Legal Seagull

Chapter Ten

The rest of the day eked by at a snail’s pace. I also felt like an ant who’d had its legs trapped in molasses. Well, whatever kind of insect I’d become, I was moving and moving and yet getting nowhere.

By this point, we’d more than half finished Dr. Roman’s audiobook. Nan had taken over the wheel about an hour ago, but still I couldn’t sleep. Somehow, against all odds, Octo-Cat had also stayed awake this entire time. His eagerness to reach our destination was far past being cute… and dangerously close to the point of me putting him in his carrier just to calm him down and give the rest of us a break.

When my phone rang, I jumped in my seat at the chance to answer it. I’d have liked to read a book or play some games, but I always became carsick when I focused my gaze anywhere but on the road ahead.

“Angie?” Charles said when I forgot to offer a hello.

“Yes, I’m here. Sorry. What’s up?” I leaned forward in my seat eager to hear his report.

“I’m just about to leave the firm and head to your place.” He hesitated. “That is, if you still want to speak with Pringle.”

“Yeah, yeah, of course I do. How was your day? Better than it started out?”

He hesitated again, sending my worry into high gear. “Kind of. At least the entire flock didn’t follow me to work.”

“But some of them did?” Why had I ever agreed to help these annoying birds? Yes, they had some serious leverage over me, but I hated that they were practically stalking Charles while I was too far to do anything to put a stop to it.

“Yeah. Well, one of them, anyway.”

“That’s probably Bravo. He’s kind of in charge of this whole legal thing.”

“He’s been sitting at my window all day. Watching. Waiting. I don’t like it, Angie.”

I didn’t like it, either, but Charles needed me to remain calm and handle the situation. “Put him on, please.”

“Just a second.”

I listened as Charles wrenched the window open and whistled for the bird to join us.

“You’re on speaker,” Charles informed me a few seconds later.

“Bravo?” I asked, doing my best to keep my voice calm and even. Authoritative.

“The one and only,” the seagull confirmed.

Okay, the flock worked according to rules and hierarchies. If I could appeal to that, perhaps I could get him to back off. “Why are you stalking Charles?” I demanded. “You hired us to help, and now you have to trust us.”

“No can do. Alpha has given me express instructions to keep a close eye on everything, and that’s exactly what I plan to do.”

“And I’m asking you very politely not to. Charles will work better if you cut him some slack.” I took a shallow breath, resisting the urge to sigh heavily into the phone.

Unfortunately, Bravo remained steadfast in his refusal. “Alpha’s orders are final. Your mate’s going to have a white shadow until it’s go time.”

A white shadow? I didn’t like the sound of that at all and was starting to understand why Charles was so suspicious of what had led to this whole territory dispute in the first place.

“Okay, well, I tried,” I told the bird, and then, “Charles, take me off speaker.”

“Okay,” he said with a huff. “So, what now?”

“Close the window,” I whispered into the phone. “I don’t want Bravo to hear this next part.”

I waited as the window slammed shut with a thump.

“This is getting weird, right?” Charles whispered back.

“I think it started that way, but it’s definitely weird.” I paused and took a moment to figure out a plan. “I’m going to call you back. Let it go to voicemail. I’m going to leave a message for Pringle. Make sure Bravo’s not around when you let him listen to it.”

“But how can I do either of those things? Getting Pringle to listen to me and keeping Bravo away?”

That was a good question. I ran through my options, silently wondering just how well birds could hear. Would Bravo be able to listen in through a closed window? I didn’t know, but I still had to take a chance with this. After all, the alternative was doing nothing to help poor Charles through this mess.

“Um, I’ll call back twice and leave two separate messages,” I decided. “One to get Pringle inside, and one to tell him what we need. As long as you don’t let Bravo into the house, that should give you the privacy you need. You still have the key I gave you, right?”

“I do,” he answered.

“Good. Head straight to my place. Pringle is probably in one of his treehouses, but he might be off collecting secrets from the neighborhood. Can you call me back when you find him?”

“What about the voicemails you’re planning to leave?” Charles wondered.

“Those are just a fail-safe. Call me, and I’ll make sure to stop whatever I’m doing—be it driving or sleeping or whatever—and I’ll give you my full attention. Hey, do you mind hanging around my house for a while if he’s out?”

I could practically hear the cringe in his voice as he said, “Better your place with one seagull than mine with the whole flock.” I really wished I was there with him, and not just because this road trip was driving me crazy.

“Good point. You know you can stay at my place if you need to.”

“Nah. They’ll just move bases, plus Jacques and Jillianne will be furious if I’m not home by bedtime.” He was right, of course. His two Sphynx cats were even more strangely entitled than Octo-Cat.

“Okay, I’ll call right back,” I promised, hating to let him go but also knowing I needed to move things along here. “Remember not to pick up. Love you. Bye.”

We hung up, and I took a few deep breaths before hitting redial. When his voicemail picked up, I raised my voice just south of a shout. “Pringle! Pringle! Charles is looking for you. Come over and talk to him. I’ve left you a top-secret message that will self-destruct in ten minutes whether or not you listen to it. So hurry up and follow him inside. Further instructions await you there.”

Click.

There. I’d appealed to his sense of drama. He wouldn’t be able to resist that.

I texted Charles between calls: “One down, one to go.”

When my second call was routed to voicemail, I laid out the basics of my plan and how it would involve the nosy trash panda.

“Agent Pringle, thank goodness you’ve accepted our call for help.” I reached deep down and pulled out every spy movie cliche I could think of. The raccoon had once thought of himself as a noble medieval knight, but his predilections tended to change based on whatever TV shows and movies he preferred at the time. Right now, he was on a Tom Cruise/ Arnold Schwarzenegger/ Bruce Willis binge, so spy tropes it was.

“We fear our mission might have been compromised and that our supposed allies aren’t giving us all the information. We’ve got a dirty flock and the impending threat of war. Already one flock has gone AWOL, and we need you to find these key witnesses and extract the true nature of their disappearance.”

As I continued to rattle off everything we knew in the most dramatic way possible, I started simply throwing in the names of popular action flicks. The cornier I could make this, the more our little raccoon spy would like it.

“It’s going to be Sum of All Fears around here if we don’t stop this Lethal Weapon from detonating. I’m counting on you to be The Terminator of these lies before somebody Dies Hard. Are you ready to join us on this Mission Impossible, Agent 007? Good, then await my next call for your assignment.”

I hung up quickly. If either Nan or Octo-Cat was paying attention, it was only a matter of time until one of them burst out laughing and spoiled the ruse. Yes, I knew that last part of my plea had made very little sense, but I also knew it would get the raccoon excited and ready to do whatever it took to solve the case.

Operation Raccoon Spy, here we come!