Page 26 of For the Birds

“You thought of everything,” Neely Kate said, patting the moisture off her cheeks with a tissue she dug out of her purse.

“Not everything,” Mr. Whipple said with a sad look. “I didn’t get him a chip. Otherwise, I could trackhim.”

“Um . . . I don’t think they work like that,” I said to ease his guilt.

He glared at me. “So what good arethey?”

I started to answer, then thought better of it. Instead, I pointed to a lawn chair in the cage. “Is that foryou?”

“We hang out together,” he said defensively.

I held up my hand. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything offensive. It just proves you two are close.”

His glare fell. “Weare.”

“So you let him out Wednesday, came home, and then what?” Neely Kate asked.

“He seemed anxious.”

“Birds get anxious?”

“Squawker does. Just like peopledo.”

“Do you know what made him anxious?” I asked.

“I wasn’t sure, but he kept saying, ‘Shut up, you stupid asshole, and clean up the blood.’”

My eyebrow shot up in alarm. “Does he usually talk likethat?”

“No. But I let him watch a show he shouldn’t have watched—one of them Law and Orders—and I’m pretty sure that’s what upsethim.”

“So he mimics what he hears?” I asked.

“Yeah. He doesn’t say anything original. You can’t ask him what he ate for lunch, ’cause he’d have to reason that out. He just repeats what he hears someone else sayin’. He’s said worse than that from watchin’ TV.”

“But you didn’t hear anything like that from him in the morning?” Neely Kate asked.

“No, not until I cameback.”

Neely Kate wrote something in her notebook, then asked, “Is there a Mrs. Whipple?”

“Not anymore,” he said, looking longingly into the cage. “She died ten yearsago.”

“Any girlfriends?” she asked.

He shook his head. “No one can compare to my Angela. So I got Squawker.”

“Where did you get him?” I asked. “There aren’t any pet stores in Henryetta. Did you buy him from someone?”

He shook his head. “I got him from a breeder in LittleRock.”

“Can you give us the name?” I asked.

Anger flashed in his eyes. “I’m not replacin’ Squawker just like that! He’s like mybaby!”

I’d already figured that out. “That’s not why I want it, Mr. Whipple. If you’re certain someone stole Squawker, then we need to figure out why they took him. I want to call the breeder to ask if he’s heard of any other birds being taken. It’s a stretch, but we’re coverin’ all the bases.”

“Oh.” He looked down at a ball in the bird cage. “That’s a good idea. Sorry, I—I just miss him.” His voice broke, and Neely Kate walked over and gave him ahug.

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