glanced at me occasionally, and I wondered if she was considering pointing the gun somewhere else.
Branson turned to us. “Myrtle?”
I shook my head. “As you can see, we didn’t quite make it past the doorway.”
He snickered. “I almost wish we’d been a couple of minutes later. Dislocated arm, chewed up ear… any longer and the guy might’ve been total dog food.” He glanced around, his eyes wide as he took in the mansion. “If she’s here, we’ve got a lot of rooms to search.”
“No, I know where she is.” I motioned toward where Watson was sniffing in front of the door, the same one he’d smelled before. This time there was the key and the lock. “For some reason, I don’t think that’s a closet.”
Branson headed over, twisted the door handle, and looked in, then let out a low whistle.
Watson rushed past him.
Leo and I both hurried to follow, and I could see the objection rising to Branson’s lips as we neared the door.
“Sergeant Wexler.” Susan’s voice froze us in our places. “These are civilians. They need to stay here.”
“You know, Susan.” I didn’t think I’d ever heard Branson’s voice sound so cold. “It’s time you remember that you’re outranked.” He stepped through the doorway, gun drawn, and gestured with his head for us to follow.
I gave a mental thanks to Susan, certain Branson was letting us follow simply because she’d told him he shouldn’t.
The reason Branson had whistled was instantly clear the moment Leo and I looked in the doorway, and we turned to stare at each other before going in.
Indeed, it was not a closet, but a long set of stairs. But that was where the comparison to anything house-like stopped. Every step we took brought us into a new world. And with every one, we left the winter wonderland of Estes behind and entered a hot and humid rainforest.
The ceilings were at least twenty feet high, though maybe taller. It was hard to tell with the large growths of trees and vines covering the space. It looked like it went on forever. The ground was dirt, rock, moss, and different sorts of vegetation. A small stream babbled through the center. And sitting on its bank, looking completely dazed and in shock was Myrtle. Her hands and feet were bound, and there was a bruise forming on the side of her face, but other than that she looked no worse for the wear. Beside her, Watson pressed against her, barking at us like we couldn’t see them. And above everything, were birds. Countless birds. Parrots of every color imaginable, finches, and doves, and all sorts of songbirds I didn’t have the names for. And then I realized it wasn’t only above us, but everywhere. Behind Myrtle and Watson, a peacock strode between the trees. All sorts of birds—some I recognized, others I didn’t—wandered about, a few of them playing in the stream.
We were all rather shocked, and it took us several moments frozen at the base of the steps before we entered the world and rushed to Myrtle’s side.
Ten minutes later, police were scouring the house, and Susan and another officer had taken Silas away.
We’d started to bring Myrtle up, but she begged to stay where she was. So after getting her a glass of water, Leo, Watson, and I sat on the bank of the indoor stream with her, while Branson paced, asking endless questions.
“You’re certain Owen was the poacher?”
Myrtle nodded. She seemed more herself every second, and she didn’t appear to be closing off like she normally did, though she never met any of our gazes. She was constantly looking everywhere, every once in a while gasping at the sight of a new bird she’d not noticed. “Yes. After I spoke to Fred this morning, I made a surprise visit to Petra. What Fred said was true. Petra admitted she’d got the bird from Owen.”
“An owlet?”
Branson cast Leo an irritated glare for interrupting, but Myrtle answered him anyway.
“Yes. One that’s not doing very well, I’m afraid.” Her eyes tracked a red macaw that let out
a screech and landed on a branch over our heads. “And then I started checking the books. Owen helped me with a lot of the financial stuff for the club. Honestly, I’m not sure what it means, but something was wrong with the notes. I don’t think money was missing, but there was also documentation of where we spotted rare birds nearby, which makes sense, but also some states over.” She shrugged. “In and of itself, not a big deal, but considering what I’d seen at Petra’s, it made me wonder.”
“We’ll need to take those books as evidence, Myrtle. More proof of what Owen was up to.” Branson made a note in his pad.
“Maybe you can finally put a stop to the poaching ring that’s been going on.” Leo cast a hard stare at Branson. “It’s not one person. Owen might be part of it, but he’s merely a part. We’ve got a poaching ring going on in—”
“Don’t get carried away, Leo.” Before Leo could respond, Branson refocused on Myrtle. “What did Owen say to you?”
“I was at the shop with Silas. When I found the books, I called him to see what he thought.” She finally looked away from the birds and glanced at Leo. But only for a second. “I texted you while Silas was there. I wanted your input as well. Silas was saying that I was reading into the books too much. That Owen wouldn’t do such a thing.” Her gaze grew distant, seeming not to focus even on the birds anymore, probably lost to the recent memory. “Then Owen showed up. He’d heard about Benjamin being taken in for questioning, and Petra had called him to let him know that I knew about the owl. He came there to kill me. He and Silas started arguing. Owen was saying that I knew too much, that I couldn’t live. Silas kept telling him that I could be trusted and that we were going away soon anyway.” She shivered. “Owen pulled a gun and was going to shoot me, but Silas… stopped him.”
All of us were still.
“So that means Silas killed saving you.” I took her by the hand, keeping my other on Watson. The last thing we needed was for him to decide to do a replay of a bird chase. “So he’s not a murderer, at least not in that sense.”
“Yes, he is.” She turned sad eyes on me. “He killed Henry. That wasn’t Owen.”
Bickering Birds Page 15