Hazardous Duty Read Online Free PDF Page B

I’d known her for two years and she’d never
owned a bird.
    She marched ahead, going straight for
the bird, and gazed through the branches. “I’ll need to climb the tree. Can you
guys spot me?”
    She didn’t wait for our answer. She
grabbed hold of a branch and began to climb. Maybe she was part monkey, the way
she swung from the limbs so effortlessly. Darwin
would be proud. The squawking became louder and more frequent the closer she
got, as if the bird was happy to see her.
    “Does she do this a lot?” Riley
whispered.
    I nodded. “She’s an animal right’s
activist, as in full-time, it’s-my-life-mission, animal right’s activist.”
    “Sounds noble.”
    I smiled, knowing he’d find out soon
enough just how noble it was. More like obsessive, in your face, and
hair-brained. But overall, lovable.
    I watched as the bird hopped into the
cage and Sierra slammed it shut. She lowered it to Riley and hopped from the
tree, landing with a plunk in her fuchsia flip flops.
    That was the one thing Sierra and I had
in common—our love of shoes. I was thinking about sending Guinness a notice
about my flip flop collection. I had to have one of the biggest on the East
Coast, everything from camouflage to sparkles. It was the cheapest of shoe
habits, in my opinion. $5.95 and I could add another pair to my collection.
    Sierra’s niece had weaned me from the
platform variety. Told me they were out and then proceeded to take five pair to
the dumpster before I could object. I guess everyone needs someone to keep them
up-to-date fashion-wise. I made sure I hid my toe socks before she saw them,
though.
    Sierra nodded toward Riley. “Looks like
you’re going to have a new roommate.”
    His face registered Sierra’s thoughts,
and he shook his head, handing the cage back to Sierra. “I’m not really a pet
person.”
    “A bird is not a pet. It’s an animal
companion. The word pet is so derogatory.” Sierra thrust the cage into his
hands. “Just keep him until I can find out who the owner is.”
    “I know nothing about taking care of a
bird.” There was no whine to Riley’s voice, only underlying confidence.
“Besides, I wanted to catch the bird so I could sleep, and he was squawking
outside my window. Having the bird in my apartment would defeat my goal.”
    “I have a book in my apartment that will
help you out until we find our feathered friend a home.” Sierra walked toward
the building. “Follow me.”
    I shrugged at Riley and followed, not up
for arguing. I’d stay a few minutes—until he got the bird settled—then head
home.
    Sierra opened the door to her apartment
and pushed aside the beads. We stepped inside and she excused herself, hurrying
toward her spare bedroom.
    I glanced at Riley, trying to read his
expression. He stared at the bandage on my hand. “What happened? That’s fresh.”
    “Accident on the job.”
    “Are you a fire fighter?”
    “I almost was one tonight. A building I
was working in caught fire. I burned myself getting out.” I plopped onto the
couch. “The accidental part is still in question.”
    Riley set the squawking bird on the
vinyl dining room table beside the front door and sat in a chair across from me.
“What do you do for a living?”
    “I’m a crime-scene cleaner.”
    “A crime-scene
cleaner? Really?”
    “It’s a thriving business.”
    He nodded toward my arm. “So, it doesn’t
exactly sound dangerous. What happened to your arm, if you don’t mind me
asking?”
    I glanced at the bandage. “I was
cleaning up after a homicide when someone set the house on fire.”
    “A homicide? Sounds grim.”
    I closed my eyes and saw bits of Gloria
Cunningham’s skull. “You have no idea.”
    Before he could ask more questions,
Sierra bounced into the room, waving a book in her hands. Hand her some
pom-poms and she could join the cheering squad. “I found it.” She handed it to
Riley. “All you need to know about taking care of a bird.”
    He frowned. “And why am I