by Cindy Brown
So I chickened out and went home. “Now I think I got too much sun,” I said over the phone. “Do you mind if I take the day off?”
“No problem,” said the nicest uncle in the world.
Oh. Dang. My sense of responsibility kicked in. “Wait, maybe I should come in. Hayden said something weird today, about having a cover. He’d also said he was on the road a lot, but I can’t figure out why. And I saw him with Bianca at the faire. I ran a background check earlier, but—”
“Don’t worry. I’ll do some digging. You just feel better.”
I hung up, lay down on the couch, put a (clean) dishrag over my eyes to block out the daylight, and tried to sleep. I was able to nap, probably because I hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in ages. But it was a fitful sleep, full of jousting horses and birds of prey and...cows?
Mooooo! Mooooo! I looked at my phone: Uncle Bob. And it was five thirty—after his normal work hours. I suddenly felt wide-awake. “Hey,” I said. “Did you find something?”
“On Hayden, no. Just an actor with a trust fund as far as I can tell.”
“Any reason he’d be traveling?”
“Maybe just for fun? He’s got the cash. But that’s not the reason I called you. Remember how the coroner was going to run some more tests on the scratch on Angus’s face?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, they discovered something,” said Uncle Bob. “That scratch was made by a bird.”
After throwing on a black hoodie and some sweats, I got into my truck and headed east, toward the faire. I wanted to surprise Bianca, in case she’d run, and I wanted to do it on her own turf, in case she’d inadvertently give me more clues. I told Uncle Bob I wanted to do this alone—I didn’t think Bianca was dangerous and thought I’d get more out of a conversation just between us two women—but I told him where I’d be and I promised to have my cell phone on me.
But how to approach this? “Hi, I can tell by the bird scratches on Angus’s face that you had something to do with his death, and must have set up your ex-boyfriend to take the fall?” Maybe a little subtler than that.
I was still mulling over my talking points when I got to the faire. I parked at the far end of the public parking lot so Bianca wouldn’t be alerted by the sound of my truck, turned off the ringer on my phone, and pulled my hood over my head to make me a little less visible. I walked into the dark empty faire toward the mews. I thought I’d try that before Bianca’s trailer. Yes. A light shone through a small window.
I was nearly there when I remembered something: Bianca knew I’d been undercover. She’d known at least since Thursday, when I was hit on the head. And I was hit on the head after she saw my distinctive bellybutton. Probably did it herself. I probably should have brought my uncle along.
Typically, when faced with even a smidgen of danger, I’d feel a little jolt of adrenaline. My heart would beat faster, my muscles tense in readiness for fight or flight. Instead I just felt exhausted—tired of the strain of the investigation, the pressure of making the Matt decision, the stress of pretending to be someone else all the time. So I wasn’t paying a lot of attention to my surroundings.
“Don’t move,” said a voice behind me. “I’ve got a weapon. What are you doing here?” Bianca’s voice.
“It’s just me.” Being an actor was a plus when you were trying to sound calm when faced with a potential murderer with a weapon. “Just me, Ivy-the-friend-of Riley slash Prudence-the-belly-dancing-mime. Can I turn around now?”
“Okay.”
Bianca stood behind me, Edgar perched on her shoulder. “You have a weapon?” I asked, pulling down my hood.
“I was lying. I thought you were a thief or something.”
“Just a bad investigator, but...oh. You do have a weapon.”
“No, I was—”
“Edgar. Edgar, your watchdog. Your weapon.”
“Edgar isn’t a wea—”
“The coroner said there were bird scratches on Angus’s face. Recent ones, probably made the night before he died.” I motioned toward the mews. “Can we go inside?” I wanted to see Bianca’s face when I questioned her.
“Oh. Yeah. Sure.”
We walked the short distance and Bianca opened the door for me. It was only slightly lighter inside than outside. “Could we turn on another light?” I asked.
“I’d rather not.” Bianca motioned to the cages, all covered now. “They’re sleeping.”
“Okay. Put Edgar to bed too, would you? Or at least in his cage.”
Bianca opened the door to Edgar’s cage and he flew in. I made sure she latched the door. I motioned for her to sit in a wooden chair. I stood in front of her, like a prosecutor. It felt wrong. I dragged another chair over and sat facing her. Better.
“You said ‘belly dancing mime,’” Bianca said. “You’re blowing your own cover?”
“Seems my outie outed me. I figured you told Hayden, who’s not who he pretends to be, either.” Of course I didn’t know who that really was. I was hoping Bianca would give me a clue.
“Thank God for that. We’d be in big trouble without their lawyers.”
Their lawyers. “What’s the name of Hayden’s group again?”
“You mean the Winged Army?”
“How come I’ve never heard of them?”
“They operate under the radar.”
“So when did you contact Hayden? Before or after the joust?”
Bianca raised her chin and looked at me. “I think you’re pretending to know more than you do.”
“I know you hit me on the head.”
“Sorry. But I didn’t mean to knock you out, just knock you down. I still think you fainted. And I did make sure you were okay afterward.”
“Did you hit Riley on the head too?”
“See what I mean about pretending to know things?”
“Okay.” I stood up. “This is what I know: I know you were in a love triangle with Angus and Riley—”
“Not sure I’d call it love.”
I walked as I talked, hoping that it looked like I was pacing. “I know you hit me on the head.”
“And helped you afterward.”
“I know you were suspiciously close by after William’s ‘accident.’” I was almost in place.
“And probably saved his life.”
I was right where I needed to be. “And I know that this”—I tore the sheet off the mystery cage—“is part of the reason that...” I stopped. Inside the cage was a bird, nearly two feet tall, with a white dappled chest and darker wings. Its beauty was marred by blue tape on one wing and a creepy leather hood that covered its head. “It really is a sick bird.” I draped the cloth back over the cage. “I’m sorry.” And to my surprise, I began to cry.
“Um...” Bianca walked over to me. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know anything. That’s the problem.”
“You know I hit you on the head,” she said. “That’s something.”
“Omigod, this is so unprofessional.” I swiped at my eyes. “But...it’s been a hell of a week.”
“I know.”
We just stood there for a minute, drawing strength from silence. Once I stopped crying I walked back to our chairs and sat. Bianca followed, sitting opposite me. “You said you weren’t sure you’d call it love,” I said finally. “You didn’t love Angus?”
“No. I thought I did, but it was just sex and...” Now Bianca’s eyes filled with tears. But if she didn’t love Angus, why? Were the tears for Riley?
“I know what it feels like to screw up a relationship,” I said. “And I think Riley will forgive you. Already forgives you.” Bianca nodded, but I could tell from her face that wasn’t why she was crying. “And I know what it feels like to be responsible for a...loss. To have caused an accident that took someone’s life aw
ay from him.”
“You do?” Bianca’s eyes searched the air for an explanation. “Omigod.” Her eyes met mine. “Your brother. Riley said he was...That he had...”
“A brain injury. From an accident I could have stopped.”
“Oh.” She let go a big breath. “Oh. Maybe you can understand. I am responsible for an accident, and probably a death—deaths. But not Angus’s.”
Chapter 61
“I found out about everything the night before Angus died,” Bianca said. “We’d made love here in the afternoon after one of his jousts, up on top of one of the turrets.”
“On top of a turret?”
“There’s a small flat space where we stand to release the birds. You’re hidden if you lie down, but it’s still sort of public so it feels dangerous and Angus liked—” She must have sensed my discomfort. “Anyway, that evening I realized that he’d left his helmet there, so I came back—thought I’d get it and drop it off at his RV before he had to joust again.”
“Or before anyone else found it.”
“Yeah. So I got here, but Angus was already here. But not to get his helmet. He was messing with Morgana there.” Bianca pointed at the sick bird’s cage. “She’s a gyrfalcon. She came here from a wildlife rescue place, like most of my birds, and I thought...I thought...” She took a deep breath. “Let me back up. Angus and I got together about six months ago. One of the things that drew us together, besides the sex, was the fact that he loved birds. He knew everything about them. Said he was working with the Winged Army, helping them find places where injured birds could be rehabbed before releasing them back to the wild.”
“The Winged Army is the wildlife rescue organization Hayden works with?”
Bianca nodded.
“And they’re ‘off the radar’ because...”
“They don’t want to be well known. Their methods are sometimes...unorthodox. Nothing really bad, but they might release a captive bird from time to time, without the permission of its ‘owner.’” She made air quotes. “Angus asked if I could help the cause, just keep a bird for a month or two. I was thrilled. He brought me five birds before Morgana.” She shook her head. “I should have suspected something. The birds all seemed healthy. He said it was just their final stop: a time to rest and get strong before being released. But...” Bianca’s tears started up again in earnest. She bit her bottom lip so hard I thought she might break the skin. “But then that night, I came back to get his helmet and found him...” She wiped her eyes. “Do you know what seeling is? With a double ‘e’?”
“...Yeah. The term’s used in Macbeth. Comes from when they used to train falcons by sewing their eyes...oh no.” I shut my eyes against the grisly sight I imagined.
Bianca struggled to talk, like she had to force the words out of her mouth. “At first I thought he was getting Morgana ready to go—I’d forgotten she was leaving that night. And he was getting her ready, but not for...He was holding her and she was too quiet, because Angus had already taped her up, even her beak. Used packing tape. I guess that way she’d fit into the mailing tube. ‘Hey, babe,’ Angus said when he saw me, like what he was doing was okay. ‘Morgana’s flying airmail.’
“I lost it, screaming my head off, and Edgar attacked Angus. Scratched him up pretty good. And with me screaming and Edgar shrieking and Angus yelling, well...somebody heard us. That...person pulled Edgar off Angus, but I couldn’t calm down. How many birds had he done this to? Do you know that only ten percent of birds smuggled like that survive? I helped Angus kill the birds. All those beautiful birds.” Bianca covered her face with her hands.
“You didn’t.” I stroked her bowed head. “You didn’t know. You were trying to help.”
She raised her head. “And then, while I’m standing there sobbing and trying not to scream, Angus had the balls to say, ‘So you found me out. I’ll give you both a cut.’ Like it was about money. Money.” She spit the word out.
“There was a lot of money involved?”
“I guess he got something like a hundred thousand per bird.”
“A hundred thousand?”
“Falcons are a big deal in Arabian countries. But Angus only got that if they were...alive on delivery. All those deaths were worth it to him if just one hundred-thousand-dollar-bird paid off.” She closed her eyes. “I was so stupid. All this time I thought we were doing something good together, that Angus actually cared about the birds...and about me.” She hugged her knees. “So much of this is my fault. I was pissed off at Riley for taking me for granted. I was beginning to think he was with me so he didn’t have to sleep in a tent. And then Angus started coming around, and he could be so...charming.”
Charming Bully.
“He’d sweep into the mews and sweep me up too, saying he needed me, right then, that he couldn’t stand to be without me one more minute...” Bianca swiped at her eyes. “It sounds stupid now, but it was so...I don’t know, wildly romantic, someone wanting you that much. But of course he didn’t.”
“He was just using you as a stopover for the birds, a cover for the smuggling.”
“And using me in other ways, too. And I fell for it. Stupid, stupid girl.”
“Not stupid. Human. Just human.”
“Stupid. And cowardly. Do you know why I didn’t turn him in? After he offered me the money and I spit in his face,”—I hoped she really had—“I told him I was turning him in. ‘Uh, uh, uh,’ he said, and smiled, actually smiled. I would have scratched that smile right off his face if...somebody didn’t hold me back. ‘You’re in this up to your eyeballs,’ Angus said. ‘As is the faire. Smuggling these babies is a federal offense. No one’s going believe that the people around here didn’t know, or that you didn’t help me. Enough people know we’re a couple. ‘Of course Bianca knew what we were doing,’ I’ll say in my defense. ‘It was fine with her until she found out I was seeing someone on the side.’ And yeah. I’ve already planted that seed—really enjoyed the planting, too. You may be good with birds, babe, but you suck in the sack. Or wait, maybe you’re not so good with birds. I mean, look at poor Morgana here. What a mess.’”
The words weren’t directed at me and still they felt like blows. “I would have killed him too.”
“I didn’t. I wanted to, but I didn’t. I was afraid.”
“So...you planned it with the somebody who found you two fighting?”
“No. It wasn’t like that. I didn’t plan anything, and Angus was never supposed to be—look, does it matter? It was an accident.”
“It wasn’t,” I said gently. “It was too well-coordinated.”
“It was. It was an accident, because it was never supposed to go that far. The person who did it didn’t know Angus was missing his gorget.”
“It was still here in the mews, from the night before?”
Bianca nodded. “The person was just protecting us, trying to make Angus leave. The bastard kept saying he was going to stick close to me—to us—to make sure we kept quiet, like he was going to blackmail us. And when I took Morgana away from him, he said I owed him. He was going to suck us all dry.”
“So you didn’t plan—”
“No. I found out about it later.” Bianca grabbed my shoulders. “It was an accident. It will never happen again.” Her nails dug into me. “The world is better off without Angus. No one misses Angus. No one. Please just leave it there. Please.”
Chapter 62
I left the mews and walked back to the parking lot through the dark fairegrounds. A white glow backlit the nearby mountains, making them look black and sharp. I felt muddled, like I’d been scrambled like an egg. I was sickened by Angus and sorry for Bianca and confused about what to do next. Bianca was right. No one missed Angus. The world was almost certainly better off without him. And lord I was tired. Tired of the investigation, tired of the stupid decisions I’d made, tired of it all.
The full
moon crept up over the mountains like a thief, stealing the warmth from the night. I shivered, even though it wasn’t cold. I should let it go, give up this investigation. No one cared that Angus was dead, and people obviously did care about whoever had inadvertently killed him. Which was...who? Who was the someone who saw what Angus had done, what he might still do?
I believed Bianca when she said she hadn’t done it, or even planned it. And I was pretty sure John Robert was only guilty of stealing ideas. But could Riley have been in on it? Possibly. Maybe he thought he’d get back in Bianca’s good graces. And it looked like he had—after all, she was the one who’d collected money for his bail.
Could William have been the jouster? Sure. He’d said something like “most of us who ride have jousted before,” and age aside I suspected he was in pretty good shape under those wizard robes.
Benjamin? Yes. He rode well enough to win the barrel racing competition and had a history with Angus. Plus, even if he wasn’t the someone who interrupted the scene at the mews, he could have found out about the bird smuggling from...
Hayden. Who rode so well it was as if he and the horse were one. Who loved birds so much that rescuing them was part of his life mission. Who must have known that Angus was using his beloved Winged Army as cover for smuggling. So, yeah, Hayden could have done it too. I had four suspects, all of whom I liked, all of whom seemed to be good men.
That was it. I was giving up. Cold blue moonlight cast twisted shadows through a nearby mesquite tree. I started walking to my truck, my moon shadow stretching grotesquely in front of me. I hated this. I hated giving up. It felt like failure, even when, as Bianca said, it wouldn’t happen again. There wouldn’t be any more violence. Angus was inadvertently killed because someone was protecting—
Protecting them. Bianca had said that someone was protecting the faire from Angus, who was going to “suck them dry.” Someone was kindly escorting the psychic vampire from their midst. William. It must be William.
