A Bobwhite Killing Read Online Free PDF

backed up a few more steps.
    “He can’t hurt you, Bob. The fence—the invisible electric one—is solid. It’s a big improvement over the old electrified fencing Kami was using on the other side of her property. That fencing was frying some very unlucky coyotes. She shut it down a while ago. We worked with a security equipment company out of St. Paul for the new system. Secure A-Man was the name. The owner is an old friend of Kami’s.” He chuckled into his beard. “Still, I bet they never considered they might be securing a tiger. ”
    He nodded at Nigel, who had flopped back on the ground. “Besides, he’ll be groggy for a little while. I’ll probably track him with the remotes for the rest of the afternoon just to be sure he’s shaking off the shock okay. You boys done here?”
    “Yup,” Tom and I both answered. I guessed neither one of us was too excited about sticking around until Nigel woke up. Not that I doubted the security of Eddie’s fence—my old buddy knew his stuff when it came to electronics.
    I’ve just never been a cat person.
    Especially when they weigh over three times more than I do.
    My cell phone rang in my pocket. I took it out and flipped it open.
    “Bob, you better get back here.”
    It was Bernie.
    “Shana’s stepson is here, and he’s raising a real ruckus. Says he’s calling the sheriff to arrest Shana for killing his dad.” She paused a moment, and I could hear two voices yelling in the background. “I don’t think he likes Shana, Bob.”
    From what I could make out of the shouting, I’d say Shana didn’t like her stepson much, either, unless “bastard” was an O’Keefe family term of endearment.
    “We’re on our way,” I told Bernie.
     

Chapter seven
     
    By the time Tom and I arrived back at the Inn & Suites, the sheriff’s car was parked in front of the lobby entrance. I came in through the automatic sliding door and started down the hallway before I remembered I didn’t know which room was Shana’s.
    Then I realized I didn’t need to know which room she was in, because I could hear the yelling almost all the way out to the lobby. Heck, they could probably hear the yelling all the way to the next county, for that matter. As it was, the door to her room was wide open and I almost had to fight my way through the crowd of our fellow birders that blocked the hallway.
    “I want her arrested!”
    Just inside the room, Chuck O’Keefe had his face inches from Sheriff Paulsen’s. For his sake, I hope he’d used mouthwash because he’d need every bit of leverage he could get to make friends with that sheriff. After spending a good portion of the morning being thoroughly questioned by the lady lawman—make that lady law woman —I knew that Sheriff Paulsen was one tough cookie and wasn’t about to let some man from the city tell her what needed to be done in “her” county. On top of that, she’d actually seemed to warm up to Shana after we’d settled into her squad car this morning for the ride to the police station to make our report.
    “Sorry about the bumping,” she’d apologized as we jolted onto the blacktop that led back to town. “Some of these county roads can do a real number on a car’s suspension—even police cars that are practically built like tanks. You doing okay, Mrs. O’Keefe?”
    Of course, that might just have been the sheriff trying to be nice to the pregnant lady. Once Sheriff Paulsen saw how awkward it was for Shana to climb into the cruiser’s back seat, she’d probably figured she was going to have to get a car-sized can opener to get Shana back out. I wondered how quickly the Minneapolis police department could get a Jaws of Life to Fillmore County.
    Seeing Paulsen stare down Chuck now, I had to admit that I was glad to have the sheriff on our side because I was fairly sure that if Chuck thought he could bully her into doing what he asked, he had another thing coming.
    Or maybe even a pair of handcuffs, courtesy of Fillmore