by Nic Saint
Felicity shook her head. “But Mabel, that’s terrible!”
“Not really, dear. They’ll handle it, and we’ll handle it.” She expelled a quick breath. “Now if there’s nothing else, I really need to get back to work. Lots and lots to do, as usual.”
Her cheerfulness was clearly a mask, and Felicity could see right through it, and so could Alice. She decided to leave Mabel be, however. It was obvious they wouldn’t get anything out of her, and it didn’t do to pressure her any further. She was suffering from some sort of anxiety, and refused to talk about it. But whatever it was, she had the distinct impression there was a lot more going on than a missing parrot.
“Mabel, I really think—” Alice began, but Felicity cut her off.
“Thanks for your time, honey. I hope Mark gets to the bottom of this problem at the plant.”
“Oh, of course he will,” she assured them. “Absolutely nothing to worry about.”
Against her protestations Felicity pushed Alice out of the office, and when they were making their way down the hallway, Alice loud-whispered, “She’s hiding something! I just know she is!”
“I know, all right? But now’s not the time to find out. Pressuring her won’t bring us any further.”
“I could have gotten it out of her,” insisted Alice, visibly peeved that she hadn’t been allowed to work her magic on Mabel.
“How? By waterboarding her? Honey, the woman’s clearly distraught. She won’t talk unless she wants to.”
“I’m worried, Fee. I’ve never seen Mabel like this before. Never.”
“And what’s all this about the power plant? A crack? In the cooling tower? Do you know what that means?”
“No,” said Alice. “Do you think it’s bad?”
“Bad?! Honey, this is a nuclear plant. Remember Fukushima, Chernobyl, Three Mile Island? When those things start to crumble, it’s very bad news!”
“Oh,” said Alice with a frown. “Yeah, you’re probably right. But what worries me more is that parrot.”
Felicity flapped her arms. “Parrot?! Really?! We’re about to die in a nuclear holocaust and all you care about is a parrot?!”
“No, I mean, don’t you think it’s weird that Stephen says the parrot has been kidnapped and yet Mabel insists Moe is fine?”
“Honey, who the hell cares?!”
“Well, the mayor for one,” she insisted stubbornly. “He loves that bird.”
“You know what I love? Staying alive. And I think the bigger story here is the power plant.” She got out her phone. “And I’m pretty sure Stephen will agree with me on this one.”
Chapter 4
Mabel stared at the door, where Alice and Felicity had just disappeared, and sighed with relief. She loved both women dearly, but this was one problem she needed to solve on her own.
She picked up the phone, and cleared her throat.
“Curtis? It’s Mabel. Yes, I’m fine. Listen, Mark and I need your help. Could you come over tonight? No, no police business. It’s personal.”
After she put down the phone, she stared before her for a moment, then finished the letter she’d been typing. It was as she’d been composing it that she’d been overcome with grief, and had collapsed on the floor. After all, she’d worked at Town Hall for so long she’d seen five mayors come and go. And now, after all this time, it had come to this.
She pushed her Nana Mouskouri glasses further up her nose, and printed out the letter, then went over it one last time, this time stemming the flood of tears that had wiped her out just before Alice and Felicity had come barging into the office.
She signed the letter, placed it on the desk, and slowly rose. Then she picked up the box she’d prepared, placing her personal items inside it one by one. Her framed wedding photo. Pictures of every mayor she’d served. The My Little Pony drawing her daughter Natalie had made when she was five, Natalie’s engagement picture…
She’d never imagined her last day at the office to be quite like this.
And before she broke down again she stepped from the office and walked down the hallway for the very last time, stepped through the double doors, and was out on the street.
Mabel Stokely had left the building, never to return.
From across the street, Alice and Felicity watched Mabel walk down the street. Seated in the bakery van Felicity had a hunch they needed to stay put and see what happened. Stephen had assured her that he had it from an excellent source that the mayor’s parrot really had been abducted, and he didn’t understand how Mabel could deny it. Felicity said they’d never actually laid eyes on the bird, so they only had Mabel’s word that Moe was fine.
“You need to get in there,” Stephen said. “You need to see with your own eyes if that bird is there or not. Because my source never lies.”
“Who is your source?”
“You know as well as I do that a good reporter never tells.”
“Stephen. I am your reporter.”
“Oh. Right. Of course. Well, the cleaning lady did it. She told me she was cleaning the mayor’s outer office this morning when she heard weeping and gnashing of teeth. The mayor, the mayor’s wife, and Mabel were ensconced inside, lamenting Moe’s abduction. She promptly put her ear to the door, and overheard them speaking to the abductors on the telephone.” He paused for effect. “Ransom demands were made.”
“So Mabel lied to us.”
“It would appear so. Get to the bottom of this, Fee. And follow up on the nuclear thing as well. This is breaking news, honey! Well done!”
She watched Mabel place a box into the trunk of her car, and pointed to Town Hall. “We need to get inside. Find out what happened to Moe.”
“Easier said than done. We really don’t want to be caught breaking into Town Hall. My dad would have a coronary.”
“Your dad would have a field day.”
Alice’s father, Chief of Police Curtis Whitehouse, had been unable to solve the Happy Bays Inn murder case, and when Felicity finally caught the killer, the chief hadn’t been too well pleased.
“Besides, I don’t know what you expect to find.”
“I want to inspect Moe’s cage. Whoever took him must have left traces. Maybe even a ransom note.”
Alice shook her head. “That cage ain’t here, honey. The mayor takes Moe home at night.”
“You mean we have to break into the mayor’s home?”
“There must be an easier way to find out more about this parrotnapping.”
“Why don’t we simply talk to the mayor?”
“He’s a politician, Fee. Politicians lie. It’s what they do.”
“Mh. You’re right.”
They both mused for a moment.
Alice snapped her fingers. “Or we could say we’re doing a piece for National Geographic on the influence of domesticated animals on small-town policy. Rick could tag along. He’ll know how to spin this.”
She was right. Rick had probably even worked for National Geographic at some point in his illustrious career. “I think it’s brilliant. And it definitely beats breaking into the mayor’s home.”
“And now let’s follow Mabel. I really want to find out more about this crack.”
Felicity grinned as she put the van in gear. “Let’s crack this case wide open.”
Chapter 5
Adrian Calamus heaved a soft chuckle. Finally his work was done. Only a few more details to take care of, and then the show could begin.
He’d been dreaming of this moment for so long, steadily working his way toward it for weeks, that he could hardly believe he was almost there.
He was dangling from a rope, eighty feet above the ground, hugging the concrete mantel that housed cooling tower two of the Happy Bays nuclear power plant. For a brief moment he glanced down. If his equipment malfunctioned now, they could scrape him off the concrete slab below.
But that would never happen. He was an experienced rock climber, and had rappelled rock faces much more formidable than this one. He returned h
is attention to the work at hand, inspecting the small fissure, then easing in the small charge he’d prepared, pushing it home. He expertly fastened a minuscule remote detonator, took the tube of quick-drying cement from his breast pocket, and squirted an ample amount into the crack, covering up his handiwork, then applying a spatula.
He worked methodically for a few minutes, and examined the work carefully. It wouldn’t hold up to close inspection, but from a distance no one would know the concrete had been tampered with.
Besides, he was quite certain they’d never inspect. They hadn’t done a full check-up in years, and the next scheduled minor review was months away. His handiwork would go undetected until it was too late.
Satisfied, he started heaving himself up again to the top of the tower, just like he’d done for the past few weeks, each time ‘preparing’ a different section.
Hand over hand he climbed up, just like he’d taught dozens of kids at the sports climbing center, and when he reached the edge, hoisted himself up and over, and quickly let his eyes scan his surroundings. As usual no one had noticed his acrobatic feat. And even if they did, he had his response ready. He was, after all, a climber, and if caught would simply say that the prospect of scaling a wall of these dimensions was a temptation he simply couldn’t resist.
He quickly stripped off his coveralls, revealing his regular work clothes, and stuffed them into his backpack. He was still on his break, and if he chose to spend it in open air, that was his prerogative.
For a moment he simply sat on his haunches, catching his breath. He was glad it was all over. The adrenaline shot he got each time he went over that parapet was immense, and the fear of being caught had begun controlling his life. He was glad it would all be over soon.
He stared out into the night, and thought he could see the ocean in the distance. All of this would soon be the scene of one of the biggest stunts in American nuclear history, and he was the cause of it. It filled him with inordinate pride.
Safety should have been a number one issue for the company that employed him, but apparently maximizing profit replaced that concern. Now they would suffer the consequences. And so would Happy Bays.
Well, that couldn’t be helped. After all, the populace shared much of the blame; if they hadn’t opted to keep the same corrupt politicians in place they might be living in a world where nuclear power plants were actually safe, and not the easy targets for terrorists that they were.
He checked if his security badge was fastened to his lapel, took a steadying breath, and headed back inside.
His shift wasn’t over yet, and he still needed to file some reviews. As he reached ground level, he grinned, and went about his work as if nothing had happened. And nothing had. At least not for now. Soon, the whole world would know his name. But by then he’d be long gone.
Chapter 6
Felicity eyed the man darkly. It just didn’t do, she felt, for the leader of her community to blatantly lie to her. “Mr. Mayor,” she snapped, “isn’t it true that Moe was kidnapped this morning?”
“No!” the mayor replied emphatically, shaking his head and allowing his three chins to wiggle. “No, that’s not true. Moe wasn’t kidnapped. Whatever makes you even think so?”
“We have our sources,” said Rick.
They’d gained access to the mayor’s house by means of a ruse. Rick, who’d just done a feature for Time Magazine, had told Mayor MacDonald when they’d rung his bell that he was working on a story about small-town mayors of the future, and that he’d chosen him as his first subject. The mayor had been extremely pleased, and said it was an honor and a privilege.
They were seated in the small and stuffy study of the leader of Happy Bays, and Felicity couldn’t help but think that the mayor looked quite sedate. Usually the tubby man was a real live wire, virtually indefatigable, but today he seemed downcast and downright moody.
Which, of course, stood to reason, if the story that his parrot had been abducted was true.
Rick had introduced her as his fellow reporter on this story, and Alice as his photographer. Though the mayor had frowned when he caught sight of Felicity and Alice, he hadn’t questioned their credentials.
He knew, of course, that Felicity worked at Bell’s, and that Alice’s sole claim to fame was that she was dating Reece Hudson, Hollywood’s golden boy, but the prospect of being featured in one of Rick Dawson’s articles had rendered the man momentarily mum.
He leaned back in his chair, arched his beetling brows, and steepled his fingers over the map of Happy Bays that functioned as his blotter. “Okay, I’ll grant you this. Moe was sick this morning. We even had Pete North come out to give him a check-up. Turned out that the poor dear had swallowed a nut, which had upset his stomach.”
“A nut?” asked Rick incredulously.
“Yah. Pete—who’s our local vet, by the way—managed to dislodge the nut, and Moe is quite fine, though he still needs to rest from his ordeal. The whole incident caused a lot of stress for the poor thing.”
“Can we see Moe?” asked Felicity.
The mayor’s face betrayed his extreme agitation. “No, you can’t!” Then, like a watery sun breaking through the deck of clouds, he displayed a feeble smile. “Like I said, the poor dear needs to rest. He’s been through so much today I really don’t want to disturb him.”
“Just a peek?” asked Rick.
The mayor shook his gray head, now visibly dismayed. “I really don’t see what this has to do with small-town mayors of the future, Rick. I’m sorry but I really don’t.”
“We’re focusing on the personal angle. We want to see what makes you tick, Mr. Mayor. And part of that is your great affection for animals, or so I’ve been told.”
Mollified, the mayor inclined his head. “You’ve heard right, Rick. I do believe that a man’s soul is revealed by the way he treats members of the animal kingdom.” He placed his hands on the blotter, covering practically the whole territory of Happy Bays. “As I’m sure people who know me well will tell you, my wife and I haven’t been blessed, most unfortunately, with a child of our own. And Moe—” He swallowed, his face suddenly a mask of sorrow. “—Moe is by way of being like a son to us.” He swallowed again. “A tiny, sweet, feathered, little boy.”
“And you’re quite sure he’s fine?” Felicity pressed.
The mayor nodded quickly—too quickly, she felt. “Moe is perfectly fine. In fact he’s so fine that Pete said he’ll probably outlive us all. Imagine that.” He tried to grin, but the attempt was pitiful.
Rick closed his notebook. “I think that’ll be all for now, Mr. Mayor. I’ll make an appointment for the follow-up interview. This is when we really go into depth, and where the bulk of the story takes shape.”
“Thank you, Rick,” rasped the mayor, standing and holding out his hand. “I appreciate this. As one of our newest citizens I’m glad you want to do this for me—for us—for Happy Bays.”
“No problem, Mr. Mayor,” said Rick graciously. “Um, could I perhaps use the lavatory before we leave? Small bladder, I’m afraid.”
“Sure, of course. Through those doors, take a left, another left, another left…” He frowned. “Anyway, just keep on going.”
Rick excused himself, leaving Felicity, Alice, and the mayor sharing an uncomfortable silence. Then the mayor said, “How’s the family, Fee? I trust they’re all fine?”
“All fine, Mayor,” said Felicity curtly. She didn’t enjoy being lied to.
“And your father is fine, of course, Alice,” continued the mayor. “I just saw the chief this afternoon, and he tells me that you’re putting in a lot of time at your uncle Charlie’s place. A lot of unfortunate deaths.”
“Yeah, Uncle Charlie is really pleased,” Alice said. “Business is booming.”
The mayor winced. “Just goes to show that one man’s loss is another man’s gain,” he muttered.
Once again, silence reigned in the mayor’s small study, and the man drummed his fingers impatiently. When Rick
reappeared, he eagerly rose, quite anxious to bid his guests good night. He was unpleasantly surprised, therefore, when Rick fixed him with an accusatory look, and suddenly threw down an aquamarine feather.
“You have lied to me, Mr. Mayor,” Rick boomed. “I inspected Moe’s cage and all I found was this. So where’s the rest of him?”
Chapter 7
It didn’t take long for the mayor to break down. Rick Dawson had interviewed Mafia bosses, terrorists, and politicians the world over. His interview techniques were honed by years of practice, and a mayor of a small town didn’t stand a chance against the onslaught. “I know the bird is gone, Mr. Mayor,” he thundered. “Moe’s been kidnapped, hasn’t he?”
The mayor suddenly broke down in tears. “Oh, God!” he cried. “Please don’t tell a soul! Please don’t tell anyone!”
“What happened?” asked Alice, like Felicity undone by the sight of a weeping Mayor MacDonald. They’d seen crying politicians before, but this time they sensed it was for real.
The mayor drew a handkerchief from his vest pocket. “He was taken this morning. The kidnappers told me over the phone that if I breathe a word about this to anyone, they will kill him and send him back to us in little pieces.” He broke down again, a loud wailing sound rending the air.
“But that’s terrible!” cried Alice, clasping a hand to her face.
I knew it, thought Felicity. Like a human polygraph, she’d known the man wasn’t being truthful.
“We won’t tell anyone,” Rick assured the stricken man.
He wrung his hands. “The only person who knows is Mabel. She was there when I discovered Moe’s cage empty.”
“So that’s why she was behaving so strangely,” said Alice.
“But why?” Felicity wanted to know. “Why kidnap Moe?”
