Chief Featherstone strolled back inside the vestibule to confer with some of his men. Grandfather and I stood on the steps of the church. I realized I was feeling a little claustrophobic in the breathing apparatus, so I pushed the mask back and took a few deep breaths. Grandfather followed suit. The air might have smelled pretty bad to anyone who hadn’t been inside the church, but I found it refreshing. Grandfather seemed to feel the same, so we stood side by side for a few moments, breathing and surveying the scene below.
The church looked almost festive now, with the holiday lights twinkling and spotlights illuminating the larger-than-life plaster Nativity scene on the front lawn. You could almost imagine that the small groups of people dotting the parking lot had come to carol. Even the flashing red and blue lights of the fire engines and police cruisers seemed to add a curiously festive note.
“So tell me,” Grandfather said. “Did I sleep through the part where we found out who did this stupid prank and why?”
“No,” I said. “Still a mystery.” Although I wondered if it was necessarily a complete mystery to Chief Burke. Quite apart from the knowledge of Caerphilly and its inhabitants he’d picked up in his years as police chief and deputy sheriff, he was a member of the New Life Baptist congregation. If the church had enemies outside or malcontents within, he probably already knew all about it.
And fat chance getting him to say anything before he was ready.
“Well, time’s a-wasting,” Grandfather said. “We need to get Caroline over here.” His old friend and frequent partner in mischief, Caroline Willner, ran a wildlife sanctuary about an hour’s drive from Caerphilly. “We could use her help with these skunks.”
“I thought you were the skunk expert,” I said.
“Yes, but she’s had a lot more hands-on experience with skunk removals,” he said. “I suppose it’s a little too early to call her.”
“It’s a lot too early to call her.” I pulled out my cell phone and checked the time. “It’s only a little past five. Let me take you home where it’s warm.”
“I should wait till six,” he said.
“You should wait till nine, at least,” I said. “She needs her sleep, especially if you want her to drive all the way up here to—”
“Ah,” he said. “There she is now. She must have heard the sirens, too.”
He hurried down the steps to where he had spotted the short, plump figure of Caroline Willner. Beside her was Mother, looking as tall and willowy as ever in spite of the heavy winter coat she was wearing.
“No one tells me anything,” I muttered as I fell in step beside Grandfather. “I gather she came up for the holidays?”
“And to see my new marmots,” Grandfather said. “We’re having a special exhibit to raise funds for the Vancouver Island marmot. Fascinating creatures.”
“I should have known a mere human holiday wouldn’t be enough to drag her up here,” I replied.
“Merry Christmas, Meg!” Caroline enveloped me in a hug as we joined them.
Mother leaned over to give me a kiss on the cheek.
“Such a relief that it’s not actually a fire,” she murmured. “What are Michael and Rob thinking, volunteering for something so dangerous? You’d think they were still in their twenties.”
I shook my head. If she was expecting an explanation, she’d have to get it from Michael and Rob—I agreed with her.
“We need to help the fire and police departments,” Grandfather was saying to Caroline. “Someone brought a cage into the church that contains twelve Mephitis mephitis.”
“Twelve!” Caroline looked startled. “Oh, my. That’s a very large family group.”
“From what I’ve observed of their behavior, I don’t think they’re all related,” Grandfather said. “Are you missing any skunks?”
“No.” Caroline shook her head firmly. “It’s been an unusually slow season for skunks, ever since about September. Normally this time of year, between nearby county animal control officers and the private companies that specialize in wild animal removals, we’d have gotten a few injured ones to rehabilitate and a couple dozen to rehome, but we’ve only had three all season.”
The two of them immediately drew aside and fell into an intense discussion about whether rabies, distemper, canine hepatitis, leptospirosis, or several other polysyllabic diseases were affecting the local skunk population enough to reduce the number of rescues she was seeing. I focused on whether I should tell the chief about Caroline’s skunk shortage, since it seemed to give a potentially useful clue to finding out where the skunks had come from. If there were any animal control officers or pest removal experts nearby with a grudge against the New Life Baptist Church—