"He's right, actually," Nan said, nodding thoughtfully. "I never thought of it exactly like that, but it's true. Why just last week, Grant and I—"
"Ssshhhhh," Octo-Cat hissed again, and we all fell silent listening to Dr. Roman’s words fill the car.
Was I being unfair to this book, or was I simply cynical about romance? Charles had always been the more romantic of the two of us, and I'd always been more than happy to let him take the lead. Did I owe it to him to try harder?
Ugh.
Whether or not I liked Dr. Roman, the truth was we were all going to be stuck in this car together for quite some time. I could at least listen to what Dr. Roman had to say. Especially considering Nan and Octo-Cat now hung on his every word. Even little Paisley sat with both ears erect as she happily squinted her eyes in that special way Chihuahuas do when they are completely content with life.
I listened without complaint as Dr. Roman delivered his list of seven must-haves for creating romance, and I said nothing when he launched into his guided meditation for romantic mindfulness. But by the time he started in on the aphrodisiac effect of certain foods and beverages, I’d had enough.
“Let’s stop for coffee,” I said, then let out a giant, demonstrative yawn.
“Shhhhhh,” all three of the others hissed at me.
Even though they were talking to me, it was Dr. Roman’s voice that quieted as a ringing sound poured out of the car’s speakers.
Nan pressed a button on the radio and Charles’s voice filled the car. "Hey, how's the drive going?" he asked.
"I hope you don't mind, dear," Nan said, "but I hooked your phone up to the Bluetooth because I knew your fellow would be calling before too long. Looks like I was right.”
I smiled, so incredibly grateful for the distraction I could have cried. "Totally fine," I told both Nan and Charles since it applied to both of the things they’d said. "We’re making good time. How are things there?"
Charles sucked in a sharp breath.
And that was all I needed to know good news wouldn't be coming.
Chapter Nine
"The flock is here," Charles whispered into the phone. “They’re in my front yard. Dozens of them.”
"What?" I shouted, eliciting a fresh string of complaints from the crabby tabby in the back seat. “Why?”
"I don't know. I can't exactly talk to them on my own,” Charles pointed out, and of course he was right.
"Do you want me to turn around? We've only been at it a few hours. I can come back. You don’t have to deal with this on—”
Even before I finished that offer, Octo-Cat flew forward from the back seat, scaring the life out of me. When he landed on my lap, claws and all, I swerved into the next lane. Thank goodness, the road was still mostly empty on this stretch.
"Easy there, girl," Nan said, stroking the dashboard of her car lovingly.
"Is everything okay?" Charles asked, his worry echoing around the car’s cushy interior.
"No, we're fine. But I guess I'm not turning around."
“You better not be," Octo-Cat warned, digging his claws into my thighs once again to emphasize his point.
"Do you want to put me on FaceTime or something?" I offered meekly. “So that I can talk to the seagulls for you?”
“It’s okay. I mean, it’s definitely unnerving, but I think they're just keeping an eye on me," he said.
The tap turned on, and the sound of fresh water rushing into his empty coffee pot gave me a wicked craving for my favorite caffeinated beverage. Oh, how I wished I was there with him rather than on this obnoxious road trip.
"They must've followed me home last night," Charles continued. "I'm getting that they don't trust me."
"I don't know much about birds," I admitted as we passed a semi-truck on the left. "They've never been willing to talk to me before now, but my guess is they just want to make sure you don't forget about them." I shrugged even though he couldn't see the gesture.
"Well, it makes me uncomfortable," he informed me. "Whenever I look out the window all their beady eyes snap to me. They’re sizing me up. It's unnerving, really."
"I'm sorry." And I truly was sorry. "I shouldn’t have asked you to—”
"No," he cut me off. "I want to do this for you. For your family. I’m just not sure I totally understand what's expected."
I opened my mouth to argue, but Charles still had more to say.
"I researched case precedents last night before going to bed. You know, just in case those things matter to seagulls, and I did find a few cases that could work. Winning this for the flock should be pretty simple, but whether or not we can win isn’t what concerns me here.”
"It's having the whole flock camping out in your yard," I finished for him.
"Yeah. It doesn't seem right. Why don’t they trust me? What do they expect me to find?”
"You don't think they told us the full truth about the war?" I asked.
"Or the disappearance of the other flock," he confirmed. Coffee now gurgled and brewed on Charles’s side of the conversation.
“Do you think there's something important we’re missing here?” I prompted while my mouth salivated for the hot bitter rush of that coffee.
"I definitely think it's worth checking out,” he agreed. "I know they're just birds, but still I'd like to know the truth."
"I wish I were there to help," I moaned. "It feels wrong to be so far removed from the situation, especially since you wouldn’t even be doing this if it weren’t for me."
I still hadn't told Nan about Bravo’s offer to introduce me to my long-lost bio grandma, so I chose my words carefully while speaking to Charles now. "I'll be back before you have to go to trial."
"These birds are definitely going to keep me on task until then. I honestly worry about what they'll do if they think I'm ignoring their case. It almost feels like they’re some kind of avian mafia here. Ugh. If only there was some way to find that missing flock," he said thoughtfully.
“Actually, there is a way," Octo-Cat piped in from the back seat.
"Hang on," I told Charles. "It seems Octo-Cat has an idea."
"Not an idea," he corrected with a haughty snort. "The solution.”
He wasted no time in continuing, "I don't know all the details—or really any of the details—about this seagull stuff. You know, since somebody didn’t deem this new case important enough to tell her partner about.”
I held my tongue to avoid another pointless argument. But when had there been time to tell him? I was out until all hours working on his honey-do list last night, and today I’d been focused on driving while he filled every spare moment with either talk of Grizabella or lackluster advice from Dr. Roman.
"Anyway, as much as I hate to admit it," Octo-Cat continued. "Our top spy stayed home."
"Our top spy?" I asked. It was rare Octo-Cat admitted that anyone could do anything better than him, especially a task he enjoyed as much as spying.
"Yeah, the raccoon."
"Oh," I mumbled. "That's not a bad idea."
"Of course it's not a bad idea. It came from me."
"What?" Charles asked. "What did he say?"
"Pringle," I explained in one single word.
"What about him?" Charles wanted to know.
"Well, he can talk to the birds for you and he loves gossip. I'm sure you don't even have to ask for his help. You just have to talk about the problem near him and he'll go explore it on his own.”
"Is that what you want me to do?"
"Yeah, I think it's a good idea. Especially if it puts these questions to rest for you."
"Okay," he agreed, taking a slurp of coffee that made me incredibly antsy in my coffeeless state "I'll go over to your place after work and see what I can do.”
"Great. If you want, you can FaceTime me once you’re there. I’ll tell Pringle what we need him to do."
"I love you," Charles said before taking another noisy sip.
I told him I loved him too and said goodbye. When we hung up, Dr. Roman's voice immediately came bursting back through the speakers. No, no more. I needed at least some kind of break from him, so I turned the radio off.