Killers of a Feather, page 6
I tossed him a withering glance. “Gee, I wonder why.”
Gary couldn’t resist a chuckle as I swept past him into the house. “I am sorry,” he said. “I was going to the kitchen for a glass of milk and I saw shadows out on the porch. I wanted to make sure you were all right.”
“Uh-huh,” I said. I waved my finger under his nose. “You knew darn well I was.”
He looked affronted. “I beg your pardon. I knew no such thing.”
“Oh, spare me. You know Josh’s car and you could see it perfectly well from the window.”
“I couldn’t be absolutely certain it was Joshy’s car,” Gary protested. “It doesn’t say ‘Police’ or ‘Homicide Division’ on it in big black letters, you know. You’re just upset because the sloppy good-night kiss you’d been hoping for turned into a chaste peck on the cheek.”
I growled, because he was exactly right. “You just wait until one night when you’re getting all cozy with Olivia. I’ll get even,” I hissed. “And his name is Josh, not Joshy.” I turned on my heel and made a beeline for the stairway.
“Nighty-night, Shell. Pleasant dreams,” Gary called after me.
“You too,” I sang out. “After all, my mother will be here in less than forty-eight hours.” A cheap shot, I knew, but Gary deserved it. I was halfway up the stairs when I remembered what I’d originally intended to do. I called up my photo app, found the photo of Ira that I’d snapped and forwarded it to Robbie along with a short message: Does this look like Johnny Draco?
I went into my bedroom, undressed and put on a nice pair of pajamas. I sat down at my dressing table and had just started to brush my hair when my phone vibrated. I snatched it up and read the text from Robbie.
Not one hundred percent positive, but it looks like him, except for that red hair.
I set the phone back on the dresser and turned to regard Purrday and Kahlua, who were sprawled across my bed. “Jury’s still out, kitties,” I told them. “Tomorrow is another day, though.”
I had to admit I was kind of anxious to see what Ira slash Johnny would say. My gut told me, though, that the chances of him showing up were getting slimmer by the minute.
Five
Ten a.m. Friday came and went and, big surprise, no Ira.
“I told you he’d be a no-show,” said Gary. He and I had been working on the window display since eight thirty that morning. He set down the two kitty scratching posts he’d been arranging. “Look, I know you’re disappointed, Shell. I know you really wanted to have a vocalist, but I have to admit I’m relieved we don’t have to deal with the possibility of the guy being a con artist and people we know blaming us for hiring him and maybe coming after him seeking revenge.”
“I kind of figured he wouldn’t show, but I must say, I’m disappointed,” I said. “I wanted a crack at getting some answers. Maybe something, or someone, scared him off. Maybe after he left me, he went around to see some of those people and didn’t get the warm and fuzzy reaction he hoped for.”
“It’s possible. In any event, we’re better off.” Gary set the scratch post down in between two cat tunnels and stepped back to study his handiwork. “Looking good.”
I reached for my phone, which I’d tossed on the front counter. “That reminds me, I want to text Robbie, see if he can pick up more sweaters and hats from Kathleen Power and bring them over today. I’ve got a feeling the two dozen she brought over are going to go like hotcakes.”
I glanced over at the display I’d arranged in the middle of the store. A stuffed bulldog and a stuffed gold tabby sat on a raised dais. The bulldog wore a blue-and-white-striped knit sweater with matching booties; the kitty had on a pink-and-gold sweater. Beneath them on a low shelf were various sweaters, hats and booties in gay colors, neatly folded. Olivia had mentioned that the few times Aunt Tillie had featured Kathleen’s items in the shop, they had sold out. I could see why. The craftsmanship was excellent.
I texted Robbie and got a fast Sure, no problem back as answer. I texted him Kathleen’s address and then noticed Gary glance pointedly at the clock on the wall. He saw me looking at him and shot me a sheepish grin. “It’s almost noon,” he said. “Want to break for lunch?”
“Wow, is it that late already?” I brushed a hand across my forehead. “I thought maybe we could order in. I’d like to finish up these interior displays and then bring out that big table from the storeroom. It’ll be perfect to put the refreshments on.”
Gary shrugged. “Okay. How about I order us some burgers from Bottoms Up?” As I rolled my eyes he added hastily, “Or maybe you’d prefer a pizza with everything from Angelo’s.”
I shot him a broad grin. “Now you’re talking. There’s a take-out menu on the counter next to the register.”
Gary went to order the pizza and I returned to putting the finishing touches on the display in the window. As I worked, my thoughts kept circling back to yesterday’s events. Draco showing up and then seemingly vanishing into thin air certainly seemed like history repeating itself. I had to ask myself, though, what had made the man come back here in the first place?
“The criminal always returns to the scene of the crime,” I murmured. I knew that was a standard plot device of television detective shows and movies. I remembered reading somewhere that law enforcement officials believed that perpetrators of certain crimes often returned to witness their handiwork. Had Johnny Draco returned to see how his victims had fared after the loss of their savings? He’d certainly seemed interested in them. I shook my head. There had to be a more compelling reason for his return after so long.
Perhaps a better question was, where had he been during the time he was away from Fox Hollow. If he had spent time in prison, what for?
“Maybe if he had, it might make Rita feel better.”
“What would make Rita feel better?”
I didn’t realize I’d spoken the words aloud until Gary appeared at my elbow. I waved my hand in the air. “I was just thinking out loud.”
He cocked his head at me. “You were thinking about Johnny Draco. Still.”
“Guilty.” I glanced out the large picture window at Sweet Perks. “I called Rita earlier, but the call went to voicemail. I thought she might call, but so far nothing.”
“She still might be upset. His presence seemed to stir up quite a few unpleasant memories, and it’s understandable. Olivia says that’s the way Rita is. She bottles everything up, stews over it till it gets to a simmer and then poof! She’s over it. You watch! She’ll be around today, back to her usual perky self.”
“I hope so.” But deep down, something told me that wasn’t the case.
Gary gave his stomach a pat. “Getting back to lunch, Angelo’s is slammed, so I’m going to run over and pick up the pizza. I’ll be back in a jiff.” Angelo’s was located at the end of Main Street, but it was a long block. Gary grinned. “I know how you hate cold pizza, so I’ll walk fast.”
He sailed out the door. I locked it behind him and then went behind the counter. I picked up one of the flyers that had the schedule of events on it and studied it. Elvin Scraggs had been up first, scheduled to give his concert at the gazebo following lunch—well, that was out now. Olivia’s dance class was scheduled for their recital at two, and there were various acts aimed at the younger crowd from three to five: a marionette show, a clown with a juggling act, and a mime. I nibbled absently at my lower lip. So the live entertainment would start at two instead of one, was that really such a big deal? All the people I’d spoken with this week had said how glad they were that Urban Tails was reopening. They’d seemed more focused on that than anything else.
I thought about the other merchants. They all knew what a boon the successful pet shop had been to everyone and were going all out to ensure its continued success. Their loyalty to my aunt’s lifelong work made a tear come to my eye. I brushed it away quickly. My aunt wouldn’t have wanted to see me blubbering.
My phone buzzed and I snatched it up. I saw the Fox Hollow Gazette’s name on the screen and hesitated, then hit the Answer button. “Urban Tails, Shell speaking.”
“How excited you must be that this is finally happening.” Quentin Watson’s voice sounded cheerful enough, but it had an undercurrent, an edge to it.
“Supremely. I imagine I can count on you for a full feature article?”
“Absolutely.” A pause and then: “I heard you were hiring Johnny Draco to replace Elvin Scraggs.”
It never amazed me how that man got hold of information. He had to have informants and snitches lined up all over town. “Who told you that?”
A dry chuckle. “Ah, Shell, you know a good newspaperman never reveals his sources.”
“Yeah, well, in this instance your source has it all wrong. I have no vocalist. I didn’t hire the man, and he said his name was Ira, by the way.”
“Ira was Johnny’s middle name, but I’m betting you know that. I’m betting you’ve already researched Draco and the scandal of five years ago.”
“I know enough to know he allegedly swindled a lot of people, you included,” I said.
“Allegedly nothing. The man’s guilty as sin,” Watson snapped.
“I see. And you know that because . . .”
“Because he is. Come on, Shell. The man took off in the middle of the night without a word to anyone, not even the woman he was involved with. Are those the actions of an innocent man?”
“They could be considered the actions of a troubled one. He lost money himself, didn’t he?”
“I’ll forgive you for taking his side, since you weren’t around at the time. But if you should see him today, give him a message from me. Tell him not to be such a coward and come and face me. I have a few things I want to say to him.”
“I’m sure that he’ll come and see you, Quentin, when he’s ready. He asked about quite a few people, my aunt for one . . . and you.”
“He did, did he?” Watson snorted. “Doesn’t surprise me he inquired about your aunt. She always did stick up for the underdog. Personally, if I were him, I’d think seriously about getting the heck out of Dodge before something . . . unfortunate happens.” He paused. “If you see him, you might pass along that message.”
“I told you, I’m not going to see—”
I sighed. I was talking to air. Quentin Watson had hung up. I paused, mulling over his last words. Something unfortunate, he’d said. Like what? An accident? Or worse?
I shrugged off thoughts of Watson and Draco and went back to my work. I noticed that there was room on the lower shelf on the far wall and decided to put out some of the airline travel carriers I’d found in the storeroom. They weren’t where I’d last seen them, of course. No doubt Gary had moved them somewhere when he was rummaging around. I finally located them in the far corner and had just picked one up when I heard an insistent tapping at the back door. Gary, no doubt, had forgotten the key I’d given him. I set the travel case back down and hurried over to the door. I didn’t even bother to look out, just pulled it open, and then I gasped in surprise.
Perched on the lowest branch of the tree that stood just outside the door was a large bright red parrot with a black beak. The parrot stared at me for a minute and then said in a high-pitched voice, “Honey is a good bird. Honey is a smart bird. Honey sees all, knows all.”
I stared right back at the bird. “You must be Honey Belle,” I said. “Did you tap at the door with your beak?”
“No, but that sounds like a good trick to teach her.”
I glanced up and saw Adrian Arnold hurrying toward me. He held a large box in both hands. As he approached, I saw that the box was filled to the brim with individual slips of brightly colored paper. The swarthy man gave me a smile as he approached.
“I tapped on the door, but I forgot the box so I had to go back to the car.”
“Oh,” I said. I looked from Adrian to Honey Belle and then back to Adrian again. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t expecting you until tomorrow.”
Adrian’s bushy eyebrows drew together in a frown. “Didn’t Gary mention I’d be stopping by? I wanted to leave Honey’s fortune box here, and Gary was also going to have you sign the contract I gave him yesterday. I had to make a new one up for Honey.”
“He must have forgotten.” I hesitated, then swung the door wide. “He’ll be back shortly. Why don’t you come in and wait?”
“Thank you.” He held out his arm. “Honey Belle. We’re going inside.”
The parrot hopped off the branch and right onto Adrian’s arm and they followed me inside. I shut the door behind us and said, “It’s good you dropped by, it saves me a call. I wanted to go over the itinerary for tomorrow with you.”
“Sure.” Adrian set the box down on the counter and eased his frame into one of the well-worn chairs. Honey Belle remained placidly on his arm the whole time, but when he was seated, the bird hopped onto his shoulder. “Gary said we could set up right in front of your shop.”
“That’s right. I thought having Honey Belle perform outside might encourage more people to stop in.”
Adrian laughed. “I don’t think these people need much encouragement for that, Ms. McMillan. It’s all anyone’s talked about this past month. They can’t wait for Urban Tails to be open again.”
“That’s kind of you to say.”
“It’s not kind, it’s the truth.”
“Did you know my aunt?” I asked.
“We met a few times. I bought a few supplies for my birds here.”
Honey Belle let out a loud squawk. “Aunt Tillie. One sharp cookie.”
Adrian’s cheeks flamed, but I laughed. “Yes, she was. Honey is a good judge of character.”
“Unfortunately Honey Belle never met your aunt,” Adrian said. “She only knows what I and Captain Snaggle have told her.” He paused and then added, “The captain performed at some charity events that your aunt chaired. Ms. Washburn was very fond of the captain.”
“I’m sure. My aunt loved all animals. I take after her in that respect. Speaking of the captain, did you ever find him?”
Adrian raised his hand and pulled absently at his ear. “No, and I have to admit it’s got me pretty upset. I spent a lot of time and money training that bird. He’s a yellow-naped amazon.”
“I never heard of that breed.”
“They’re native to southern Mexico, Central America and northern South America. They’re on the smaller side, fifteen inches from the beak to the tip of the tail. They’re very intelligent, though, and emotional as a human toddler. Why, those birds can live more than seventy years with the proper care.”
“Goodness.” I looked at the other parrot, still perched on Adrian’s shoulder. “And what breed is Honey Belle? Obviously she’s not a yellow-naped amazon.”
“No, she’s not,” Adrian said and chuckled. “I just called her the captain’s sister because I got ’em both on the same day. Honey Belle is an eclectus parrot. She’s bigger than the captain, measures twenty inches from beak to tail. Her life span’s a bit shorter though. Eclectus usually live between thirty to fifty years. They thrive in tropical rain forests, and are usually found in Australia and New Guinea. I bought her from a breeder from Australia.”
I inched a bit closer to peer at the parrot, who sat complacently on Adrian’s shoulder, watching me with her bright black eyes. “Her coloring is beautiful,” I murmured.
“With eclectus parrots, you can tell the sex of the bird by the color of its feathers. Males are a brilliant emerald green with bright orange beaks, and the females are mostly bright red, with black beaks and deep purple markings on the chest and tail.”
“You certainly know a lot about birds,” I said. “Have you been doing this long?”
He shrugged. “It started as a hobby, then I went into it full-time a few years ago.”
Honey Belle suddenly let out a loud honk. I jumped.
Adrian let out a laugh. “I should have warned you—that loud honk is distinctive of the breed. She’s just as intelligent as Captain Snaggle, though, maybe even more so. She’s just quieter.”
“I’m sure she is.” I looked over at the box. “Just how does she tell fortunes? Gary didn’t really explain it.”
“Pretty much the same as the captain, although he would actually engage the subject in conversation. What you heard Honey Belle say before is pretty much it.” He turned his head and lifted a finger toward the parrot. Honey Belle bent her head and nibbled at Adrian’s finger. “Honey Belle, this nice lady would like her fortune told.”
Honey Belle lifted her head to look at me. Then she repeated what I’d already heard her say. “Honey is a good bird. Honey is a smart bird. Honey sees all, knows all.” The bird hopped off of Adrian’s shoulder and over to the box on the counter. She bent down and pecked at the different squares of paper. She did this for a few moments before finally selecting one in a bright pink color. She hopped back on Adrian’s shoulder and extended the paper in her beak to me.
Even I had to admit it was pretty impressive. I reached out and took the paper. “Thank you, Honey Belle.”
The bird let out another loud honk then lifted up one foot. “Cross my claw with silver,” she said.
Adrian’s cheeks reddened slightly. “She got that phrase from her brother too.” He looked at me. “I usually have a tip jar on the side. Anything I get, I usually donate to the animal shelter.”
Somehow I doubted that, but I wasn’t going to argue the point. I wasn’t particularly fond of Adrian but I knew the birds were expensive and that their feeding and care could run into large sums of money. “Feel free to have your jar at the ready,” I told him. “I imagine the children will love to give Honey Belle a dollar or two for their fortune.”
Adrian inclined his head. “Thanks so kindly.” He pointed to the paper. “Well, aren’t you going to have a look? Honey Belle’s pretty good at picking out fortunes that suit her customers.”
“Sure.” I unfolded the pink paper and read the words that were printed in large, black block letters: “You will solve a complex problem.”
“Really? That’s the fortune?” Adrian came over to peer over my shoulder. “Hm. I had some of the high school kids print up a whole batch of fortunes. I guess I should have gone through them before I put them in the box. This is an odd one. Obviously some kid isn’t doing well in algebra and it’s their idea of a joke. Would you like a do-over?”
