by Patricia Fry
“Peter?” Rochelle said weakly.
“He’s okay,” Simon said. “He says it was just a graze wound.”
“He was shot?” Rochelle shrieked.
Savannah gasped.
Simon took a couple of shallow breaths and rushed into Rochelle’s arms. He sobbed as she held him tightly.
“What happened?” she asked the officer.
“Well, your husband, it seems, saved the boy’s life.”
“He was shot?” she asked again.
“Yeah, he’s okay.”
Savannah hesitated, then said, “The cat. Where’s my cat?”
The officer chuckled. “The bird saved his hide—that little parrot you’ve got in there.”
Simon pulled away from Rochelle and wiped at his eyes. “Clayton’s a hero.” He continued sobbing, saying, “And so is Mr. Peter.” He hugged Rochelle again. “I guess you guys do love me. He…” The boy took a ragged breath. “He almost died to save me.”
Rochelle continued holding Simon. Through tears, she asked the officer, “Where is he? I want to see my husband.”
“Here he comes,” Marsh said.
Rochelle opened her arms and Peter embraced her and Simon with one arm. “Are you okay?” she asked, pulling back after a moment and examining the cloth wrapped around his arm.
“Just a graze,” he said, “like in the old Westerns. Just a graze.” He squeezed her tightly, saying, “I’m fine, hon.”
“You saved Simon?” she asked.
He tousled the boy’s hair. “Just did what any dad would do.”
“What’s going on in here?” Martinez asked, as he walked in through the back entrance minutes later. “I hear we got our man, and he’s on his way to the pokey. Is everyone okay?”
Savannah was first to speak. “Just barely. Detective, what happened? What caused her to send someone after my cat?”
He rubbed his chin. “Well, as near as I can tell, she believes in revenge. It’s a religion with her. Cross her or outsmart her and she’s going to retaliate. Never mind that she found what she was looking for or that she got a lucky break and was turned loose. She has no filters and, it seems, no conscience.”
“Evidently not if she harmed sweet Celeste,” Rochelle lamented.
The detective glanced around at everyone and asked again, “So is everyone all right?”
“My new dad got shot,” Simon announced, “but he’s okay.”
“We’re all okay,” Peter said.
“And the cat?” Martinez asked.
“Clayton saved him,” Simon explained.
Martinez frowned. “Clayton?”
“He’s our bird. A parrot. I let him out of the cage…”
“Without permission,” Rochelle interjected.
Simon grimaced, then said, “Yeah, but it’s a good thing I did, because that guy came in the back door waving that big gun around and when he saw Rags he pointed it at him. Clayton flew right into his face. While the man was trying to slap Clayton away, he accidentally pointed the gun at me and…” Simon looked affectionately at Peter. “Dad pushed me behind him and tried to grab the man. That’s when he got shot. See his arm?”
“Yeah, better get a doc to take a look at that,” Martinez said. He shook his head. “An owl saved the cat earlier this evening and now a parrot does the same thing? What is he, a bird whisperer?”
“He just has good friends, that’s all,” Simon said. “You gotta have good friends.” He looked around the room adding, “And family.”
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