The Money Bird (An Animals in Focus Mystery) Read Online Free PDF Page A

faithful dog.” He gave me a quick kiss, whispered “I think she’s here for a while,” and left.
    I tried to listen closely to Goldie, but couldn’t keep my thoughts from wandering. If Moneypenny was planning to develop the area around his spiritual center, there would be more people than Goldie eager to stop him. Especially if he was planning to build “weird things,” whatever that meant.
    “What do you mean by ‘weird things,’ Goldie?” I asked.
    “An aviary, for one. Big one.”
    That didn’t seem too weird to me, although I wasn’t sure how it fit into a Spiritual Renewal Center. If there was something odd about his proposed buildings, though, could there be a connection between his plans and the bloody bag Drake had found? I didn’t care what anyone said, I was sure the stain on the bag was blood, and the thought of what that might mean made my stomach turn. I set my half-eaten cookie on a napkin and put the kettle back on. I could tell that Tom was right, Goldie did seem to be good for at least another hour. Still, it wasn’t even ten. I realized that I was disappointed that Tom had left, and a little angry at both Tom and Goldie. What were they hiding from me? And what in the world was going on at Twisted Lake and Treasures on Earth? I was suddenly determined to find out, with or without their help.
    eight

    The next morning I was out the door early despite the fog in my brain from lack of sleep. Goldie had stayed until nearly midnight. I tried several times to steer the conversation to her health, but she was on a roll about land-raping developers and crazy cult leaders, and she dismissed my concerns about her with a cheery, “Bah! I’m fine , Janet!” By the time she left and I’d showered, taken Jay out one last time, and locked up, it was nearly one a.m. Even then I tossed and turned for at least another hour, pondering the meaning of Drake’s bag and its contents, Goldie’s evasiveness, and the likelihood that I would oversleep.
    I didn’t. I woke up about two minutes before my alarm was set to go off and dragged myself out of bed. A prominent women’s magazine had commissioned a photo essay on a day in the life of a woman veterinarian, and I was scheduled to spend every day that week traipsing around my vet’s clinic with my camera. It’s a two-vet office. Jay and Leo usually see Paul Douglas, but I would be shadowing his partner and, as it happens, his wife, Kerry Joiner. Dr. Kerry Joiner had officially linked up with Dr. Paul Douglas, in business and in life, a couple of years ear lier. I knew her mostly from dog-training classes and dog shows. She was perfect for the magazine article—five years out of Purdue vet school, petite and perky as the Pomeranian she owned, strong enough to hoist a hundred pounds of dog onto an exam table, and lots of fun to be around.
    The clinic was in turmoil when I arrived. The lobby, at any rate. One of the two veterinary technicians had called the week before from Key West and announced that she wasn’t coming back. The other called in sick half an hour before I arrived, and the second receptionist wasn’t due until nine o’clock. Peg, the office manager, was scurrying between the clamor of Monday-morning phones and the chaos of Monday-morning clients. This particular Monday morning was deafening, and as I walked by the front desk I heard Peg mutter something about sedatives.
    I spotted my across-the-street neighbors, Mr. Hostetler and Paco, the Chihuahua, at the far end of the waiting room. Mr. Hostetler’s five-year-old grandson, Tyler, was leaning into his grandpa and gently stroking Paco. I waved as I asked Peg, “What can I do?”
    Peg turned grateful eyes my way and slapped a file folder into my hand. “Any chance you could escort the Willards to exam room one?”
    I had the oddest vision of rats, and realized the name made me think of that old movie about a kid named Willard who sicced his trained rodent on his enemies. Turned out in