have been watching for us from just inside the hotel doors because I swear I had barely turned off the ignition before she was pulling Shana’s car door open and wrapping her in an ample-bosomed hug. “I’ve been so worried about you, honey!”
“I’m all right, really, Bernie,” Shana insisted, wheezing a little from Bernie’s mothering embrace. “I needed to get away for a little bit, and Bob obliged me.”
“Got some birds, too,” I added, walking into the hotel.
“Well, you missed a ton of excitement around here,” Bernie said, releasing Shana, only to hold her at arm’s length for inspection. “You need some sleep and a good meal. But not in that order. We’re all going to dinner across the street in five minutes.”
“Yes, Mom,” I told her.
Bernie pretended to slug me in the shoulder. “It’s a good thing you’re so handsome, or I’d toss you to the wolves in a minute,” she said. “But since I happen to need a young man to escort me to dinner tonight, you’re in luck. Now go clean up. I’m starving.”
And with that, she steered Shana through the lobby and down the hall to her hotel room, leaving me at the registration desk. I checked for messages—there was one—and then went to my own room to do as I had been told.
I’d no sooner unlocked my door, though, than my cell phone rang.
“I swear, I let you out of my sight for twenty-four hours and you’re in trouble. What am I going to do with you?”
It was Luce, and even though she was trying to joke with me, I could hear the concern in her voice. Obviously, bad news had traveled at its usual warp speed and found its way straight to my girlfriend.
“Hello to you, too. I’m assuming you’re talking about Jack O’Keefe’s murder.”
“Please tell me you didn’t find his body this morning. The radio reports are saying he was found by the group of birders he was leading, and I know that a group is more than one, but I have a really bad feeling that, if there was a body found, you were the one in the group to find it first.”
“What can I say? You know I’m really good at finding things.”
“Birds, yes! Bodies … that’s not so much a skill as … really creepy!” Luce’s voice came out of the cell phone loud and clear. “Okay, the first time I can understand—it was a fluke. You stumbled on a scam that was tied up with Boreal Owls. A totally random chance. And the second time? You were taking your mother birding. Not your fault that a homicide victim floats up in the marsh. But Bobby, this time you’re with a bunch of talented birders. Why do you have to be the one person to find the body? Why couldn’t someone else do it for a change?”
I looked at the phone in my hand. For the first time in the years I’d known Luce, I thought she sounded distraught, if not on the verge of actual hysteria. But Luce Nilsson never got distraught.
And then I realized what was going on.
“It’s Lily, isn’t it? She’s getting to you,” I concluded. “I told you it was a mistake to agree to be her maid of honor. What has she got you doing now? Looking at dinner mints stamped with their silhouettes?”
“Dinner mints I could handle,” Luce said, some of the tension leaving her voice. “It’s the horrible DJs I helped her audition this afternoon for the wedding reception. If I hear one more oily ‘This one’s for you, baby,’ I’m going to lock myself in a closet and never come out.”
“It’s just another month, Luce. You can hang in there.”
“Easy for you to say. You’re out of town. And you don’t have to be a part of the show until the wedding day.” She paused a moment. “I wish I were the best man.”
“No, you don’t. Believe me, you don’t want to go to the stag party I’m planning for Alan. Heck, I don’t want to go to the stag party I’m planning for Alan,” I laughed.
“So what’s going on?” Luce asked, abruptly changing the subject. “Do you have to stick around in Spring Valley
“I’m all right, really, Bernie,” Shana insisted, wheezing a little from Bernie’s mothering embrace. “I needed to get away for a little bit, and Bob obliged me.”
“Got some birds, too,” I added, walking into the hotel.
“Well, you missed a ton of excitement around here,” Bernie said, releasing Shana, only to hold her at arm’s length for inspection. “You need some sleep and a good meal. But not in that order. We’re all going to dinner across the street in five minutes.”
“Yes, Mom,” I told her.
Bernie pretended to slug me in the shoulder. “It’s a good thing you’re so handsome, or I’d toss you to the wolves in a minute,” she said. “But since I happen to need a young man to escort me to dinner tonight, you’re in luck. Now go clean up. I’m starving.”
And with that, she steered Shana through the lobby and down the hall to her hotel room, leaving me at the registration desk. I checked for messages—there was one—and then went to my own room to do as I had been told.
I’d no sooner unlocked my door, though, than my cell phone rang.
“I swear, I let you out of my sight for twenty-four hours and you’re in trouble. What am I going to do with you?”
It was Luce, and even though she was trying to joke with me, I could hear the concern in her voice. Obviously, bad news had traveled at its usual warp speed and found its way straight to my girlfriend.
“Hello to you, too. I’m assuming you’re talking about Jack O’Keefe’s murder.”
“Please tell me you didn’t find his body this morning. The radio reports are saying he was found by the group of birders he was leading, and I know that a group is more than one, but I have a really bad feeling that, if there was a body found, you were the one in the group to find it first.”
“What can I say? You know I’m really good at finding things.”
“Birds, yes! Bodies … that’s not so much a skill as … really creepy!” Luce’s voice came out of the cell phone loud and clear. “Okay, the first time I can understand—it was a fluke. You stumbled on a scam that was tied up with Boreal Owls. A totally random chance. And the second time? You were taking your mother birding. Not your fault that a homicide victim floats up in the marsh. But Bobby, this time you’re with a bunch of talented birders. Why do you have to be the one person to find the body? Why couldn’t someone else do it for a change?”
I looked at the phone in my hand. For the first time in the years I’d known Luce, I thought she sounded distraught, if not on the verge of actual hysteria. But Luce Nilsson never got distraught.
And then I realized what was going on.
“It’s Lily, isn’t it? She’s getting to you,” I concluded. “I told you it was a mistake to agree to be her maid of honor. What has she got you doing now? Looking at dinner mints stamped with their silhouettes?”
“Dinner mints I could handle,” Luce said, some of the tension leaving her voice. “It’s the horrible DJs I helped her audition this afternoon for the wedding reception. If I hear one more oily ‘This one’s for you, baby,’ I’m going to lock myself in a closet and never come out.”
“It’s just another month, Luce. You can hang in there.”
“Easy for you to say. You’re out of town. And you don’t have to be a part of the show until the wedding day.” She paused a moment. “I wish I were the best man.”
“No, you don’t. Believe me, you don’t want to go to the stag party I’m planning for Alan. Heck, I don’t want to go to the stag party I’m planning for Alan,” I laughed.
“So what’s going on?” Luce asked, abruptly changing the subject. “Do you have to stick around in Spring Valley
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