by Ellen Riggs
He had a good point. “Those people were like pro spies in movies, so I honestly doubt we did. For all I know they might be here this very moment. Watching me.”
“And what are you doing that’s so interesting?”
“Just studying the swan. From a good distance. Tomorrow I’m going to a bird sanctuary to learn more.”
“I like the sound of that,” he said. “A nice safe bird sanctuary, where you can stay out of harm’s way.”
“There are alligators around these parts. How safe is that?”
The word was enough to startle Keats out of his trance and he whined.
“I can tell Keats isn’t thrilled about meeting one of those.”
“He’s not thrilled about this case at all,” I said. “Water, you know. There’s a pond and a pool. Double whammy.”
Now the dog shook, throwing off imaginary water and the swan’s spell. His whine amped up to spur me on.
“Promise me you’ll call at least twice a day, Ivy. Otherwise, I’ll come down there. And if I come down there, I’m not here protecting your farm.”
Ouch. Now he’d hit me where I lived. Literally.
“Is everything okay at home?” It was like I’d snapped out of my swan trance, too. “People pulling together?”
“So far so good,” he said. “Cori says Edna’s worried about the donkey thugs.”
“Cori’s your primary source of intel now?” I couldn’t help grinning. A few months ago they could barely tolerate each other because he represented the law and she took delight in flouting it.
“We’re not as dissimilar as you’d think. Or at least as I thought. There’s a method in Cori’s madness. The Rescue Mafia protects the innocent and punishes people who deserve to be punished. Maybe I’m a little jealous because I have to abide by the law and they get to be creative.” The sigh he released almost blew my hair back despite the many miles between us. “Scratch the surface of some cops and you find a vigilante right underneath.”
“Like this swan I’m surveilling,” I said. “He’s all calm on top and churning everything up underneath.”
Kellan laughed. “I like that comparison. You sure it’s a boy swan?”
“We haven’t gotten that personal. I’ve taken some pics so they can tell me more at the sanctuary.” I sent one off to Kellan, too, and heard the ping at his end. “There’s your competition, good sir. Not a redheaded cop.”
This time his laugh made me tingle for different reasons. “My only real competition has one blue eye.”
“Like I’ve told you before, you have no competition. Never have since tenth grade. I left my heart on ice when I went to college and you thawed it when I got home.”
He was probably wasting that slow smile on the evidence locker, where he often went to get some privacy. Bunhead Betty, who sat at the front desk at the police station judging people like me, manned the gossip lines as skillfully as she did dispatch.
“So what are you going to do now?” he asked.
“Head back for the potluck,” I said. “The conversation ought to be interesting.”
“Don’t let anyone hex you,” he said. “Can Keats protect you from that?”
“There’s cause to worry. This swan has him utterly transfixed. Percy, too. I’m not sure their superpowers are fully online.”
“All the more reason to be cautious,” Kellan said. “If you’ve got a tight community of people who think they can rely on magic, there are bound to be dustups.”
“No argument there,” I said. “It may be our most interesting case yet.”
“Pardon me?”
“Right. Not my case at all. I’m just vacationing in a very thorny bush watching a swan.”
I left him chuckling, which was my intent. But the truth was that I’d been watching something else for nearly a minute that looked very much like the muzzle of a shotgun.
Chapter Eleven
“Keats,” I whispered. “Keats. Yoo-hoo. Earth to sheepdog. There’s a situation here. Can you tear yourself away from Swan TV?”
The dog’s ears flicked back and forth as if he were indeed trying to tune in to a particular station. Whether that was the swan’s, the community’s or something far beyond, I wasn’t sure. I only knew that I needed him grounded beside me. Fast.
“There’s a gun, buddy. It’s not directed at us but the swan. Someone hoping to take out a suspect, and we can’t allow that.”
Another shudder passed over Keats from head to tail. I hadn’t seen him so unsettled since his last bath, right before our trip. I had wanted him to look and smell nice for Jilly’s gran, but it was a waste. We probably both smelled of swamp right now. Luckily, this wasn’t on the scale of Huckleberry Swamp back home, with its fetid, leech-infested filth.
“Stay quiet, boys,” I whispered. “We don’t want to startle the hunter and have the business end of that rifle shift our way. How are we going to play this?”
After a moment’s reflection, I backed out of the bush, peered around and then got to my feet on the path. It seemed like nearly everyone was avoiding the pond, even though the police had finished their work here and were focused on Lottie’s house.
“Bear with me, you two,” I said. “Let’s pretend I’m a regular person out for a walk with my pets, okay?”
Keats panted his agreement, now fully present. His tail and ears were at half-mast, proving he wasn’t big on the owner of the rifle. Still, he didn’t consider this a dire emergency.
Directing the dog and cat into the bush, I called out, “Keats! Percy! Boys, where are you? Don’t go near the water, now. It could be dangerous.”
A red baseball cap popped out of the shrubs about 10 yards away. The agent of doom turned out to be Special Constable Doug with a red-checked flannel hunting jacket over his uniform on a very warm day.
“Hey, Special Constable Doug,” I called. “Whatcha doing?”
“Lunch break,” he said, although it was midafternoon now. “Came down to enjoy the view.”
“Through your viewfinder, you mean. Guns aren’t exactly safe around seniors or pets. My dog and cat are wandering down here, actually. Have you seen them?”
He shook his head and scowled. “Pets aren’t welcome here.”
“And yet people have them.”
“They cause tension in the community,” he said. “I get more calls about poop infractions than anything else. I hope the board votes to let the current generation die off and then bans pets, period.”
“That would be so hard on residents. Pets are so important for making people feel connected and content.”
“Well, how about you connect yours to a leash right now, so they don’t get shot?”
“How about you put your gun away so they don’t get shot?” I pulled out my phone. “You heard Chief Gillock. He said to leave the swan alone until the police investigation is done. We could call him down to see if he’s changed his mind, though.”
Doug lowered the gun, trying to chill me with his icy blue eyes. “My first priority is the safety of residents here. If a swan is beating up our citizens, I can use whatever weapons I see fit to protect them.”
I looked at the device hanging from his tool belt. “Including a crossbow? Seriously? Your citizens are getting run down by golf carts, Constable. Do you really think they can dodge flying arrows?”
His face took on a ruddy hue. “What are you talking about?”
“I heard some folks got squashed like flies by a drunk driver. I expect you know about that.”
“Don’t assume all you hear is true. Flustered people blurt things out. A good story is better than a true story.”
“That part’s true enough,” I said, laughing. “I’m just passing along what I heard about potential litigation, but you know best.”
“If I were you, I’d focus on keeping Bridie Brighton out of the news,” he said. “Lottie Greenwich had a bone to pick with her.”
“If you’d tell me what that was about, Jilly and I could sort it out wit
h Bridie.”
“Not my place,” he said. “Like you said, there’s a police investigation.”
“If you care so much about the citizens, you’ll let me do what I can to help. I bet you have your hands full with squabbles that aren’t easy to solve.”
“You got that right,” he said. “Especially the ladies. What went on between Lottie and Bridie sounded like complete claptrap. Apparently, Bridie had a vision about Lottie and was going to expose her. And Lottie threatened to expose Bridie in return.”
“What did Bridie have on Lottie?”
He shrugged. “Got me. Lottie didn’t seem to hide much.”
His blue eyes started darting back and forth. He was lying, so I’d have to offer something in return for the information. “I respect that you’re protecting Lottie, Constable Doug. But I’m trying to protect Bridie and the swan. Perhaps I know something that would help you in your work. I’d be happy to share.”
“What could you possibly know that I don’t?”
I shrugged. “While you were busy hunting a protected species, someone may have borrowed your equipment.”
Now I had his attention. He crunched through the bushes toward me, unaware that he was being subtly herded.
“You’re obliged to tell me exactly what you saw. I am the law here.”
“I’m fine with sharing the information directly with Chief Gillock. He’s the law above the law. But if you want to elaborate on your earlier hint, I suppose I could make an allowance.”
“Arnie,” Doug said. “Lottie was hiding Arnie. I found out about him on routine surveillance. He was watching me from her window. Scared the dickens out of me.”
“A secret boyfriend?” I asked. “I’ve heard about that happening around here.”
His shoulders convulsed and a burp of laughter escaped. “Arnie was an illicit love, all right, but of the four-legged variety. Outlawed in regulation.”
“Cat or dog?” I asked.
“Something easier to hide. A ferret.”
“Huh. I did not see that coming. So Bridie knew about Arnie. Was she the only one?”
“I think so. Lottie worked hard to keep it that way.”
“Paid for your silence, you mean,” I said.
“That wouldn’t be ethical, now, would it?” he said. “Although sometimes in my line of work you need to cut a few corners to keep things running smoothly.”
His eyes got shifty again, making me suspect he had a lucrative side hustle of extorting residents.
“I can appreciate that,” I said. “So my only other question is… what’s happening with the ferret now that Lottie’s gone?”
His checkered shoulders rose and fell. “Not my problem. Dealing with unsanctioned animals is out of my purview.”
“And yet you’re down here fully armed to deal with an animal.”
“That’s different. It’s wildlife. Besides, a ferret isn’t going to kill our residents.”
“You never know. My nephews’ ferrets nip. Something like that could cause an infection and—”
He raised his hand. “Never mind. Arnie probably escaped during the police investigation. The doors were wide open when I rode by. You saw me checking on him.”
“Did you tell the chief, at least?”
“I keep the secrets I agreed to keep. Only told you because you seem to know something of extreme value to me.”
“Extreme,” I said. “If you care about your Vespa, that is. It’s the yellow one, right?”
“My Vespa?” He was moving so fast he didn’t feel teeth on his pant leg, but Keats had a scrap of fabric hanging from his jaws. “It’s the only one.”
“So, when I was coming down here someone was ahead of me, pushing it. Then he booted that thing through a hedge off Bridie’s street. Thought it would end in screams, but the bike roared off on the other side. Guess someone made a run for freedom.”
Doug made a run for it, too. “Who was it?”
“Male, bald, paunchy,” I called after him.
“That describes almost all the men,” he called back.
“He had good command of the vehicle. Taking the curb was a bold move, so props for that. Then he cut through that hedge like a chainsaw. The motor gave a screech but—”
Doug was out of earshot now. Keats and I looked at each other and shared our first belly laugh since leaving Runaway Farm.
“We’re getting our feet wet here, buddy,” I said. “Hopefully not literally. Let’s go and have a careful chat with the real star of this investigation.”
With Doug gone, the swan’s pace slowed from frenetic to merely rapid. His wings stayed up in what I took to be an aggressive display. If he were at ease, he’d be dipping his regal head under the water to dine on reeds and weeds.
“I get a masculine vibe,” I said, noticing both my pets fell further and further behind as I neared the water’s edge. The turf became increasingly boggy and I picked my way carefully to the rickety dock. Keats put on four white brakes and refused to join me. The dog that readily took on killers in Clover Grove had set his limit. Percy continued on with me, however, so I wasn’t alone when I stood at the end of the ancient dock to meet the swan.
The big white bird circled, hit reverse with webbed feet I couldn’t see in the murky water, and paused directly in front of the dock. He rocked gently and curved his elegant neck before pinning me with small eyes like black pearls.
“Greetings,” I said. “I’m Ivy Galloway and this is Percy. The nervous nellie behind me is Keats. He’s a brilliant dog with the heart of a warrior, but water is his undoing.” There was an indignant mumble. “He can swim, but he’d rather keep his whites white and dry. I’m sure you can understand that.”
The swan turned in a complete circle, as if displaying his finery.
“You’re gorgeous,” I said. “And I’d love to know more about what’s happened since you arrived. Or even why you arrived. This can’t be the pond of your dreams.”
I scanned the water and that’s when I noticed goldfish. These weren’t the flashes of fire Bridie had mentioned. They were lifeless, mostly floating just below the surface. A couple of dozen at least.
The swan’s pacing began again, as if to prove he felt as trapped as the human residents.
“I don’t understand why you wouldn’t move on, especially after what happened. The free food can’t be a big enough incentive to stick around anymore. I’m sure you can find admirers anywhere who’d be willing to pay you in grain to adorn their shores.”
The proud head dipped in what appeared to be resignation, even sadness, and his movements slowed. He let out a hoarse whistle that seemed to carry a note of sorrow. So mute swans were not mute after all.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “Maybe I said the wrong thing. All I wanted to do was reassure you that I’ll do my best to figure out what’s going on here. I’m pretty good at getting to the bottom of mucky problems.” The mumble behind me got more indignant. “We all are. I have a good team, including Jilly, whom you may have noticed earlier. I sense you’re the innocent victim here and if you’ll just give me a couple of days, I believe I can figure things out.”
The bird’s head snaked out and his beak opened in a hiss. I expected Percy to jump. Instead, the cat hissed back and raised a paw with claws splayed. Although the swan could easily have flicked my cat to the next county with one wing, he chose to reverse course. Percy offered a rather snippy meow that sounded like, “So there.”
“Thanks, Percy,” I said. “I’m sure the swan means us no harm. He’s unhappy and we can’t blame him for lashing out. Plus he doesn’t know us or our skills.” I took out my phone. “Mind if I snap a few photos, Mr. Swan? I’m going to a bird sanctuary to learn more about your species.”
For the first time, the bird seemed to settle in what appeared to be a casual pose, wings settled. I took a few photos from different angles and then thanked him.
“I’ll be back with a full report. Please take care of yourself in the meantime.” I
looked across the pond. “The area over there seems to have plenty of coverage. May I suggest you stay out of sight? I’ll report the man with the gun but I don’t have much faith he’ll leave you in peace.”
Almost like magic, the bird receded. With no apparent effort, he got further and further away. Keats finally dared to come forward. He gave a sharp bark as if to say, “Yeah. Go!”
“Don’t bother,” I said, turning. “It’s beneath you.”
We walked back to the road and then on to the recreation center.
“Boys, this place makes Sunny Acres look like sweet paradise, yet we almost met our maker there.”
Keats mumbled agreement and I sighed.
“We’ll prevail, I’m sure of it. But I don’t need my palm read to know it’s going to be one heck of a ride.”
Chapter Twelve
Vaughan Mills was immersed in a hot tub surrounded by churning bubbles when I tracked him down later. Four women sat in deck chairs in a semi-circle around him. The scene made me think of Hugh Hefner at his mansion, only the ladies were fully clothed in bright, tropical themed blouses and flowing linen skirts or slacks. Seeing us standing in the entrance to the courtyard, Elsie Cornwall and Alice Cheevers dangled their fingers to summon Keats, Percy or both. It didn’t matter which pet because neither was getting anywhere near the churning geyser. Keats gave a rare bleat of protest to confirm the hot tub was more terrifying than anything he’d encountered before.
“Sorry ladies,” I said. “My boys don’t like water. Such a shame that the only vacation we’re likely to get for years gives them heart palpitations.”
Cherise Heatherington fanned her flushed face with what looked like one of Jilly’s custom menus. It even had the Briars’ logo on top. “I imagine we’ve all had heart palpitations today. It was such a shock. No one’s ever died here before.”
Vaughan laughed and then splashed around till he faced her directly. “Come on now, Cherise. People die here all the time.”
“Of natural causes. The way the good Lord intended.”