Bird Brain: A Polly Parrett Pet-Sitter Cozy Murder Mystery (Polly Parrett Pet Sitter Cozy Murder Mysteries)

by Liz Dodwell

  “Go to the car and lock yourself in while I check it out.”

  “I’m not going anywhere. There’s safety in numbers. Wait! Was that a dog whining?”

  Unsure of ourselves we hesitated then tentatively I called out, “Here puppy. Come here.”

  There was a whining and scrabbling before a brown dog came dashing into the room, all wriggly excitement and nervous apology.

  “Oh, you’re just a puppy.” I dropped to my knees and the delighted youngster rolled onto his back, exposing his belly for me to rub. “You’re so thin, you poor boy. How did you get in here?”

  “He’s with me.”

  My head snapped up at the sound of a strange voice, while Tyler jumped between me and the man standing in the doorway. “Who the heck are you?”

  The man’s clothes were garbage chic, like maybe fifty years ago they’d been considered quality. His face was masked behind a scruffy beard and he wore an old cap, which he pulled from his head and twisted nervously in his hands. “I didn’t break in. I knocked on the door to ask if there was work I could do and it was open, so I came inside…” His voice trailed off uncertainly and he turned away from us, unable to make eye contact.

  “And you expect us to believe that?” Tyler said. “I’m calling the police.”

  “No, please don’t. I didn’t mean any harm. I just wanted some food for me and my dog. If you call the police they’ll take him away. He’s the only friend I’ve got, please just let us go.”

  I was having a definite déjà vu moment. Glancing at Tyler it was apparent he was experiencing the same thing. It wasn’t so long ago we’d met Rooster and Elaine in an equally bizarre way. Except that this time there wasn’t a body. At least, I hope there’s no body.

  For reassurance I tucked my hand into Tyler’s. “Alright, we won’t call the cops - yet. But who are you and why should we let you go?”

  “Ma’am, I’m Delbert Forlong and this is Jack. We’ve been on the road together since I found him with his head stuck in a mayonnaise jar. That was back maybe a couple hundred miles ago. I figured he probably had a home nearby but he decided to come along with me instead. I guess I shoulda gone south, but I figured not many of us would come this way and I’d have more chance of work. That hasn’t happened. Fact is, it’s been real hard.”

  “You said ‘not many of us.’ Who’d you mean by that?”

  “Well, ma’am, I mean people who don’t have a real home to go to every night, so they wander from place to place.”

  “And why are you on the road?”

  Forlong hesitated, nervously running his hands over his thighs before telling his story.

  “I was twenty years in the air force, married, with beautiful twin daughters. My wife had been griping for years she’d had enough of the military lifestyle, so I let her persuade me to retire. Problem was, my background in military intelligence didn’t relate to anything in the civilian world. My wife’s job had been to take care of the home and kids and she didn’t think that should change, even though the girls were off to college. And that’s another thing, college fees will eat through your savings faster than you can believe.

  “So anyways, after a year, there was no money except my pension and whatever I could make odd-jobbing. We couldn’t meet the rent. I was forty-four and started smoking to calm my nerves, and the more my wife bitched about that the more I smoked. My girls wouldn’t speak to me ‘cause it looked like they’d have to drop out of school and they thought I’d let them down. They were right, of course. I had.” At this, the sadness emanating from him was almost palpable. It depressed the heck out of me.

  “What happened?”

  He sighed a deep shaking breath. “My wife went to live with her parents and they took over the college fees for the twins. I’m really grateful to them for that, though they completely shut me out of my girls’ lives. My pension goes to them; I just hope they know it.

  “For a while I stayed with different friends, ‘til I wore the friendship out. Then there was nothing left for me but to hit the road.”

  Tyler’s face was etched with concern as we exchanged glances.

  “Look,” Forlong went on in a pleading tone, “maybe you’ve got some work I can do for you. I don’t want anything for me, just a meal for Jack. I’ll do anything. Just don’t take him away.”

  Jack was leaning against me - you know the way some dogs do – and nudged my hand to remind me it was OK to scratch his ears. At any rate, it made my decision easy.

  “Delbert, it’s your lucky day.”

  It was decided that I would zip over to a nearby burger place to get some food (Tyler was still wary enough not to want me to be alone with our new acquaintance) while Delbert helped take room measurements. As I headed out to the car, Jack bounded along beside me.

  “No, puppy. You have to stay.”

  “It’s OK,“ Delbert said. “He’s seems to have taken a shine to you.”

  I’m always happy to be in the company of a dog so I opened the back door of Tyler’s Subaru and lifted Jack in. Of course, as soon as I sat in the driver’s seat he clawed his way to the front and onto my lap.

  “Ah, ah!” Firmly I set him in the passenger seat and gave him “the look,” the one that means, “I’m in charge and you’d better stay right there.” He wagged his tail happily and did just that. “Well, I’ll be. You’re a pretty smart little guy.” And off we went.

  “I’ll take a double quarter pounder, plain, and three Big Mac meals with coffee.”

  “Ju..yun..dream..that?” Huh? I hate these drive-through speaker systems but after several repeat attempts figured out I was being asked if I needed cream for the coffees.

  “Better give me a few, please.”

  I drove round to the pick-up window. Jack could barely contain himself as his nose picked up the scent of grilling beef, and his boney little body was shaking in anticipation. I held out some money as the cashier opened the window. “That was a double Quarter Pounder, three Big Mac meals and three coffees with two creams,” she said.

  Two creams? “No, I said a few creams.”

  “Hold on.” The woman turned away to grab the order, at which time the excitement was just too much for Jack. He launched himself across my body and through the open windows. The cashier shrieked like a banshee. Whoever was on the receiving end of the speaker probably burst an eardrum. Instinctively I grabbed for Jack and got a hold of his tail so that he ended up with his head and shoulders in the drive-through window, his rear end in the car, and legs scrabbling frantically for leverage to keep going. I was losing my grip on him when a muscular arm reached around the pup’s middle and pulled him, squirming, to safety. A voice I recognized said, “Pfui!” and immediately Jack was still.

  From a car behind me a voice called out, “Hey, thanks lady. I’ll be putting this on youtube,” and I saw a cell phone pointed in my direction. Great.

  Inside the restaurant the cashier was still in hysterics and being supported by a couple of her co-workers.

  “Sorry, sorry,” I said before looking up into the laughing face of Mat Abaroa.

  “Why don’t you pull over so these other people can get their orders.” He waved vaguely at the line of cars and curious onlookers building up behind me. Hurriedly, I found a parking space and wondered how much trouble I was in.

  The passenger door opened and Mat set Jack down beside me.

  “Mat, you must think I’m a terminal idiot. Things just seem to happen to me. Do you think they’ll call the police?”

  “Lock the dog in the car for just a couple minutes and let’s go find out.”

  He was still grinning and his solid presence helped put me a little at ease, especially when he put his arm round my shoulders. None-the-less, I was pretty worried.

  “Why am I not surprised that you have something to do with this?” The woman who spoke had directed her words to Mat and she stood, arms akimbo, hip hiked and head tilted questioningly.

  “Hey, Sky, this is Polly Parrett
. Polly, meet Skyler Abaroa, who just happens to be my wonderful sister-in-law,” and he gave me a sideways wink.

  Back at the house – I suppose I should say my house – I related my tale of woe while we ate our food sitting on an ugly old yellow-checked sofa. I’d let Jack have a burger before we left the restaurant parking lot; the pooch was half-starved after all. Unfortunately, there was now a rather ugly grease stain on the car seat – the car that Tyler drove his clients in! I hadn’t broken that news to him yet.

  “You’re sure there won’t be any trouble?” Delbert wasn’t convinced that Mat had smoothed everything over. In fact, Sky had laughed herself silly about it, commenting she hoped the restaurant would be mentioned in the youtube video. Even the cashier, Maude, once she calmed down went out to meet Jack and pronounced him “Adorable.”

  “How lucky was it that Mat happened to be there?” Tyler said.

  “And that the owners happen to be Mat’s brother and sister-in-law.”

  “We should invite him and Jake out to dinner sometime.”

  I lifted the corner of my lip in a little smile. “Mat would certainly like that. He did ask me to give his best to ‘that really cute boyfriend’ of mine.”

  I wasn’t sure, but it looked as if Tyler began to blush. He covered it by jumping up and announcing that it was time we took our new friends to Welcome Home. We’d thoroughly looked over the house and gathered all the information needed, so we piled into the car - me first, plopping my butt on the stain – and joined the traffic heading to Mallowapple.

  Six

  Several weeks had passed since Delbert, or Del, as he preferred, had taken up residence at Welcome Home. The guys were making progress on converting the second of two old stable buildings to a bunkhouse; Polly (the parrot, that is) was thriving under Mike’s care; and Jack had taken to eating the catnip-filled socks I made for the cats. Twice he’d had to be rushed to the vet and Mom was putting pressure on Del to make more effort to train him.

  “Honestly, Polly, he’s a nice man but he doesn’t seem to have much connection with the dog.” Through the phone Mom’s frustration was evident in her voice. “As for house-training, Jack’s definitely all boy and I’m tired of picking up his messes.”

  “I’m sorry, Mom. I’ll talk to Del. That’s his responsibility.” I’d noticed, too that Jack didn’t seem as bonded to Del as I would have expected.

  “Something definitely needs to be done before he turns into a complete terror. Can’t you spend some time training him?”

  “I’ll try and get out there more, Mom, but it’s Del who really needs training. He’s got to learn to be more attentive and consistent. Anyway, enough of that for now, I want to talk to you about the furniture from the house.

  “The estate sale company aren’t interested in it. They said no-one will buy it because it’s so dated and I should just have it hauled away. Tyler got a call from a company who clear out homes for a fee. He said he’d get back to them but they’ve been pretty aggressive, said they’d waive the fee, and finally even offered to pay him something for the stuff. But here’s my thought. How about we use it for the bunkhouse? It’s all really solid and I bet with a bit of paint and some fixing up Rooster could work his magic on it.”

  “That’s a great idea, honey, and we can store it in the horse barn for now.”

  The third barn on the property was a working horse barn, with three rescued horses in residence. Mom gave riding lessons, which she loved, and it brought in enough income to cover the cost of caring for the animals.

  Anyway, it was arranged that Rooster, Mike and Del would use a rental truck to pick up everything a couple of days later and transport it to the barn. I’d intended to throw my weight into the mix but, of course, life got in the way and I had to fill in for a crew member with a sick baby and take over her pet sits. Amazingly, the move went well without me (OK, I’m being sarcastic) and, talking to Rooster on the phone the next morning, I was heartened at his enthusiasm for our “treasure.”

  “You know, the old lady invested in some real quality items. It’s a shame people don’t appreciate it these days. Some of that furniture will be around long after your grandchildren.”

  “I’m a long way off from having grandchildren.”

  “Exactly.”

  Ignoring the dig I told Rooster I would be at the home in another day or two. “I’m swamped with work right now but you and I should take an inventory of everything as soon as we can. And I promised Mom I’d talk to Del sometime soon.”

  “Good luck with that. We don’t know where he is.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Jack was barking like crazy in Del’s room early this morning. I looked in, thinking something might be wrong, and Del was gone. Looked like his bed hadn’t been slept in.”

  “That’s pretty strange.”

  “Maybe not. For people like us,” he meant homeless people, “transitioning to a more normal life, especially with any sort of family, isn’t always easy. You get used to open spaces and being alone and sometimes the urge to get away can be really powerful.”

  “But surely he wouldn’t leave Jack?”

  “That’s one of the things that does puzzle me.”

  “One of the things! What else is on your mind?”

  “Well, he left a pack of smokes on the nightstand. A lot of homeless people smoke; maybe most of them. And though you might think it’s crazy to burn money up that way when you can’t even afford to eat, the fact is that sometimes a cigarette can seem like your only friend. I can’t see Del going off and leaving his smokes.”

  Now I was feeling a nagging concern. “So Del left both his friends – his dog and his cigarettes. What do you think we should do?”

  “Mike and I took a look around the property and I don’t think there’s anything else we can do just yet except wait. Your mom said if he doesn’t show by this evening we’ll call the sheriff.”

  There was really nothing I could add to that and if I didn’t get going I’d be late for my first appointment. So we said our farewells and I dashed off to walk a little charmer of a dog, a black and white fluffball named Boo. But I couldn’t quite get rid of that troubling feeling in the pit of my stomach.

  Seven

  Paperwork was strewn across the table. I was immersed in updating the time sheets when the first shot “popped” and something flew by me just nicking my ear. I threw myself to the floor as I heard more popping sounds. Amber streaked past while the dogs all jumped up in excitement at the new game I was playing. “Down,” I shrieked, terrified one of them would be seriously hurt.

  In moments it was over but I lay still trying to get my mind around what had just happened and to allow my frantically beating heart to slow down. Then something white and squishy plopped onto the floor beside me. I jerked back. Oh my God. Had one of the cats been hit?

  I couldn’t seem to get my brain to work until I smelled burning and jolted into action. Grabbing the fire extinguisher from its hook in the kitchen I hosed down the torched pan in which I’d been boiling eggs. Oh, boy! This was embarrassing. My intent had been to make deviled eggs for Tyler – one of his favorites – but I’d forgotten the pot was on the range. The popping sound was the eggs exploding as they boiled dry. The detritus of the explosion had been launched around the kitchen and was now stuck to the walls and even the ceiling.

  Of course, that was when Tyler walked in. His jaw dropped. The dogs did their best to give him a warm greeting but they were pretty busy eating bits of egg off the floor.

  “Deviled eggs,” I said in a whisper, and burst into tears.

  Realization showed on Tyler’s face and he took two quick steps to me and swept me into his arms. I would have felt much better except he couldn’t stop laughing.

  “Honey, nobody could ever say life is boring around you.”

  The pizza was delicious. Tyler had even ordered it with anchovies for me and helped clean up while we waited for delivery. I was going to have to do a little t
ouching up with paint on the walls and ceiling, and suffice it to say I wouldn’t be cooking anything in the immediate future, though Tyler thought the range could be saved to work another day.

  Mom had phoned to let us know there was still no sign of Del, and Rooster had been in touch with Sheriff Wisniewski.

  “The Sheriff said we could stop by the office tomorrow to file a report if he doesn’t show up by then.”

  She went on to say Jack was driving her nuts with his bad behavior so I promised to pick him up in the morning and keep him with me for the day.

  “Come for breakfast,” Mom said.

  “You won’t be having boiled eggs, will you?”

  “We can, dear, if you want them.”

  “No, no,” I said hastily. “I prefer mine fried.”

  After we’d finished eating, Tyler was all business. He opened his laptop and pulled up a spreadsheet.

  “Come and take a look. I want you to see where we are with your house.”

  Obediently I flopped onto the sofa, leaning into him, and peered at the screen.

  “I went ahead and had a home inspection done. This is the report. You’ll see there are no major problems. A few light fixtures need to be changed and some of the plumbing should be updated, otherwise this is really good and the house is solid.”

  I read through everything line by line even though some of it meant nothing to me. Ridge and fascia boards were not in my vocabulary, and muntins and mullions were a mystery. Still, if Tyler was happy then I was happy and I said so.

  “It gets better,” he said. “The inspector owes me a few favors so he did it for no charge.”

  “Yes!” I said and we high-fived.

  “Moving on,” Tyler switched to another screen. “We already talked about the house needing paint inside and out, and replacing the carpeting. Now, I know your thought was to have Rooster, Mike and Del do as much of the work as possible, but hear me out. The guys already have a lot on their plates at Welcome Home. Bringing them over here will take them away from that work, which I’m not sure you want to do. Also, who knows how long they’d need to get everything done?