Between a Flock and a Hard Place by Donna Andrews

Author:Donna Andrews
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: St. Martin's Publishing Group

Chapter 19

“Up to?” I echoed. “Which boys?”

“Josh and Jamie,” he said. “Do you have others you’ve been hiding from me?”

“No,” I said. “But they’re not the only boys in town. What makes you think they’re up to something?”

“The way they’re acting,” he said. “Distracted and anxious and maybe even guilty. Their friend Adam, too. When they first got here, the three of them kept slinking off to talk about something. They got a little less distracted after Manoj let them borrow his cell phone to make a call. And then I had Manoj take them over to help with his research—intelligence-testing naked mole rats—and they’re acting a lot more normal. But could be he only distracted them. Any idea what they’ve been up to?”

“Possibly,” I said. “Do you think you could ask Manoj what number they called?”

“Already did.” Which revealed how worried he was. He patted several of the million pockets in his faded khaki travel vest, pulled out a slip of paper, and handed it to me.

I glanced at the paper. A local number. And one that looked vaguely familiar. Of course, maybe I only thought that because I recognized the familiar three digits of the local exchange. But I pulled out my phone, checked the contacts app, and bingo! It was Cal Burke’s cell phone. No wonder the number looked familiar. Once Cal had gotten his driver’s license, he’d been very good about playing chauffeur for his two younger brothers. I must have dialed his number dozens of times to coordinate transportation for Adam and the twins.

“Thanks,” I said, handing back the slip of paper. “If it makes you feel any better, I don’t think the boys are in any kind of trouble. In fact, I think they’re trying to help someone else stay out of trouble.”

“And are they going to succeed?” Grandfather asked. “Because it’s sure got them worried.”

“I think they have a good chance of succeeding,” I said. “Since I plan to help them.”

“Good,” he said. “You’ll keep me posted. When’s Randall getting here, anyway?”

“Oh, were you expecting Randall?” I asked. “He didn’t mention it. What’s up?”

“He’s supposed to bring some of his turkey wranglers out here,” Grandfather said. “And some of that chain-link fence. We need to move the turkeys.”

“That’s what I’m here for,” Vern said. “But we need more bodies.”

“I thought you said they could have a happy home here for the rest of their natural lives,” I said. “And you already want to get rid of them? Why—”

“No, I don’t want to get rid of them.” He was frowning furiously. “Of course they have a home here. But not in this enclosure. It’s too small, and the fence isn’t high enough. They were supposed to go over there.”

He pointed to another enclosure. Yes, it was much larger, and had a lot of nice shady trees the turkeys could perch in, and a six-foot chain-link fence instead of the three-foot split-rail one we were all leaning on.

Unfortunately, one of the service roads ran between

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