I wondered how Mr. Fancy Pants would've felt about Cookie…
"How do they fly?" the director asked.
Betty blurted it out before being called upon. "They glide on air currents!"
This was a serious breach in protocol. And the girls made their displeasure known immediately by shouting. Mr. Fancy Pants cocked his head from one side to the other, and this made Dr. Wulf nervous.
Kelly saved the day with the Girl Scout quiet sign, and the girls immediately clammed up.
"I apologize," I said to Dr. Wulf. "They mean well. They're just very excited to be here."
I turned and gave the girls an icy death stare, which they promptly ignored.
The executive director smiled and handed the rest of the cards out to the rest of the girls. Sometimes, the simplest solutions are the best.
"I'm so glad you girls are excited. My specialty in college was birds. I'm excited that he's here too." She patted Kelly on the arm. "Does anyone have any questions for me?"
Lauren raised her hand. "Do they lay eggs?" The doctor was about to answer when Lauren asked another question. "And do they throw up in their chicks' mouths?"
A round of ewwwwws went up around the table, but this didn't stop those very same girls from waiting expectantly for the answer.
The director laughed. "Yes, they lay eggs. And yes, they regurgitate food for the chick until the baby is old enough to eat on its own."
"Why is he bald?" Hannah the second asked.
"That's a great question! It's so the sun can shine on his head, taking all the bad bacteria out of the carrion when he eats."
Only one hand went up this time.
"Would Mr. Fancy Pants," Ava asked, "eat me if I was dead?"
Kelly groaned. I thought it was a fair question.
"Did he eat the two zookeepers with the cookies?" Inez asked.
"Yes," Dr. Wulf answered. "If you were on the jungle floor in South America and you were dead, he'd eat you." She turned to Inez. "And no, he didn't eat the zookeepers. They work with the bears now. It's much safer."
Betty raised her hand. "What would he start with, if he was to eat Ava, if she was dead in South America?"
Kelly opened her mouth, but I shook my head at her. While I had no problem with Ava, I was curious about the question.
Dr. Wulf frowned. "I think he'd start with the eyes."
A huge cheer went up, causing the vulture to bob and weave. He was getting agitated. Would he jump on the girls blindly?
Dr. Wulf brought her finger to her lips to shush the girls, who immediately went quiet. "If you can be calm, I'll take his hood off."
The nodding around the table was so vigorous I was worried the girls' heads were going to pop off. Dr. Wulf walked over to the large bird and lifted off his hood.
If you've never seen a king vulture before, it's a bit startling. With a purple and black head, googly eyes usually going in different directions, a bright orange and yellow neck, and a bright orange wattle dangling over its beak, you'd probably think you'd stepped into something a three-year-old painted.
Mr. Fancy Pants looked around the room, causing a hushed gasp among the girls.
"King vultures," Dr. Wulf said quietly, "have astounding eye sight. They can spot carrion from very high up in the sky."
The bird continued to fix his stare on each and every girl. Sometimes on two girls at once. Sometimes on two girls at opposite ends of the table at once.
"Some scientists believe," the director continued, "that they have a keen sense of smell also. That they use this to find their dinner."
Uh-oh. I clutched my purse a little tighter. And that's when the bird's eyes turned to me.
"But, we don't know if that's true or not. And as long as none of you has any cookies on you, we probably won't."
Yep. His eyes were definitely locked on to mine. For a moment his gaze flickered to my purse, then back up to me. I'd say those scientists were right. The girls noticed he was staring at me.
Mr. Fancy Pants extended his wings once more.
"Fancy Pants"—Dr. Wulf pointed—"has a five-foot wingspan. King vultures are the largest vultures on the planet." She looked at the bird and frowned.
"Merry…" Kelly said quietly. "You didn't bring anything with you, did you?" She'd carefully avoided the word cookies.
"I should probably step out for a moment," I said as I turned to make my way to the door.
The vulture's eyes followed me. He knew!
"Ms. Wrath," Dr. Wulf said. "Don't go. It'll only set him off. Hand me the you-know-what."
Very slowly I reached into my purse and pulled out the blue box. Fancy Pants' eyes grew wide, and he started to bob up and down. I walked toward him, opening the box as I went. I'm not sure if vultures can drool, but it looked like something was happening.
The vulture now made direct eye contact with the box, staring as if he was using the Force to bring it to him. I popped out one of the sleeves of cookies and opened it, laying half of the cookies at his feet before handing the rest to Dr. Wulf and stepping back.
Birds of prey tear into their food with their sharp beaks. And they look cool doing so. Mr. Fancy Pants was no different. Using his beak to break the cookies, he guzzled them down like the naughty kid who's afraid they will be taken from him if he doesn't.
It was impressive. The bird had gone into the sugar-buzz zone, and I could've sworn once or twice his eyes rolled back in his head.
Dr. Wulf watched him carefully, tucking the box and its remaining sleeve into a drawer. She made no move to stop him or chastise me, which was nice. Maybe I could "adopt" the bird—donate a few hundred dollars for his upkeep. I'd noticed a sign on the way in where you could adopt the giraffes, the sloth, the wolves, or the hissing cockroaches.
Why not the king vulture?
The cookie orgy was over as Mr. Fancy Pants scooped up every last crumb. The girls cheered quietly, causing him to look them over again. Then, he turned his gaze once more onto me.
Within a second his wings opened up, and he'd jumped from his roost and was running across the table toward me.
"He still thinks you have cookies!" I heard one of the girls shout.
Dr. Wulf was right behind him, trying to make a grab, but missed. Mr. Fancy Pants stopped mere inches from my face. He leaned in, as if looking into my soul. His eyes went down to my purse then up to me. He did this two more times. I knew what that meant.
Because I have two cats who do the same thing. And I did to this bird what I did to them when they looked at me like that. I shrugged.
The giant raptor stepped back for a second as if he didn't believe me and was sizing me up as a potential snack. I opened my purse and held it out to him. He stuck his head inside and began rooting around for the cookies. When he didn't find them, he stopped, his head still inside the bag.
Finally, he pulled his head out. A pen was in his beak. After giving me a look that I think he thought would chill me to the bone, the vulture took the pen, wandered back across the table, and got back onto his perch.
"Okay, ladies!" Dr. Wulf said brightly. "Let's all get up slowly and file out the door, okay?"
The girls reluctantly did what she asked, and Kelly followed. I was right behind her when I stopped to look back at the bird. He wasn't on his perch.
Instead, he was at the drawer where Dr. Wulf had stashed the cookies. He inserted the pen into the rectangular drawer pull and tugged. The drawer opened, and he snagged the box and went back to his perch.
"It's amazing, isn't it?" Dr. Wulf said. "I think maybe those scientists are right…he can smell the cookies."
A woman dressed in coveralls joined us in the room. Dr. Wulf gave her a nod and whispered a few words to her before ushering me out to where the girls were now ogling the giant aquarium.
"I'm sorry about that," I said. "Really. My mind hasn't been right lately, and I've gotten very little sleep…"
Dr. Wulf waved me off. "It's okay. No one got hurt, and you all signed waiv
ers absolving us of any issues anyway."
We did?
"Would it be possible for me to adopt him?" I asked her. "Donate money every month for his upkeep?"
Dr. Wulf stared at me. "That's a great idea! And very generous!"
I gave her my cell number and email address, and she promised to look into it. We herded the girls into the parking lot and waited for their parents to pick them up.
"That went well, I think," I said to Kelly.
She sighed. "I can't believe you brought those cookies. What were you thinking?"
I shrugged but didn't answer. Mostly because I wasn't sure myself. The parents arrived all at once, and after getting the right girls to the right cars—something more difficult with the Kaitlyns—we headed to Kelly's van. That's when I noticed a vehicle slowly driving by.
Kelly squinted. "Do you think that woman looks like Rex?"
Ronni was alone, driving a nondescript van and staring at the zoo. Against my own better judgment, I waved her down. She responded by scowling and racing off.
"Do you think she does taxidermy for the zoo?" I asked as I got into Kelly's car. "I haven't heard of an animal dying in years."
"Maybe she's going to knock one off so she can stuff it," Kelly said.
My future sister-in-law was casing the zoo and possibly plotting against the animals there. That was disturbing.
CHAPTER NINE
The route back to my house took us by the city park. It was chilly and starting to drizzle, but Pam Fontana was sitting on a park bench. There weren't any kids around. She was just sitting there, on the bench, in the rain.
"Pull over," I demanded.
"Why?" Kelly asked as she pulled her car into a parking spot.
I didn't answer. Something was happening. I just didn't know what it was.
Kelly squinted. "Is that Pam? What's she doing there?"
I nodded. "That's what I was wondering." I told Kelly about my late-night activities of watching the couple.
She looked at me, stunned. "You've completely lost your mind." Kelly reached for the ignition, but I stopped her.
"Something weird is going on there. The body they carried into the house, the sniper rifle and hatchet…it doesn't make sense."
"Do you think you're projecting these suspicions because you miss work?" Kelly asked.
Her words hit me like a brick wall.
"What? No!" At least, I didn't think so.
"Maybe you should see Susan. She's the counselor at the hospital, and she's good."
"I am not seeing a counselor. I'm not crazy."
"Fine. I'll be your counselor." She turned on the car and turned up the heater. "You're getting married. It's a lot to handle. I don't blame you for going nuts."
"You think I'm going nuts?"
She looked at Pam Fontana for a second and then back at me. "Yes. I think you've lost it."
"That's so unfair!" I whined.
"Is it?" Kelly asked. "You can't sleep. You're forgetting things. You're hallucinating…"
"I am not hallucinating!" I hissed. "The stuff I've seen is real! Ask Philby!"
She sighed. "And now you're using your cat as a witness."
Pam Fontana checked her watch before scowling at the sky. If she didn't like the weather, why was she out in it?
"Maybe all of this is your subconscious telling you something?" Kelly continued.
"It's not my subconscious telling me something. It's my intuition. And my intuition has been right for many years."
Pam got up from the bench and walked away.
"She forgot something," I mumbled as I fiddled with my seat belt.
Kelly held me in my seat. "See, this is what I'm talking about. You're seeing plots around every corner. Right now, you're hurting yourself. But you're starting to bring other people down with you. The Fontanas are…"
But I wasn't listening. Because a man I'd never seen before walked past the bench and, without stopping or looking, scooped up whatever it was Pam Fontana had left behind.
"It's a brush pass!" I shouted, pointing at the empty park bench.
Ignoring Kelly, I got out of the car and started running through the now driving rain toward the bench. But the man and whatever he'd taken were long gone.
"What are you doing?" Kelly shouted from the car. "Get back in here!"
There wasn't any reason not to since both Pam Fontana and the man were gone. I made it back to the car, soaking wet, and climbed inside.
Kelly was apoplectic. "That's it! You've officially lost your mind! There wasn't anyone there, and you ran off in the rain to check out something you imagined!"
Wow. She was mad.
"I'm taking you home, and then I'm signing you up for the sleep study. It starts tomorrow."
I began to protest, but she silenced me.
"This is non-negotiable, Merry."
We drove in silence to my house. Mom had left a note saying she was out, talking to the church organist. While I took a hot shower, Kelly made me tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches and then watched me eat them.
"Your diet isn't helping either," she mumbled to herself. "Seriously, I think you're driving yourself insane on purpose!"
I refused to be baited, mainly because the soup and sandwich were good and I didn't want her to take them away. Philby and Martini waited for the dregs, but I didn't leave any. Kelly fed them and then shooed me down the hall to my bedroom.
"Get in," she said, holding the sheets and comforter.
"I'm not a baby," I grumbled as I got in. "I'm an adult. You can't treat me this way." Although I was already working on a plan to get her to make me soup and grilled cheese sandwiches more often.
"No." Kelly tucked me in. "You're not a baby. You're a lunatic." She drew the curtains and shut out the light. "I'm calling Judith and telling her what's going on. And now you're going to sleep."
I lay there in the darkness. My mind felt like a nest of squirming snakes. I knew what I'd seen in the park. I was a spy for crying out loud! I knew what a brush pass was. Pam was leaving that…whatever it was…for the stranger. He picked it up without looking at it. Total brush pass!
Why else would she sit out in the rain on a chilly day, in an empty park? There simply was no reason for it. I thought hard about the man. He was very nondescript with dark hair, wearing a raincoat and fedora. I didn't get a look at his face.
The puzzle pieces all clicked into place. I now understood what was going on. The Fontanas were illegals. Not the kind who cross the border from Mexico. Illegals was a spy term I knew well.
Mark and Pam Fontana were foreign spies.
Illegals are deep-undercover spies, pretending to be Americans. Sometimes, they spend decades dormant, acting only when needed. It's a long game they play.
Many times they act as a couple. Put together in their home country as total strangers, they spend a lot of time learning how to speak, think, and act American. Some of them even have children when they're here, in order to add to their cover. And in those cases, the agents even fell in love with one another. It was rare, but not unheard of.
Canada! Mark said they'd moved to Minnesota from Canada to attend college. It had to be a dead double. That's when spies find the birth certificate of an infant who died so they can become that person. It helped to get passports, driver licenses—all of the things they'd need to set up here.
My heart was pounding. I'd figured it out. There was something wrong with the Fontanas. Rex and Kelly couldn't see it because they weren't trained to do so. I saw it because I was.
The question was, why here? Usually illegals go where there's valuable intel—New York City, Washington DC, places like that. They might live in New Jersey or Maryland or Virginia, but there they have access to politicians. People they can turn.
So why come to this town in the middle of Iowa? Des Moines was thirty minutes away, but it held no charms for espionage. If they were just moving around to establish their bona fides, I'd understand. But Pam just gave someone
something. She wouldn't risk blowing her cover unless it was important intel.
And who were they working for? The Russians came to mind. It could be the Chinese, but they'd use their own people. These two didn't look Chinese. They looked like pasty Midwesterners.
I'd figured it out! I wasn't crazy or hallucinating. I was smart. I couldn't wait to rub that in Rex's and Kelly's faces.
But then, they probably wouldn't believe me. They'd think I'd gone completely bonkers if I started screaming about international espionage. Which meant before I could tell them, I'd need more proof. I'd have to break in and search the Fontanas' house. Then I'd have the evidence I needed. Then everyone would know I was right. There was no way I could do it tonight. The Fontanas have proven over and over that they're active in the wee hours.
Tomorrow. After they left for work, I'd head over. That would be the plan.
This, in addition to my insomnia, was killing me. A little rest would go a long way tomorrow. I took a couple of pills and closed my eyes.
I woke up at six in the morning, after four hours of sleep. And even though I know that's not enough, I felt better than I had in a long time. I even made eggs and toast for breakfast, shunning the Lucky Charms.
Mom called.
"Hey Mom, what's up?"
"I'm so sorry, kiddo. I have to head back to DC. Your dad has the flu."
Uh-oh. Taking my mother to the airport would wreck my plan.
"Don't worry about taking me to the airport. I've arranged to drop the rental car there. I really am sorry, Merry. But you know how your dad is when he doesn't feel well."
I smiled. "One of the most powerful men in the USA becomes the most helpless baby."
My mother laughed. "That's right. Now don't worry. I'll keep working on the arrangements."
My shoulders rose up as if a heavy weight had held them down. "Thanks, Mom! Have a safe trip back."
Motto for Murder (Merry Wrath Mysteries Book 6) Page 7
