“Now for you, Nolan.” When I said his name, Nolan filled the air with loud, sharp squawks, probably a bird’s equivalent to orders. I changed his water, crumpled up a thick slice of bread into small pieces, and sprinkled sunflower seeds on the floor of his cage. Nolan obligingly hopped in to dine.
I stopped at the front door, looked from Grubster to Nolan, sighed, and went back to scratch and pet Grubster while Nolan serenaded me with squawks between bread bites.
I’d always had dogs growing up. During the past four or five years, though, I hadn’t had a pet of any kind around. As I left, it didn’t seem strange to call back to the two of them, “I’ll be back to get you guys later.”
“Squawk.”
Nothing from Grubster. He was asleep.
I got back to Edgerton in the early afternoon. I stopped at Grace’s Deli and ordered up a tuna salad sandwich on rye bread, with lots of tomatoes and dill pickles. While I ate, I asked Grace how to go about renting a home or an apartment here in town or just out of town, maybe near where Rob Morrison’s small clapboard cottage was.
Grace was strong-willed as a mule, tall and very thin, with a head of salt-and-pepper hair. She smiled at me and said, “Well, I reckon you could go over to the Buttercup Bed and Breakfast, but Arlene Hicks isn’t really high on you being here. Never got it through her head that money is money. She already told you she was all filled up, didn’t she?”
I nodded. “I should have told her that if she wasn’t running drugs, she has nothing to fear.”
“Well, she just might be, you never know. Arlene’s full of deep shoals, lots of secrets. I’ve got it, Mr. MacDougal. Mr. Tarcher owns a little house like Rob Morrison’s. It’s called Seagull Cottage, to the south of town, nearly right on the cliff. It’s empty right now. The last tenants left about a month ago.”
“Excellent.” I finished off my sandwich and rose. “Are you coming to Charlie Duck’s funeral?”
“Wouldn’t miss it,” Grace said. “I have a three-minute eulogy to give.” She smiled, seeing my confusion. “I’m the town Buddhist.”
“You’re a Buddhist?”
“I haven’t made up my mind, but I’m close enough. The thing is, though, that the Buddhists make it very simple for you to reach your heavenly reward. To reach Nirvana, all you have to do is live right, think right, and deny yourself just about everything. That’s something, isn’t it?”
“Where does the line begin?” I asked, looking around.
Grace just cocked her head at me, and I smiled and left. I called the Tarcher house and was surprised when Alyssum himself answered the phone. I told him I wanted to rent Seagull Cottage and I told him why. If he was the one behind having Laura drugged, well, it hardly mattered. He’d find out soon enough anyway where she was. Besides I wanted everyone to know that Laura and I were together and planned to camp right in their own backyard.
“So that’s why I can’t allow Ms. Scott to return to her place. It was Grace who kindly told me about the house you’re renting down on the cliffs.”
Alyssum Tardier said, “Well, Agent MacDougal, this is a surprise. So you’ll be guarding Ms. Scott then?”
I told him there’d be a lot of people near her, that Maggie was setting up a schedule, but I was going to be the main one baby-sitting.
“I’ll tell you what, Agent MacDougal,” Tardier said, pausing for a deep, stentorian breath, “to do my good citizen’s part, I’ll grant you a month’s free rent on the house.” I didn’t have a problem with that at all. I thanked him and made a date to pick up the house key. The only problem I foresaw was getting Laura away from her condo in Salem and down to Edgerton with me. And maybe getting the truth out of her.
I returned to Salem General Hospital, Nolan and Grub-ster on the backseat of the Taurus, the trunk loaded down with three suitcases holding just about everything I could imagine she’d want and need.