Bickering Birds (Cozy Corgi Mysteries Book 3)

by Mildred Abbott

  “We’ll do that.” She gave a sharp nod, walked away, and lifted her hand over her shoulder and snapped her fingers. Sure enough, nearly as one, her disciples followed, Paulie giving a little wave as he passed.

  There was one straggler who caught my arm and paused in place. “Don’t let her push you around. Everyone thinks Myrtle Bantam is all about the environment, bird activism, and philanthropy, but I promise you, she’s in it for the power. Nothing more.”

  I met the man’s hard gaze. I hadn’t seen him before. He was middle-aged and rather nondescript, but the anger in his eyes was almost alarming. “Well, I’m not sure about all that, but I know that I’m especially passionate about my corgi, and I assume Myrtle feels the same about birds.” I considered myself a very good corgi mama, but I had no doubt I couldn’t hold a candle to Myrtle’s passion. Probably about anything.

  He shook his head. “No. It’s not about the birds. It’s about power. The woman is an insane tyrant.”

  I couldn’t imagine what power she got from leading a bird club, although she did seem in control of most of her members, but I had to admit she did seem a touch insane. I had no idea what to say to the man.

  “Don’t get on her bad side. I promise you. She’ll—”

  A large hand seemed to arrive out of nowhere and dropped onto the man’s shoulder, silencing him. “Henry, would you care to join the rest of us for some pastries?”

  I glanced toward the voice and met the gaze of another rather nondescript man, though I guessed this one to be around sixty as opposed to middle-aged. He smiled, lifted his hand from Henry’s shoulder, and held it out to me. “I’m Silas Belle I don’t think we’ve had the pleasure of meeting.”

  I shook his hand. “Nice to meet you. I’m Fred.”

  “I know. We’re actually neighbors.”

  My little cabin was out in the woods, so much so that when I was in it, I felt the rest of the world had faded away. Then I remembered the new development of McMansions that had popped up on the road leading back into my woods. It was a stretch to call those my neighbors, but I supposed they were the closest thing I had to it.

  For a second, it threw me off that Silas knew where I lived, but then I remembered that I was no longer in the city. In this small town, everyone knew everything about everyone else. Doubly true about the woman who moved into town, opened the bookshop, and helped solve two murders.

  “Well, thanks for dropping by, neighbor.” It was a silly thing to say, but at this point trying to find anything sensible seemed like entirely too much effort, or simply impossible.

  “Anytime.” Silas gave another smile, then turned to Henry. “Dessert?”

  Henry flashed me a glance that said he hadn’t been done ranting but followed as Silas led him away.

  I watched them go. And to my relief, as they walked up the steps, Watson passed them on his way down. He spotted me as he reached the bottom and scurried over to be petted. Kneeling, I scratched both his sides, eliciting a small cloud of dog hair. “You knew I needed you, didn’t you, buddy?” This night definitely had not gone how I’d envisioned. The bookshop truly was perfection, but…. People were much more complicated than any Sherlock Holmes book could ever be. Suddenly I couldn’t wait to have a quick dinner with Katie and then go back home, light a fire, and read a book with Watson at my feet.

  “Oh my goodness!” A loud screech caused Watson and me to stiffen, and I looked toward the voice. A large blonde woman towered over us. “This must be the corgi that your store is named after? Wilbur, right?”

  “Watson, actually. From Sherlock Holmes. Wilbur was the pig in Charlotte’s Web. Though, with the bakery upstairs, it’s only a matter of time.”

  As the woman knelt to pet him, Watson shot me a glare. Maybe because he’d understood my jibe, or because I was clearly expecting him to allow a stranger to pet him. Or more likely, both.

  Well, whatever. It was opening night, might as well make it awkward for both of us.

  “Can you believe this? We’ve only been open for a hot minute, and I already have my first catered event.” Katie beamed at me, and her excitement was so genuine I almost felt guilty for the negative things I’d been thinking. “And if they like them, maybe they’ll have me do this every week. At least that’s what Myrtle mentioned.”

  “Katie, there’s no question they’re going to like what you make. Your baking is perfect. Always.” I shifted the large box of pastries to my other hand, managing to readjust the handle of Watson’s leash without dropping anything as I reached for the front door to Wings of the Rockies. “My guess is that you’ll get so many offers for catering events you’re going to have to start turning them down.”

  Katie walked through, carrying twice as many pastries as me, a tweeting chime sounding overhead. “You know, I’d be okay with that. I was already thinking I might need to hire an assistant.”

  I waited for Watson and then followed her through the door. I was about to say I’d been thinking the same thing about the bookshop, but my words fell away as thirteen faces turned to look at us. I’d been in Myrtle’s shop once before, and it had been a mishmash of birdfeeders, birdhouses, books, and countless things I couldn’t identify. But it had seemed rather informal. Apparently that wasn’t true on the nights the Feathered Friends Brigade met. The center of the space had been cleared, and rows of chairs had been set out, all facing a large pull-down screen. Myrtle stood in front, between the two rows of chairs, with her arms outstretched, having obviously been interrupted in midsentence.

  Her gaze flicked to Watson, and her lips thinned.

  The two of them hadn’t exactly bonded the night before when Myrtle came to inspect my supply of bird books, but there hadn’t been any open hostility either. From either of them. And things had gone smoother between Myrtle and myself than I’d anticipated as well. I’d not even thought twice about having Watson tag along to the bird club. It seemed that had been an overestimation on my part.

  If my hands hadn’t been full, I would’ve checked the time on my cell. “I’m so sorry! I was under the impression the meeting got started at seven.” Katie and I had arrived with fifteen minutes to spare, or so I’d thought.

  “We like to get started early.” She motioned to a cleared spot on the counter close to the cash register. “If you’ll place those there and then find a seat, we’ll continue.”

  Katie and I arranged the pastries quickly and then looked toward the group. There were no chairs. The man from two nights ago stood, hurried over to a closet, and got two more folding chairs out for us. Surprisingly, I was able to remember his name by the time he brought them over. “Thank you, Silas.”

  “Of course! Glad you all can join us. It’s rare we have visitors unless we’re actively seeking enrollment.”

  “Which we’re not. We are currently full.” Myrtle gave what I thought was supposed to be a smile. “But we do consider it a part of outreach to have visitors. One never knows what might spark a passion for ornithology in someone.” She waited for Katie and me to take our seats. “We were getting ready to start the awarding of badges. It’s always one of the first orders of business.” I could quite literally see her debating how much she wanted to explain. It seemed Myrtle was feeling gracious, or maybe she and I had bonded more than I’d realized the night before. “We have five categories for which members compete for honors.” She numbered them off on her fingers as she listed the categories. “Having experiences with the rarest bird, with photographic evidence of course, while obviously not infringing upon the bird’s space. Capturing sounds of rare birds. Having raised the most money for conservation for the week. Demonstrating impressive ornithological knowledge. And an adept ability at replicating birdcalls without the aid of electronic assistance.”

  “I always get that one!” Carl grinned and waved a chubby hand in our direction, earning himself a glare from Myrtle.

  Myrtle cleared her throat. “If we’re done with interruptions, I assume it’s safe for me to commence.” She
didn’t wait for a response. “Did anyone travel this week and have any images to share with the club?”

  “Like we don’t already know.” The mutter was low enough that I thought I was the only one who heard, and I dared to look over. Henry met my gaze and rolled his eyes.

  “I spent a couple of days last week traveling over southern Australia.” Silas stood and walked toward the front, handing Myrtle a flash drive. He continued speaking as she put it into her laptop. She clicked a few buttons and an image of a little green bird with blue wings appeared on the screen. “The orange-bellied parrot was quite captivating, so much so that I nearly extended my stay simply to spend more time watching it in its natural environment.”

  The quiet groan to my right at Silas’s announcement was once again too quiet for most to hear, and I didn’t need to look over to see that Henry was having another reaction.

  “Don’t forget to announce what camera you used to capture that image, Silas.” A handsome younger man spoke from Katie’s left.

  Silas let out a good-natured laugh. “Of course, Benjamin. For this trip, I took my Nikon D500 DSLR. It did a perfect job, as you can see.”

  Benjamin halfway stood, addressing the club. “Remember that all members of the Feathered Friends Brigade get ten percent off all camera equipment at my store.”

  “Benjamin! We’ve talked about this. I’m not running an advertising group here.” Myrtle’s lips thinned further to a near birdlike point, and then she motioned to Silas. “Sorry for the interruption, please continue.”

  Silas began listing different facts about the orange-bellied parrot as well as details about where he stayed for his two days in Australia. Katie leaned close to me, her curly hair tickling my cheek as she whispered, “He traveled all the way to Australia and only stayed two days? Who can afford that?”

  Myrtle cleared her throat and cast a glare in our direction. I didn’t respond to Katie, she obviously hadn’t noticed the gathering of mini-mansions on the way to my house. From the looks of them, several of the occupants could afford such a trip. Especially those whose mansions weren’t all that mini. At the end of his speech, once Myrtle was assured no one else had any images to share that they thought might outdo Silas’s, she handed him a brightly colored badge. It seemed to match at least ten other badges already affixed to his vest.

  Next came the badge for captured sounds. A middle-aged woman named Alice also handed Myrtle a flash drive, and then a moan-like chirp filled the space. She too gave a little speech about whatever bird was making the noise, but instead of listening, I was distracted once more by Henry’s reaction. Making sure Myrtle’s attention was fixed on Alice, I glanced around the group. It seemed Henry wasn’t the only one annoyed. And when Alice was awarded a different badge, judging from her vest, it was once again clear she was a common recipient of that particular achievement. As she spoke, it seemed obvious she wasn’t as confident in her facts as Silas had been. I couldn’t help but wonder if Alice was cheating somehow, though I couldn’t imagine Myrtle allowing such a thing to occur in her club.

  A man named Owen won the badge for raising the most money for bird conservation over the previous week. It was the second badge on his vest. Even so, Henry let out another quietly disgusted sound. The man seemed to despise everyone in the club. It didn’t make any sense for him to be there. I dared another glance. There were no badges on his vest.

  “Now for my favorite part of the evening, we will see if anyone can earn the badge for knowledge of our feathered friends.” Myrtle clicked a few buttons on her laptop, before diving into her first question.

  Beside me, Katie shifted in her seat in apparent anticipation.

  “We’ll start with an easy one.” As she spoke, Myrtle’s voice took on the tone of the teacher and sounded the least birdlike I’d ever heard from her. “True or false, an ostrich sticks its head in the sand because of fright.”

  Before anyone could respond, Katie’s hand shot up into the air so hard that she nearly threw herself from the chair.

  Myrtle flinched, her eyes widening. She swallowed, like she was debating what to do, and then she offered a forced smile. “Normally nonmembers don’t participate, as they are not eligible to win badges, but we’ll make an exception this time. What say you, Miss Pizzolato?”

  “That is false.”

  Myrtle’s smile turned a little more genuine. “You are correct. Although that is a fairly sensible response. In truth—”

  “They stick their head in the ground to look for water.”

  I turned to gape at Katie, shocked and a little impressed that she’d interrupt Myrtle Bantam. It was like being back in grade school and the class know-it-all dared to correct the mean substitute teacher.

  For her part, Myrtle didn’t seem offended in the least. “Very true! I must say I’m impressed. Though the next won’t be quite so easy.” She checked her computer screen. “The bassian thrush has an unusual way of—”

  Katie’s hand shot in the air again, this time causing Myrtle to look annoyed. “They use flatulence to lure out their prey. They aim at where they suspect the worms will be and… well… fart….” Katie blushed. “It disturbs the worms, causing them to make their location known.”

  Myrtle blinked, and several of the members turned to stare at Katie.

  Almost begrudgingly, Myrtle nodded. “True enough. Although in the future, I appreciate being able to finish the question.” She didn’t wait for a response before launching into the next. “There’s a bird that dyes its feathers, much like many of you dye your hair—” She flinched as Katie’s hand jutted skyward once more, but kept going. “They do this by staining their feathers with red mud. What is this particular bird species?”

  Katie waved her hand, and Myrtle looked around at the other members of the club, clearly hoping one of them would save her. No one did. With the sound of defeat, she gave a nod in Katie’s direction. “Yes, Miss Pizzolato?”

  “It’s the lammergeier, more commonly known as the bearded vulture. And it doesn’t start that particular behavior until around the age of seven years old.”

  Everyone, me included, gaped at Katie.

  She shrugged. “Well, they do.”

  Just as I was wondering what other levels of savant knowledge my new best friend possessed, I realized what had happened. As Myrtle checked her screen again, I leaned into Katie. “You entered the Google wormhole about birds last night, didn’t you?”

  She looked at me like that was the dumbest question anyone had ever asked. “Well, of course I did. I knew we were coming here. I wanted to be informed.”

  I loved that Katie was such a peculiar woman at times.

  “This is our final question. I must say, I’m curious if any of the actual Feathered Friends Brigade will be able to get anything correct this evening, or if you all will be shown up by our caterer.” Seeming a little shaken, Myrtle sighed. “This particular species is being driven almost to extinction through poaching because of its red ivory bill.” She didn’t bother to look surprised as Katie’s hand shot up again. Although she did seek the faces of her club members with a desperate expression. Finally her gaze landed on Silas. “Surely you know this.”

  “I believe I do, yes. But I’m fascinated.” Silas nodded but smiled at Katie. “Tell us, Katie. Can you prove to be as much of an expert on birds as you are at baking?”

  This time, Katie’s cheeks were a vibrant red as she spoke. “It’s the helmeted hornbill. And on the black market, their beaks are more expensive than elephant ivory.”

  “Well done!” Silas clapped, and within a couple of moments, the rest of the group joined in.

  Katie looked like she was in heaven.

  “She’s cheating. Her friend is looking things up on the phone and whispering to her.” Henry stood, glaring at Katie and me in something akin to hate. “You two will fit in perfectly here.”

  To my surprise, both Carl and Paulie stood up, but it was Paulie who spoke first. “Fred would never do that! She’s
the most honest and kindest person I know. There’s been no one in town who’s been nicer to me than her.”

  Guilt cut through me at his words. I did consider myself fairly honest, but I hadn’t always had the kindest thoughts about Paulie.

  Myrtle clapped her hands, surprisingly able to make quite a loud noise, considering how thin and bony they were. “None of this! Not in my club. Ever!” She pointed at Henry. “Keep yourself under control, or I will expel you from the club and we will have an opening after all. I will not warn you again.”

  Henry turned every bit as red as Katie had moments before, looking like he was about ready to burst, but then, to my surprise, sat down and clasped his hands together in his lap.

  Myrtle glared at him a few extra seconds, then motioned for Katie to come forward. “As I said, nonmembers are excluded from earning badges, but—” She unfastened a pin similar to the ones I’d noticed her wear the past two nights, this one in the shape of a hummingbird. “—take this.”

  “Oh no, I can’t. That’s much too nice. I wasn’t trying to win anything.”

  Myrtle thrust the pin into Katie’s hand. “I insist. And the next time we have an opening in the club”—she cast a quick glare at Henry—“you have a standing invitation to join.”

  Katie squeezed back into the seat beside me, most uncomfortable. “I was trying to enjoy the quiz. I wasn’t attempting to cause drama.”

  “I know. There seems to be some other dynamic going on here besides you being good at trivia.”

  Myrtle cleared her throat, casting an annoyed glare in my direction, and then continued. Next came the badge for birdcalls. I inspected Katie’s new pin as multiple people stood and made strange noises. I was thankful for the distraction of the pin as I found it rather embarrassing to hear adults attempting to sound like birds. As for the pin, it was beautiful—and obviously expensive. The casing was silver, and the details were crafted in a mosaic of glossy stones. Myrtle must truly have been impressed to offer such a reward. By the time I handed the pin back to Katie, Carl was accepting his badge for the best birdcall of the evening.