“This is Kerry Palmer,” Chief Gary told me. “Luckily the national database allows us to search wildcards and identifying marks, so by searching for anyone with brown hair and a heart tattoo who lives in Nevada and has a first name starting with the letters ‘Ke’, I was able to find this one. Now, let me look at any known associates.”
Clacking away at the keyboard for a few more minutes, and with me giving him the physical description of the other two men, I was eventually able to put a face and an identity to the three people involved in the smuggling ring. Kerry Palmer was a thirty-four year old woman who had previously been convicted of check fraud and fraud over five thousand dollars. The older man, Thomas Schiff, had so many little misdemeanour charges against him that it would have taken at least two pages to print them all out. The younger man was Trevor Palmer, Kerry’s brother. He had a similar conviction record to her, and I nodded when I saw the photo and it matched the birds’ descriptions.
“Could you print out a picture of their faces for me please?” I asked Chief Gary. “I just want to be able to confirm that it’s them.”
“Sure,” Chief Gary nodded, tapping a button on his computer, and the printer behind his desk whirred to life. “However, I know they live in Nevada, but I do have to ask you not to leave the state, ok?” he told me. “After all, as much as I hate to admit it, you still are a suspect in Matt Smith’s murder since you have no alibi.”
“Don’t worry, I wasn’t planning on it,” I told him, and my heart sank at the realization that I couldn’t go and speak to the three smugglers myself, and also with the confirmation that I was definitely still a suspect. I mean, I knew that I was, but it was different to have Chief Gary actually tell me that I was a suspect.
Still, I had the names of the people who had smuggled Lucy and the other animals into the country. I was definitely getting somewhere!
Chapter 17
As soon as I got home I went out into the stable to check on the birds and to show them the photo. They were doing well; Charlotte had come by earlier that afternoon and let them out for a few hours. They’d flown around the area and marvelled at its beauty, and expressed surprise when I told them that their homeland was at the other end of the ocean which they’d flown over.
“My word, the climate here is so different!” Coolidge said.
“Yes, it’s the same ocean, but it’s the largest ocean in the world. It would take you weeks to fly back home from here; it’s thousands of miles away.”
“What is this ‘mile’ you speak of?” Cherie asked, tilting her head.
“Umm, one mile is one and a half kilometers, or so,” I replied, remembering that they use the metric system in Australia.
“Ah,” Coolidge said, nodding. “That certainly is quite the distance.”
“I’m glad you got to fly around though,” I told them, pulling the pictures Chief Gary had printed out for me from my pocket.
“Oh as are we,” Cherie said. “It was so empowering, to get to spread my wings once more.”
“I’m going to be calling the Department of Fisheries and Wildlife soon, and someone will come to take you back to Australia,” I told them. “You should be home in a few weeks. But first, I’m wondering, if I show you a picture of the smugglers, could you tell me for sure if it’s them?”
“Of course,” Coolidge replied. “We remember their faces.”
“It will be nice to get home,” Cherie said wistfully. “I don’t mean to insult your home, dear, but it is rather cold in this part of the world.”
“No offense taken,” I smiled. Despite Oregon having pretty mild winters compared to large parts of America, I could definitely understand how a bird from Australia would find it practically frigid.
“Yes, those are your smugglers,” Coolidge told me with confidence.
“I agree with Coolidge,” Cherie replied. “You must truly be intelligent to have surmised their identities based only on the little bit of information provided to you,” she told me, obviously impressed.
“Thanks, but with the technology we humans have today it wasn’t that hard,” I replied with a smile. “If it wasn’t for the two of you, I never would have managed to find them.”
I made my way back into the house, where Sophie was busy putting the toppings on a home-made vegetarian pizza. My mouth watered just looking at it, but I had some information to look up. Grabbing my iPad, I started searching different social media accounts for the three names I had. While Thomas Schiff didn’t seem to be the social media type, both Palmer siblings had accounts, and they used them frequently.
Scrolling through Kerry Palmer’s feed, I was amazed at how much traveling she did. There were pictures of her in front of the Eiffel Tower, pictures of her standing under cherry blossoms in Japan, pictures of her with African children. It made me sick to realize just how many trips overseas this woman made, and how many animals she must have smuggled back. I looked through her pictures, trying to get any evidence that there were smuggled animals in her pictures, but unfortunately I had no such luck.
One picture in the feed, however, stood out to me more than the others. It featured Kerry and her brother standing in front of a dark green sign with yellow lettering that read ‘Karibu Tena “Welcome Again”’ and below had the information for contacting the warden of Tarangire National Park. My heart skipped a beat. This had to be it! This had to be the trip where they had taken Lucy! We had the right smugglers!
I looked through Kerry’s feed for a little while longer, then moved to her brother’s. He used Facebook a lot more than Instagram, and I checked out his most recent posts. His most recent post was two hours earlier. He posted a picture of pure desert behind a sign for US Highway 95, and the caption “Heading North. Canada, here we come!”
My heart skipped a beat as I opened Google maps. I was pretty sure… yes! I confirmed with Google maps that taking Highway 95 north from Nevada led straight into Oregon. I looked at the map–they were most likely planning on taking Highway 95 into Idaho, where it linked up with I84, then linked up with I5 in Portland.
I did some quick calculating. They were probably going to drive through the night if they had any smuggled animals with them. After all, it was much too risky to spend the night at a hotel if they had illegally smuggled animals. Animals tended to be unpredictable, and presumably there were at least two of them; Tom’s photo of the highway sign had been taken from the passenger seat of a car.
I immediately called Jason.
“Uh oh, a phone call and not a text? What’s wrong?” he answered jokingly.
“I think the smugglers are going to be in Oregon tonight, and I’m pretty sure I know along which route.”
“And let me guess: you want to drive to somewhere in the middle of nowhere, watching thousands of cars go by on the off chance that you see the one you’re after, and follow them with the aim of getting them to admit to their crimes?”
“Well, when you put it that way, it sounds ridiculous,” I muttered.
“Not at all. I’ll come pick you up in five.”
My heart leapt. I knew it was completely ridiculous, logically, but I had to try. After all, as Chief Gary said, I wasn’t allowed to leave the state. I jumped up and grabbed my purse.
“Jason and I are going to go hunt the smugglers,” I said.
“Aw, can’t I come?” Sophie complained.
“Well, it’s mainly going to involve sitting by a highway all night and hoping we find the right car.”
“Oh, that sounds boring. Never mind. Have fun!”
I grinned and said goodbye as I headed outside, where Jason was already waiting, with two six-packs of Red Bull and about four large bags of chips on the rear passenger seat. I gave him as kiss as I sat down. “Not your first stake-out, I assume?”