For the Birds: Rose Gardner Investigations #2 (Rose Gardner Investigatons)

by Denise Grover Swank

  “Oh, that’s so sweet,” Neely Kate gushed. “He missed his daddy.” She stopped and let Miss Mildred continue for a few feet before she asked, “Well?”

  I frowned. “No luck. In fact, James says he has proof Buck took Scooter.”

  “Where in the world did he get that?”

  “He wouldn’t say, and Jed doesn’t know either.” When her eyes widened, I lowered my voice. “Yeah, I called him. Don’t tell Witt.”

  She nodded.

  “Jed says he’s been cut out of the loop. Merv convinced James not to trust him.”

  “What?”

  “Short of goin’ over there myself, I’m not sure what to do to stop him. And trust me, I’m willing to resort to that, but it would only be a temporary reprieve at best. In the meantime, we’ll keep lookin’ and hopin’ we find him first.”

  She nodded, but there was a worried look in her eyes. “I think you should have a vision.”

  “Of what?”

  “We’ve found out more things. Maybe it’s enough to make a difference. Why don’t you see if we find him?”

  “Okay.”

  I grabbed her hand and closed my eyes, concentrating on whether we’d find Scooter.

  The vision was slow to come, but it finally consumed my field of vision. It was dusk and my phone was ringing. I answered it and said in Neely Kate’s voice, “Rose. I was gettin’ worried.”

  “I know where he is, Neely Kate,” Vision Rose said with tears in her voice. “I found him.”

  The vision ended and I found myself staring into Neely Kate’s anxious face.

  “She found him,” I said.

  “She?”

  “Me,” I said, overcome with a wave of exhaustion. “I called you and told you that I found him.”

  “So we are making a difference,” she said.

  “Looks like it.” But why was I crying? Were they happy tears or sorrowful ones?

  Chapter 23

  I wasn’t sure who was more excited—Mr. Whipple or Squawker. The bird instantly flapped off his perch on Miss Mildred’s shoulder and flew to his owner, while the elderly man had tears in his eyes.

  “You found him,” Mr. Whipple said. “You actually found him.”

  “I found him,” Miss Mildred snapped.

  “This morning?” Mr. Whipple asked as he stroked his parrot’s head.

  “No. Back on Sunday.”

  “You didn’t see the signs? Why didn’t you call?”

  “I wasn’t sure,” Miss Mildred hedged. “I didn’t want to get your hopes up.”

  More like she hadn’t planned to give him back. Also not like her. Now I was really worried.

  “The important thing is that he’s home,” Neely Kate said. “Maybe we should get him inside before he flies away.”

  “Good idea,” Mr. Whipple said.

  Miss Mildred stared at the front door and shook her head. “I need to get back to the house. I left a carrot cake in the oven.”

  “That’s Squawker’s favorite,” Mr. Whipple said in surprise.

  “Is it?” she asked.

  The thought of the carrot cake, now for one instead of two, made me a little sad. “Why don’t we have Witt take you home, Miss Mildred,” I said. “It’s mighty hot out here.”

  She gave his car a long look, then said, “Okay.”

  “I’ll go with her and make sure she gets home okay,” Neely Kate said, knowing there was no way Miss Mildred would let me help her.

  “I don’t need any help,” Miss Mildred protested weakly.

  “Of course you don’t, but I need to give Witt some special directions about what to do after he drops you off.” Turning toward me, Neely Kate said, “Why don’t you get started, and I’ll meet you inside.”

  Mr. Whipple was already walking through the door, so I followed him in. He sat in his chair, still stroking the bird’s head. “I can’t believe he’s back. Where did you find him?”

  “Miss Mildred’s backyard. Neely Kate and I found out this morning. I think he’s been living in the trees.”

  “Thank you,” he said. “You’ll never know how much I appreciate it.”

  “Well, I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions.”

  “Of course.”

  “You mentioned that Squawker had said some things before your break-in. Could you tell me more about what he said?”

  He stilled. “Which part?”

  “The shut up and clean up the blood line. You claimed he probably heard it on TV, but what if he didn’t?”

  The bird squawked and said, “Shut up, you stupid asshole, and clean up the blood before mer—”

  “Squawker!” Mr. Whipple shouted; then his eyes widened. “Sorry. I’m trying to keep him from saying those things.”

  And yet it seemed like he’d interrupted the parrot for another reason. I wasn’t sure what to make of that. “I’d really like to hear it,” I said with a half-smile. “I’ve never been around a parrot before.”

  “I’m trying to keep him from cursin’,” the elderly man said, his hand and voice shaking. “And sayin’ lewd things. He hears my neighbor say . . .” His voice trailed off, and a panicked look stole over his face.

  “Did Squawker hear your neighbor say that line about the blood?” I asked in a soothing voice.

  “You have to go.” He jerked to his feet, the sudden movement startling the bird, who clung to his shoulder with his claws and flapped wildly.

  “Did someone warn you not to talk about it?” I asked as he shoved my arm.

  “No. I’ve just had a long day, and I need to get Squawker settled.” He continued to push me toward the door. I let him, because it was his house and we’d done our job—or I guess Miss Mildred had done a lot of it. I turned to face him. “Mr. Whipple. A man’s been kidnapped, and I have reason to believe Squawker might know something about it.”

  I also couldn’t help remembering my vision about Jeanne, and what had almost happened to her for talking. It also reminded me that she hadn’t called us yet.

  He shook his head. “I don’t know nothin’ about that. You need to go.” Then he pushed me out the door and closed it, the bird nearly escaping again in the process.

  Witt and Neely Kate pulled up as I hit the sidewalk. She rolled down the window and rested her elbow in the opening. “You’re done already?” she asked in surprise. “I thought we were gonna ask him questions.”

  “That’s just it. Squawker said the line about the blood. Only, he was startin’ to say more and Mr. Whipple cut him off.”

  “What did he add?”

  “He said, ‘Shut up, you stupid asshole, and clean up the blood before mer—’ Then Mr. Whipple cut him off. It sounded like it was mid-word.”

  “Before mer . . .” Neely Kate said. “What could it be? Mercury?”

  “Before ’merica becomes great again?” Witt supplied.

  “Before Merlin gets back?” I said as it hit me. “Paul’s brother.”

  Neely Kate’s eyes widened.

  “Have you heard back from your friend at the courthouse?” I asked.

  “No.” She pulled her phone out of her pocket. “I’m gonna check in with her.”

  “Maybe we should see if the neighbor on the corner is home. The one who saw Squawker at the park. I’d like to talk to him.” I started walking before either of them said anything.

  I cut across the street and headed for the house that was in desperate need of new paint and my landscaping services. I knocked on the front door, and a guy in his early to mid-forties opened the door wearing a sleeveless shirt that looked like he’d used it as a napkin for the chicken wing in his hand. “Whaddaya want?”

  “I heard that you spotted Mr. Whipple’s bird at the park last Saturday morning.”

  “So?” His eyebrows rose to an exaggerated height. “What of it?”

  “I was wonderin’ if you could tell me what time and where exactly.”

  “I see that damn bird there all the time,” he said. “And he was doin�
�� what he always does—annoying the shit out of me.”

  “Do you know of anyone who’d want to steal Mr. Whipple’s parrot?”

  He lifted his hands in a surrender-like gesture, and some of the grease from his wing started to run down his wrist. “I never stole that bird.”

  “We found the bird, Mr. . . . ?”

  His shoulders slumped in what looked like relief. “That bird annoys the shit outta everyone. Anyone could have took him, but it wasn’t me. If I’d took him . . .” He held up his chicken wing with a huge grin, then licked the grease off his arm and slammed the door shut.

  I headed back to Witt’s car, which was now parked directly across the street. “I don’t think he was involved,” I said as I climbed in the back.

  “Did you have a vision?” Witt asked.

  “No,” I said. “He slammed the door in my face before I could even think about havin’ one.”

  Neely Kate still had the phone pressed to her ear. “I’m on hold. Oh, and I already called Kermit and told him we’d returned Squawker to Mr. Whipple. Boy . . . did he sound surprised.”

  I bet. “If only he knew everything.” I took a breath. “Squawker saw something,” I said. “I’m certain of it. Just like I’m certain someone scared Mr. Whipple to keep quiet.”

  “Who?” Neely Kate asked. Then her eyes lit up. “Hey, June,” she said into her phone. “That’s okay. I didn’t mind waiting. That’s right. Seymour and Mary Ellen Constant.” She wrote something down on a piece of paper. “You don’t say? Okay. Thanks.”

  I rested my hand on the side of Witt’s seat.

  “You’re never gonna believe it. Elijah Landry’s grandparents lived on the street behind Mr. Whipple’s. And his aunt and uncle own the house now.”

  Witt pulled away from the curb, drove to the end of the street, and turned the corner. “What number?”

  “2500 Spring Street.”

  “You were back quick enough that I guess you didn’t have a chance to ask Miss Mildred anything about the Beagles,” I asked her.

  “She refused to discuss anything,” Neely Kate said. “I think she’s depressed over losin’ that bird.”

  I nodded. “Maybe we can ask someone from the church.”

  “That’s it,” Witt said, pointing to a pale-yellow house that looked well-kept. “And check it out. It looks like the corner of its backyard touches Mr. Whipple’s.”

  “I’m not sure it’s a good idea to march up to the door,” I said. “Maybe we should ask the neighbors what they know about the house.” Again, I remembered my vision with Jeanne.

  “Good idea,” Neely Kate said as Witt put the car in park. “You stay in the car, Witt. It’ll be better if it’s just me and Rose.”

  “I’ll be watchin’.”

  We got out and Neely Kate walked up to the house to the right of the Beagles’ place. She knocked on the door, and about ten seconds later, an elderly woman answered the door.

  “Hi,” Neely Kate said. “I’m Nancy and this is Beth Ann, and we’re looking for Mary Ellen Constant. We were told she lived here.”

  “Oh, honey,” the woman said, putting a hand on her chest. “You’re one house off and ten years too late.”

  “I’m sorry?” Neely Kate asked.

  “She died,” the woman said.

  “Oh.” Neely Kate turned back to me. “Now we’ll never find our cousins.”

  “Which cousins?” the woman asked. “Her daughter bought the place after Seymour died. She’s rentin’ it out, but she gave me a contact number in case there were any issues that needed addressin’.”

  “And have there been?” I asked. When the woman gave me a strange look, I said, “I’ve been thinkin’ about getting rental property, but it seems kind of like a nightmare, what with cranky tenants and such.”

  “There haven’t been many problems.” Her face scrunched up. “At least until last week. Things were a little noisy then, but the boys said they were havin’ a get-together.”

  “The boys?” Neely Kate asked.

  “Pam’s sons. They’re between renters, and Paul and his cousin Elijah are repainting the place and sprucin’ it up.”

  “You said they had a get-together?”

  “Yeah, it was early in the day, so it seemed odd.”

  “Do you remember what day?” Neely Kate asked.

  “It was Wednesday,” the woman said. “They were makin’ a ruckus when I left early for Wednesday night church. It was late afternoon because I was helping make the dinner. Then they were at it again on Thursday morning. I was out hangin’ my sheets on the line.”

  “What did you hear?”

  “A bunch of yellin’.”

  “Did you see anything?”

  She shook her head. “They said they were havin’ a painting party. A few of their friends came over to help.” She leaned closer and lowered her voice. “I suspect they were drinkin’. Pam’s boys are kinda rough.”

  “Do you know who any of their friends are?” Neely Kate asked.

  The woman gave her a wary look. Neely Kate was asking questions that didn’t pertain to rental houses or her supposed cousins.

  Neely Kate laughed. “There I go again. My momma always told me I was as nosy as a squirrel lookin’ for banana bread.”

  The elderly woman continued to give her an odd look. “I need to be gettin’ back to my talk show,” she said. “If you want Pam’s number, I can get it for you.”

  “That would be great. I’d love to see if she has any of their family tree plotted out.”

  She left us on the porch with her front door partially open.

  “We need to check out that house,” Neely Kate said under her breath. “I don’t see any cars out front, and we know that Elijah Landry and his friend are dead.”

  “But Paul and Merlin aren’t. I saw them both in my vision with Jeanne at lunch.”

  “Yeah,” she conceded with a nod.

  “The strange thing is how these guys all seemed to come out of nowhere. You would think at least one of them would have a foot in the crime world here. What have they got against James?”

  “Maybe it has to do with J.R. Simmons,” she said. “Maybe some of his allies are lookin’ for revenge.”

  She was right. “We should start lookin’ in that direction, but I have no idea where to start.”

  The elderly woman reappeared in the doorway with a piece of paper. “Here’s Pam’s number. How did you say you’re related to her?”

  “Her momma’s sister.”

  The woman’s eyes narrowed. “Mary Ellen didn’t have a sister.”

  “Oh! Silly me,” Neely Kate chuckled. “I meant her grandmother’s sister. Those family trees get so confusing. Thanks for your help.”

  Neely Kate spun around and went down the steps, and I followed her as she got into the car.

  “Well?” Witt asked.

  “She’s still watchin’,” Neely Kate said. “We’re gonna have to come back.”

  “We can try to find out more about Paul Beagle. Let’s go by the church. The church secretary’s been there forever and is a gossip to boot. She’ll be liable to remember not only the Constants and the Beagles, but everything about the anniversary party, including if the cake was too dry.”

  “So why didn’t we go there first?” Witt asked.

  I grimaced. “Because I’m not one of her favorite people.” She’d heard enough of the phrases I’d blurted out after visions to hold my nosiness—the way many people dismissed my knowledge of the intimate details of their lives—against me and my mother.

  “Well, it’s still a good idea,” Neely Kate said. “Do you know how to get there, Witt?”

  “Yeah.”

  It was a ten-minute drive to the church, but the parking lot was empty when we pulled in. “Let me check,” Neely Kate said, hopping out of the car and walking up to the front doors. She gave them a good jerk before shaking her head and returning to the car. “Locked up tight as a drum.”

  “What time is it?
” I asked as I dug out my phone and groaned. “It’s already three thirty. They always did close their offices early.”

  “So now what?” Neely Kate asked.

  “I have an idea,” I said. “But I need to do this one alone.”

  It was time to see my sister.

  Chapter 24

  Neely Kate and Witt weren’t happy about my plan, but they agreed in the end. When I called Violet, Mike answered, and he told me I could come over but only for an hour. I nearly asked when he’d become my sister’s keeper, but it seemed like a question better saved for Violet.

  The plan was for the Rivers cousins to drop me off and pick me up in a half hour.

  Neely Kate squeezed my hand when Witt pulled into Mike’s driveway. “Good luck.”

  Why did I feel like I’d need it?

  Witt waited until Mike answered the door, and seconds later my niece and nephew were hugging my legs. “Aunt Rose!”

  “It’s my favorite niece and nephew!”

  “We’re your only niece and nephew!” Ashley shouted. We’d played this more times than I could count, but this time I said my lines under the scrutiny of my brother-in-law.

  “Who dropped you off?” he asked.

  I blinked. “What? Neely Kate’s cousin Witt.”

  “Why don’t you have your truck?”

  “I didn’t need it today. What’s this all about?”

  “I don’t like the company you keep.”

  I gasped.

  “I read the papers. I hear people talk. I know you were associating with Skeeter Malcolm to get J.R. Simmons arrested last winter. Your business partner has a record.”

  I didn’t say anything. I definitely couldn’t deny it.

  “I can’t have my wife and children around criminals, Rose. No matter how much I like you.”

  “Rose?” Violet’s voice came from down the short hall where we were standing. I turned my back on Mike, trying to stuff down my hurt feelings. He and I had always been allies. His disapproval was hard to stomach. But shouldn’t I have expected this? I had known there would be a price to pay . . .

  “I’ll take the kids to get some ice cream,” Mike said. His words had shaken me so much, I barely registered the sound of his jingling keys and the kids’ excited voices before the front door shut behind them.