Part 10 (1/2)

Tom s.h.i.+fted in his chair. ”And we wanted to ask if maybe he said anything, there at the end. Last words, I mean.”

Ah. That was it. I thought back. Mostly I remembered the feel of the thick body under my palms, Denny stepping up to the mouth breathing, all in slanting, unreliable illumination from the headlights.

Tipton had said something. ”I think he said, 'Look after slither,' something like that. It didn't make any sense to me.”

Tom and Jeff looked at each other. Tom was apparently the designated spokesman. ”Look after Stridder?”

”Yeah. That sounds right.”

”Like I keep telling you,” Tom said to his brother with sudden venom, ”all he cared about was those birds. He didn't give a wad of spit about his family.”

Jeff shook his head. ”He was dyin'. You can't blame him.”

”It's always been that way. You know it and I know it. He treated us worse than dogs and treated himself just fine.”

Jeff flushed and started to rise.

The kettle whistled and I got up. Jeff settled back. I set up the French press under watchful eyes. ”Who's Stridder?” I leaned against the counter while the coffee steeped.

Tom looked surprised. ”The parrot. The other one's Stanley.”

The macaws, then. Old Man Tipton's last words were to take care of his pets. I'd be p.i.s.sed, too.

I pulled half-and-half out of the fridge and set it on the table. ”So what's the story with the parrots in the barn? And the tortoises?”

Jeff frowned a warning at Tom. Tom said, ”What about them? Lots of people have birds and turtles.”

I gave him a look. ”I work in a zoo. I know about this stuff. They were illegal. You were going to sell them. And they were suffering and dying because you weren't taking good care of them.”

Tom shrugged. ”They're birds and turtles. It's not like dogs. They don't feel things. People have dominance over them anyway, it's in the Bible.”

Jeff cut off this line of bulls.h.i.+t with one of his own. ”We came here to see that his birds was taken care of properly. Stridder and Stanley.”

I couldn't hide how lame this sounded. Tom looked embarra.s.sed.

”They're in the bas.e.m.e.nt. Go take a look if you like.”

Neither budged.

Jeff said, apparently to mollify me, ”The big birds, they were different. He could do anything with them. He'd pet 'em and hold them on his lap. They like peanuts. Popcorn, too. He had a lot of fun with them.”

”Do they talk?” I wasn't sure where this was going, but conversation was better than any action they might have in mind. The dogs were lying down, panting from worry.

”Nah. He tried to teach them, but they never talked back.”

”He thought we had them in the van,” I said.

They looked at their coffee cups. Tom said, ”He liked those turtles, too. Liked them a lot. Are they here?”

”Nope. They're at the zoo.”

Tom wrinkled his brow at me, an attempt at sincerity? ”We'd like to go see them, see that they're all right. If you could tell us where they are.”

”Locked up somewhere in a back room. I don't really know. I'm a bird keeper.”

They looked at each other, defeated. Good grief, they really were smart as hemlock stumps. On the other hand, they had eluded the police for a week and had tracked me down. How? My name hadn't been in the news as far as I knew. I poured out the coffee and set down the sugar bowl. They used lots of sugar and cream.

Tom was a lousy liar, but he had persistence going for him. ”Do you know how we could talk to the people in the ambulance? He might of said something to them.”

I thought about it. ”I can't remember which ambulance company it was. You could make some calls and find out.”

I might as well suggest they don magic helmets and use telepathy.

Tom reached out toward Winnie, who slid back away from his hand. ”Would that guy who was helping you, would he of heard any last words maybe?”

”Nothing I didn't hear. I'm sorry, but that's all there was. Your dad was in bad shape.” What were they hoping for? Proof that their father loved them? Instructions for surviving without him? The pa.s.sword to his brokerage account?

Jeff spoke to himself as much as to Tom or me. ”He's dead, and Liana's dead. He said that's what the government would do if they came. They shot her and got him so stirred up that his heart quit.” His eyelid spasmed.

Liana hadn't been shot during the bust. I considered pointing this out, but they were the top candidates for her killer. Instead, I said, ”Sorry for your loss.”

The men acknowledged my cliche with subdued nods. Tom cradled his coffee cup in both hands. ”He never knew. He thought she got away.”

My head felt full of helium, floating into some universe where this was a normal conversation.

Jeff said, ”He found her at a highway rest area. He felt sorry for her and brought her home. He saved her from a life of disrespect and danger. She was going to be my wife when she turned eighteen.” He seemed to be defending his father's memory. ”The birds liked her, too. They bit at me and Tom, but they liked her.”

Tom's mouth twisted. ”You couldn't even buy her a ring.”

Jeff sat back in his chair, his cheekbones turning an angry red.

I tried to s.h.i.+ft the topic before this escalated. ”So how did you make bail?”

Jeff shot Tom a clear ”shut up” look.

Tom ignored it. ”He had money. He just liked to keep us poor. He was giving it away to certain people and...Well, he had some set aside.”

Jeff's mouth was set in a grim line. ”That's enough out of you. I mean it.”

”What's the big secret?” Tom said. ”Everyone knows what he-”

The phone in my pocket rang. I reached for it and Jeff half-stood, his face determined. I put my hand back on the table. I watched my fingers quiver and let it ring. When it stopped, I sought to regain some leverage. ”How's your mother?” Surely that would nudge them away from violence.

They both stiffened. ”We got no way to know. Government's got her locked up,” Tom said.

I spoke carefully. ”I heard she's in a hospital, not in jail. Once you turn yourselves in, you can probably talk to her on the phone or get a doctor's report.”