The Telltale Turtle (The Pet Psychic Mysteries)

by Jim Lavene;Joyce Lavene

  Baylor growled. Charlie was as charming as he was devious. Mary Catherine was actually enjoying his conversation, totally ignoring what was happening, getting into the truck on the strength of a wink and a smile. She had only herself to blame for her predicament. "It looks like we're going to have a storm. Where exactly are we going?"

  "The woman I'm investigating is out of town today. Her housekeeper always puts the dog outside while she's gone. I thought maybe you could talk to him. Find out who she's playing around with."

  "Oh, Charlie!" She shook her head in disgust. Baylor agreed. This man was sneaky and underhanded.

  "It's not a big deal," he assured her. "We pull up close to the fence where they keep the poodle. You talk to it and see if it tells you anything."

  "It's not that easy. Just because you can communicate with an animal doesn't mean they always tell you what you want to know."

  "You won't be doing any worse than I have. I've been following the wife around for six months trying to find out who she's having the affair with and I have zip. Her husband is starting to get a little upset."

  "Did you ever think there might not be anything going on? Maybe the woman is innocent. Maybe the husband imagined it."

  "Maybe doesn't pay the bills." He flipped on the headlights and windshield wipers as it started to rain. "I need evidence one way or another. The best way for me is if she's guilty, but the other way works too."

  She looked out at the dark sky as they reached the Atlantic " beaches. "I don't use animals to spy on people."

  I learned something interesting about your friend, Colin" He dangled the carrot with a smile. "We could trade."

  Mary Catherine knew she was going to do it. But even if it proved to be useful information, she was never going to see Charlie again! The man was a menace! "All right. But you tell me what you know about Colin first. Then we'll talk to the poodle."

  "Fair enough. While I was waiting at the police station, I talked with one of my old buddies. It seems your friend had a big disappointment after his parents were killed. All of the estate passed down to his aunt."

  "Everyone knows that."

  "Did you know he went to court, tried to get his share, but the will was unbreakable? There were hard feelings between them afterward. She was pushing the police to continue the investigation into her brother's death. I also heard Colin should've waited a little longer. Ferndelle only had a few months to live. She was dying from cancer."

  "Really? I wonder if Colin knew." Mary Catherine tried to concentrate on what she was saying, but a loud screeching bounced inside her brain and made her want to scream. "Pull over!"

  "What's wrong?" Charlie looked at her like she'd gone crazy.

  "I don't know. Pull over, please!"

  He pulled the truck off on the white sandy shoulder. Rain slammed against the windshield pushed by strong winds that added whitecaps to the dark gray sea stretched out to the horizon beyond the last leg of North Carolina. "What do you hear?"

  "I don't know. I've never heard anything like it. I don't even know if I can interpret it."

  "But you think it's some animal in pain or something?" He paused, his gaze scanning the horizon. "What is it? I don't see anything."

  "Be quiet!"

  "Sure" He shrugged and sat back with his fingers tapping on the steering wheel.

  "I don't know what it is, but it's that way." She pointed toward the water.

  "This isn't an amphibious truck. I had one of those. Couldn't make the payments."

  "Just wait here," she said impatiently. "You too, Baylor."

  The cat meowed loudly as the door slammed shut behind her.

  "She gets worked up over this, doesn't she?" Charlie said to the cat as he tried to stroke the large orange head. Baylor growled low in his throat and showed his teeth, ears flattened back and eyes narrowed. "Do you know what I'm saying? Do you understand English or just hear thoughts?"

  Realizing the cat wasn't going to answer, Charlie watched the animal focus on the window, looking in the direction Mary Catherine had disappeared. He got out of the truck, the rain immediately soaking him. It was warm, but the stiff breeze chilled him. He buttoned his sport coat, pulled up the collar, and hunched down inside it for protection against the weather.

  He called out her name, but the wind threw it back at him, laughing as it rushed on. Holding one hand above his eyes so he could see through the downpour, he finally spotted her.

  She was standing hip deep in a salt marsh by the side of the road. Charlie slogged toward her as she tried to untangle a pelican from some fencing that probably had been put up and forgotten years before. The creature was wild with agitation and fear as thunder hammered and lightning glittered through the dark afternoon sky.

  One of the bird's large wings was caught in the wire. Mary Catherine held its head with one hand and tried to untangle its wing with the other. Remarkably, the bird didn't try to peck at her or hurt her in any way, but it wouldn't keep still either and she couldn't get it free.

  "Let me help," Charlie offered, his husky voice loud above the roar of the storm washing over the coast.

  She turned her head, marmaladecolored hair plastered against her face by the rain. "If you could get her feet out of the way... watch out for her beak!"

  But the warning came too late and he yelped when the bird nipped him. "Why isn't he biting you? Tell him I want to help too." "

  "She knows it. She's frantic about her baby, that's all." Mary Catherine finally managed to get the mother pelican detached from the wire. "There now!" The bird kicked Charlie, then flew away quickly.

  I hope she said thank you," he said as they sloshed back out of the brine.

  "I don't think so. Very few wild animals do. They work on a whole different level than pets we've bred to live with us. Some of them are impossible to understand."

  "But they understand you want to help them." He stopped to help her out of the last part of the marsh and his warm hand held hers for a minute as she pushed her wet hair out of her eyes. "You're the genuine article, aren't you? No one is going to pay you for that. You just love animals."

  She felt a blush come up in her face. Or it might've been a hot flash. She wasn't sure. Sometimes exertion brought those on. She was soaked and her clothes were probably ruined by the salt water. But it was worth it to see the admiration in Charlie's eyes. She didn't need Baylor's guidance to know what it was either. "Listening to them, knowing how they think, makes me more aware of every living creature, I suppose. You wouldn't pass a child in the pelican's situation. It would be the same way for me with that incredible bird."

  "You're shaking." He put her cold hand to his warm face. "No wonder! You're colder than I am. I think we'll have to put off the poodle for today and go change clothes."

  "Don't be silly." She tried hard to break free from the spell he was weaving around her. "You can turn the heat on and we'll dry in the car. We've come this far. We might as well get the job done."

  She meant to sound competent, but realized she sounded a little gruff when he let go of her hand and started back toward the truck. It was probably just as well. She knew she was vulnerable to this man. She'd been alone too long with only Baylor for intimate company. She wasn't even sure Charlie was a decent man. And she didn't want to get involved with someone because she was needy and he looked at her like she was special. Although that had never stopped her before.

  Mary Catherine hobbled across the road after him. She'd lost one of her lavender slingbacks in the marsh. One of her favorites too.

  Charlie turned on the heat in the truck. "Are you sure about this?"

  She closed the door behind her. "Absolutely. And thank you for your help with the bird. Is your hand all right?"

  He held it out and she peered at it closely, holding it in hers until she realized how close they were and quickly dropped it. "The skin isn't broken. You should be fine. She didn't mean to hurt you.

  "I know. Were you hurt?"

  "No. I'm fine
." She shivered. "Just cold. Does the poodle live down here on the beach?"

  "Yeah." He started the truck moving forward again on the rough, steamy pavement that led out to the tip of the peninsula. The storm was already giving up on trying to push aside the large body of land it had come across. Rain fell fitfully and the wind still raced along the beach, but its fury was spent.

  Charlie talked about the couple as they drove toward the house. The husband was a successful stockbroker with little time for his wife. The wife spent her time spending his money and getting a tan. Something had made the husband suspicious and he'd wanted to know if she was cheating. He wouldn't give any other details to be sure Charlie did his job.

  "If she's cheating," he concluded, "she's really careful about it. I haven't seen her within ten feet of another man for the last six months. But she's in and out of that spa all the time. I think he might work there. I've checked out the staff. Tom Wilson, the spa owner, seems like my best lead so far. If the poodle's heard anything about Wilson, or any other name, that would be helpful."

  "I'll do what I can."

  As plans went, it worked fairly well. They pulled up close to the impressive iron fence and Mary Catherine jumped out to see what she could get from the dog. It was a large, black, standard poodle, probably about fifty or sixty pounds.

  Luckily, it had stopped raining just before they got there. A light haze hung over the area, imprinting the air with the strong scent of the sea.

  "Get anything yet?"

  "Not yet." She was too busy thinking about how damp and uncomfortable she was to wonder what the poodle was thinking.

  Baylor, on the other hand, was asking why she was standing in the rain, talking to a dog. Mary Catherine tried to explain, but the cat fluffed up his tail and hissed at the poodle, who barked back at him.

  "What was that?" Charlie asked. "Did you get that?"

  "That was ego. Two animals used to being dominant in their households warning each other off. Nothing more, I'm afraid." "

  "Did you question the dog?"

  I tried. But I need to get on his wavelength first. I have to know how he thinks."

  There was nothing from the poodle but thoughts about how handsome and exceptional he was. He cocked his head when she questioned him a little about his life. He made it clear right away that he resented the intrusion into his private thoughts.

  "He's going to be difficult," she told Charlie coming back to the truck. "I don't know if he ever thinks in terms of anything except what affects him."

  "Maybe you could play on that. Maybe this impacted him in some way.

  "I'll try." She sighed, already fed up with the animal. Most animals were self-centered but this one was exceptionally so. He couldn't seem to think of anything but what he was going to eat (it was never enough, never as good as he wanted it to be) and what color his nails were going to be painted.

  "Hey!" a woman yelled as she ran out to see what was going on. "Are you trying to hurt my dog?"

  Tommy cried out as he pushed himself against the side of the box that held him until he finally flipped over on his back and lay there helpless.

  "What is it?" Mary Catherine reached through the open window, hearing the scratching in the container. She turned him over and looked into his tiny face.

  The turtle repeated over and over again that he knew that voice, while the poodle barked, demanding attention. He knew that voice.

  Hi Mary Catherine!

  My name is Joe and I have a parrot named Jinks. He can look at pictures in magazines and tell me what he sees. And he's right more often than he's wrong. He saw a picture of a dog and made barking noises. He saw a picture of a couple hugging and asked me for a hug. He frequently copies things he sees on television. He saw a man get cookies from the cabinet and flew in there, demanding cookies.

  Do you think he's gifted?

  SIX

  "I ASKED YOU A question," the woman inside the fence with the poodle reminded her. "I'm gonna call the police. What were you trying to do to my dog?"

  Mary Catherine ignored her, trying to concentrate on what Tommy was trying to tell her. "You know her?"

  Tommy was too terrified to respond. He kept flipping his tiny body over and trying to get out of the box. She could tell he believed the woman was a threat.

  She looked at Charlie, not sure what to tell him. She wasn't sure she could trust him and didn't want him to realize the case he was investigating might be involved with Ferndelle's death.

  She apologized to Tommy as she lifted him from the box, but she had to be sure he was right about the other woman. The turtle reacted immediately. There was no question in her mind that he recognized the woman on the other side of the fence. Animals were very specific about humans. Tommy not only recognized the woman, but said she was there when Ferndelle was killed.

  Mary Catherine was stunned, but managed to recover when the woman demanded again to know what she was doing. "I'm sorry. I thought your dog was trying to get out of the fence. That happens to me all the time and I wanted to save you the bother."

  "That's very nice of you." The other woman still sounded suspicious. "Don't I know you from somewhere?"

  "I'm Mary Catherine Roberts, the Pet Psychic." She put out her wet hand.

  "Okay." The tanned woman in the red tank top and shorts reached across the fence and shook it. "I know you! I listen to your show all the time! This makes sense now. Who else would stop during a thunderstorm to save someone's dog? I'm Charlene Tate. It's a pleasure to meet you."

  "I'm pleased to meet you too. You have a lovely dog. His name is Jacques, right?"

  Charlene giggled. "That's right! You really are psychic! I was just telling Colin-"

  "Yes?"

  "Oh, nothing." Charlene recovered her mistake. "Thanks for stopping. I'm really glad I got to meet you"

  Mary Catherine got back in the truck and pushed her hair out of her face. She didn't need an animal for this one. Charlene had given it away by herself. Of course, Tommy's insistence that the woman was on hand when Ferndelle was killed didn't sound good for Colin.

  "Did you get anything from the poodle or the woman?" Charlie pulled the Suburban into the street. "I couldn't hear what she was saying."

  "The dog was only passing thoughts about his food and his grooming. Some dogs are like that. They don't think much beyond themselves. If his owner had been killed, it might be different."

  Charlie watched the turtle continue to flip over in the box. "What's up with him? Is he afraid of the dog? What about Charlene? What did she say?"

  Mary Catherine didn't respond. She had to throw him off. Maybe he needed information about Charlene's indiscretion but she had more important things on her mind. She didn't plan to allow Charlie to ask too many questions until she had answers to what had happened when Ferndelle was killed.

  "You know something," he accused.

  "I know her name is Charlene Tate."

  "You know her name? You really can talk to animals. I didn't tell you her name, did I? I was careful to keep that from you. I don't know any other way you could've known. Her name isn't on the mailbox. How did you know?"

  Mary Catherine clicked her seat belt in place. She could've told him the conventional truth, but she was enjoying his amazement. "You're babbling, Charlie. You already knew I talk to animals. Why are you so surprised?"

  "It's one thing to think it could be true. It's another thing to know it's true."

  "I'm sorry. He didn't have much to say except his owner's name. As I explained, you don't always get the answers you want from animals. Charlene thought we were trying to steal Jacques, the poodle."

  "Maybe not, but this opens a whole new realm of possibilities. You could talk to animals that have seen bank robberies and col lect the reward for telling the FBI where to find the people responsible. You could collect rewards for missing jewelry or Brinks trucks."

  "I've never considered doing anything like that." She hated to disillusion him, but she'd never stoop
low enough to ask animals to help her collect rewards.

  "I know it wouldn't work in every case," Charlie continued. "There wouldn't always be an animal that saw what happened. But there could be some kind of animal in a lot of cases. What about mice and rats? Do you talk to spiders and flies?"

  "You're getting carried away. I don't talk to insects. They seem to have a different brain function that I can't understand."

  "We could go into business together. It would be a great collaboration. We could make some serious money in finder fees"

  This conversation was going nowhere, as far as Mary Catherine was concerned. "I think we'll forget about lunch. It's getting late. I need to go home."

  Baylor was happy to hear she'd finally come to her senses about Charlie. He couldn't understand her fascination with him. He didn't even have great fur.

  Something in the tone of her voice finally penetrated Charlie's ravings. "Sorry. I didn't mean to get carried away."

  "Carried away?" She shook her head. "You're way past that. We're talking being swept out to sea by a tidal wave now. I want to go home."

  "Let's talk. Let me buy you lunch. It's the least I can do. I'm sorry if I spouted off. I'm just amazed at what you can do."

  "You mean you're amazed by the possibilities of what you can do with what I can do."

  "I've never met a real psychic. I've known a few fakes who claimed to be psychic. It kind of blew me away. But I'm okay now. I won't mention it again. I know a great little seafood place in Wrightsville Beach."

  "I'm vegetarian, for obvious reasons." "

  I have a cousin who's vegetarian. He eats fish and chicken."

  She sighed and rested her head on her hand. "Just take me home, please."

  "Okay. That was wrong too. Of course you don't eat anything you can talk to. That makes sense. What about salad? You eat veggies, right? I know a good salad bar. We could go there."