here.”
I pulled Shana to her feet and headed back to the trail.
Two bodies in one day.
Great.
Whoever thinks birding is dull has never been birding with me.
Chapter Nine
Not a single media van was in sight when I pulled into the parking lot at the hotel just before six o’clock. After hightailing it out of Mystery Cave State Park, I offered to go back to the motel, but Shana didn’t want to. Not yet. Instead, we’d driven southwest to Beaver Creek Wildlife Management Area, hoping to scope out the area where I suspected there might still be some wild Bobwhites. Unfortunately, though, despite our best efforts, we couldn’t find any of the little quail, which was no great surprise, since Northern Bobwhites in the wild were notorious for their shyness. Shana and I did spot a few of the sparrows we wanted—we saw Vesper and Savannah Sparrows in the young hay fields lining the road, along with Field Sparrows in the taller grasses near stands of trees. In Beaver Creek, we also picked out a Willow Flycatcher and an Indigo Bunting, so the afternoon had produced decent results for us.
Decent as far as birds went, that is.
As far as bodies … not so good.
I was pretty sure, however, that the reason the media vans were gone had less to do with our earlier vanishing act than it had to do with the radio reports we’d listened to on our way back to the hotel. Not only had the announcement of Stan’s discovery of Billy’s body interrupted a Minnesota Twins ballgame broadcast, but somebody else was now topping the news: exotic animal sanctuary owner Kami Marsden.
According to the radio report, Kami had been brought into the local police station for questioning in relation to Jack’s murder … and Billy’s.
“Sources inside the sheriff’s office tell us that no arrest has been made at this point, and that it is still too early in the investigation to name suspects,” the reporter on the radio commented. “Yet the confirmed presence early this morning on Marsden’s property of vehicles belonging to both murder victims is a clear indication that she will continue to be a prime subject in this investigation.”
“How can anyone possibly know for a fact that Jack and Billy were there?” Shana argued, confusion and disbelief in her voice. “Does she have cameras mounted on her garage? An orbiting satellite transmitting surveillance? What?”
Eddie’s face popped into my head.
Damn .
Eddie had gotten it all on tape.
Or disk.
Or whatever technology he was using these days to perform his electronics magic.
He’d said he had monitors tracking Nigel. I bet some of those monitors were motion sensors, and they’d triggered cameras that must have caught the cars on Kami’s land.
“The lady was having some issues with her tiger,” I told Shana. “When Tom and I were out there birding today, I ran into a good friend of mine who’s a surveillance expert. He’s helping her find the bugs in her perimeter fence. Apparently Nigel’s been getting some free passes off the sanctuary without her knowledge, and she’s literally trying to close the gap.”
Shana’s green eyes caught mine when I glanced over at her in the passenger seat.
“Who’s Nigel? Your friend?”
I shook my head as I turned into the hotel parking lot. “Nigel’s the tiger. Eddie Edvarg is my friend. I call him Crazy Eddie because he’s independently wealthy, but he still likes to work. We met one summer on a DNR job. Me and Eddie, that is, not me and Nigel. I had that pleasure this afternoon.” I pulled into a parking space. “Eddie’s an ace at tracking anything that moves.”
“I should have sent him after Jack, then. Not Billy,” Shana said, her voice filled with misery.
Not again , I groaned inwardly. I could practically hear the waterworks cranking up. I was going to have to start carrying a sponge with Shana around. Maybe a bucket.
Maybe a shopvac.
“Where have you two been?”
Yes! Saved by the Bernie.
She must
I pulled Shana to her feet and headed back to the trail.
Two bodies in one day.
Great.
Whoever thinks birding is dull has never been birding with me.
Chapter Nine
Not a single media van was in sight when I pulled into the parking lot at the hotel just before six o’clock. After hightailing it out of Mystery Cave State Park, I offered to go back to the motel, but Shana didn’t want to. Not yet. Instead, we’d driven southwest to Beaver Creek Wildlife Management Area, hoping to scope out the area where I suspected there might still be some wild Bobwhites. Unfortunately, though, despite our best efforts, we couldn’t find any of the little quail, which was no great surprise, since Northern Bobwhites in the wild were notorious for their shyness. Shana and I did spot a few of the sparrows we wanted—we saw Vesper and Savannah Sparrows in the young hay fields lining the road, along with Field Sparrows in the taller grasses near stands of trees. In Beaver Creek, we also picked out a Willow Flycatcher and an Indigo Bunting, so the afternoon had produced decent results for us.
Decent as far as birds went, that is.
As far as bodies … not so good.
I was pretty sure, however, that the reason the media vans were gone had less to do with our earlier vanishing act than it had to do with the radio reports we’d listened to on our way back to the hotel. Not only had the announcement of Stan’s discovery of Billy’s body interrupted a Minnesota Twins ballgame broadcast, but somebody else was now topping the news: exotic animal sanctuary owner Kami Marsden.
According to the radio report, Kami had been brought into the local police station for questioning in relation to Jack’s murder … and Billy’s.
“Sources inside the sheriff’s office tell us that no arrest has been made at this point, and that it is still too early in the investigation to name suspects,” the reporter on the radio commented. “Yet the confirmed presence early this morning on Marsden’s property of vehicles belonging to both murder victims is a clear indication that she will continue to be a prime subject in this investigation.”
“How can anyone possibly know for a fact that Jack and Billy were there?” Shana argued, confusion and disbelief in her voice. “Does she have cameras mounted on her garage? An orbiting satellite transmitting surveillance? What?”
Eddie’s face popped into my head.
Damn .
Eddie had gotten it all on tape.
Or disk.
Or whatever technology he was using these days to perform his electronics magic.
He’d said he had monitors tracking Nigel. I bet some of those monitors were motion sensors, and they’d triggered cameras that must have caught the cars on Kami’s land.
“The lady was having some issues with her tiger,” I told Shana. “When Tom and I were out there birding today, I ran into a good friend of mine who’s a surveillance expert. He’s helping her find the bugs in her perimeter fence. Apparently Nigel’s been getting some free passes off the sanctuary without her knowledge, and she’s literally trying to close the gap.”
Shana’s green eyes caught mine when I glanced over at her in the passenger seat.
“Who’s Nigel? Your friend?”
I shook my head as I turned into the hotel parking lot. “Nigel’s the tiger. Eddie Edvarg is my friend. I call him Crazy Eddie because he’s independently wealthy, but he still likes to work. We met one summer on a DNR job. Me and Eddie, that is, not me and Nigel. I had that pleasure this afternoon.” I pulled into a parking space. “Eddie’s an ace at tracking anything that moves.”
“I should have sent him after Jack, then. Not Billy,” Shana said, her voice filled with misery.
Not again , I groaned inwardly. I could practically hear the waterworks cranking up. I was going to have to start carrying a sponge with Shana around. Maybe a bucket.
Maybe a shopvac.
“Where have you two been?”
Yes! Saved by the Bernie.
She must
Similar Books
