Cornwall and Redfern Mysteries 2-Book Bundle. Gloria Ferris

a few feet farther away from the perch.

      “Aw, come on, darlin’, take one for the team,” begged the bird in Dougal’s wheedling tones.

      Dougal reached over and broke off a piece of chicken and handed the morsel to Simon.

      “Does Simon know he’s eating poultry, effectively committing cannibalism?” I asked.

      “Simon isn’t poultry. Now, can you pay attention here?”

      “I never knew it could be like this,” Simon said in a female voice. It sounded familiar, probably Melanie again. I glared at Dougal, but since he was such a self-absorbed snot, he didn’t notice. At least the parrot wasn’t yelling about pot.

      I took a closer look at Dougal. “Hey, what happened to you? You look, uh, not bad today.”

      Actually, he looked better than I had seen him in over a year. His hair was expertly buzzed, without the dips and rises I left when I used the manual clippers on him. And he had doffed his usual baggy shorts and stretched tee-shirt for pressed trousers and a short-sleeved red shirt. He still wore sandals, but his feet were …

      “Did you get a pedicure? Dougal, you’ve been out!”

      “Calm down, will you. I finally found a hairdresser in town who would send someone in to cut my hair. She also gave me a pedicure and manicure.” He stretched out his hands and I could see that someone had filed and buffed the nails.

      “That’s wonderful. You’re really coming along.”

      “Yeah, I’m doing great,” he said modestly. “Pretty soon, you won’t need to run my errands or pick up my food for me. Although, I’ll still need someone to weed my gardens and cut the grass. And take the trash to the curb.”

      “You honour me.” It looked like the pittance I earned from Dougal would soon be a half-pittance. Well, things were changing fast and I had better be ready to make the most of the emerging opportunities. I made a mental note to find a nice park and stake out my bench for the winter.

      Dougal assumed his lecturing stance, or, as I liked to put it, went into snore mode. “From these latest pictures, I now believe that Thor and Sif will flower within an hour or two of each other, with Sif perhaps slightly ahead. This couldn’t be better. The female flowers mature first and about twenty-four hours later the male flowers produce pollen. I’ll gather Thor’s pollen and Glory will do the same for Sif’s.” Dougal put out his hand as though to touch his palm to Thor, but stopped short of making actual contact. “I’m going to be videotaping it all on a time sequence. Are you getting this, Bliss?”

      I nodded, although it was beginning to sound more like a porn movie than a botanical experiment.

      “Let me recap. The female parts of both plants will flower within a few hours of each other. We wait approximately twenty-four hours for the male flowers to produce pollen. You will stand ready to take Thor’s pollen to Sif, where Glory will immediately pollinate Sif’s female flowers. You will return here with Sif’s pollen, and I will manually pollinate Thor’s female flowers. Hopefully, the female flowers of both plants will still be receptive, keeping in mind that they have been ripe for twenty-four hours. Got that, Bliss? Do you understand how crucial it is for you to be on standby and deliver Thor’s pollen to Glory, then Sif’s here to me?”

      “Yeah, crucial. Standby. Got it.” In truth, Dougal lost me way early in his lecture, but my role seemed to be limited to making a few trips between the plants to deliver pollen. And someone would no doubt tell me which way to go first, so there was no need for me to get overly involved in the science.

      “Okay, you can leave now. I’m having company, so take your shabby underwear out of my dryer and whatever food you haven’t eaten, and go.” Dougal shooed me out of the room.

      “Your other plants look ready to pollinate too, Dougal. Don’t you have to do something with them, like get them the hell out of the house? I’m telling you, the police are very interested in marijuana these days.”

      “It’s ready to cut and dry. I’m doing much better now, with the therapy, and a Valium now and then to take the edge off. I think this will be my last harvest.”

      “Glad to hear that,” I said, relieved he was coming to his senses. “Why don’t you just get rid of it now?”

      “What am I supposed to do with it? If I burn it in the backyard, the whole neighbourhood will be high. And I can’t exactly put an ad in the paper: Mature Cannabis Plants for Sale. This crop will last me a few years, and by then, who knows, it might be legal to grow your own.”

      “I thought you said you weren’t going to smoke the stuff anymore.”

      “When did I say that? I’ll still smoke once in a while on social occasions. What do you think people do when they have a party?”

      “Uh, eat, drink, talk?”

      “You are quite the little innocent, aren’t you? What did you do at university when everyone else was stoned?” Dougal was shoving items from the fridge and cupboard into a plastic bag and glancing at his watch every few seconds.

      “Worked in my spare time to help the Weasel through law school,” I replied, thinking I could remember every party we attended at university, there were so few of them.

      “Well, that worked out well, didn’t it? You would have been better off having a little more fun.” He shoved the bag and a bottle of water into my hands. “Here, drink this. You’re looking a little dry around the edges. Got your underwear? Good. See you bright and early in the morning. Don’t be late again.”

      I sniffed my armpit.

      “What are you doing that for?” Dougal backed away quickly.

      “I can’t remember when I had a shower last. I have to use your bathroom before I go.”

      “Oh, no you don’t. You’ll just have to smell yourself until tomorrow. Company’s coming, and I have a few preparations to make.”

      “Like lighting some candles and uncorking the wine? Or maybe rolling a few?”

      “None of your business.” He shut the door on me, an affront I was growing used to.

      I did consider, once again, hanging around to catch Melanie in the act, at least see what she looked like. But something Dougal had said about the parties at university triggered the ghost of a memory. It was a long shot after so many years, but suddenly I was in a hurry to get back to the trailer, my fear of Hemp Hollow’s threatening shadows forgotten for the moment.

      Maybe, just maybe, I had a spare ace up my blackmailing sleeve.

      Chapter

       SEVENTEEN

      I noticed the stench first. My preoccupation nearly caused me to miss the low growling, but even had I been in a coma my nose would have detected the fetid reek emanating from the forest behind me.

      Hugging my bag of food close to my chest, I turned my neck and saw the unblinking green eyes cutting through the black night. A snarl preceded another wave of wild animal scent. Bear!

      My feet flew between the trailers and around to my stoop. I was certain I heard the bear crashing through the underbrush, snapping at my heels. This time the key found its mark at first try. Lucky, since I wouldn’t have had a second chance. As soon as I slammed the door shut and shot the bolt, a heavy thud sounded against the trailer wall, followed by a menacing growl. Starving bears were known to move down the Bruce Peninsula this far south in search of food, and I had heard stories of bears actually tearing doors right off their hinges.

      The skin on my neck tightened as I waited for another assault on my aluminum door. I should have my bat, I thought, but the logical part of my mind knew a bat was no protection against a bear. I ran to my bedroom to get it anyway, stealing a peek out the tiny window. Nothing.

      The bat under my arm, I pulled out my cell to call 911. I punched