“I see him,” I said. “What makes you think he’s following us?”
“He’s been behind us ever since we left town.”
“Once you get past the town limits there are only a couple of places to turn,” I pointed out. “If you’re not living along the road or staying at the Inn, you’d have no reason to turn off. And this is the only road to take if you’re going to Clay County, and not a bad way to go if you want to get to Route Seventeen.”
“Don’t you think we should at least take rudimentary precautions?” Caroline asked.
“Good idea,” I said. “Shall I fire a few warning shots across his bow with the aft phasers, or just activate the Romulan Cloaking Device?”
“I’m serious,” she said. “After all, there’s a killer loose. We should do something.”
I thought about it for a moment. Then I pulled out my cell phone, punched a few numbers, and handed it to Caroline.
“Talk to Grandfather,” I said. “Have him get a welcoming party ready in case this guy is following us. And then if you’re really worried, call 911 and ask Debbie Anne if they have any patrol cars in the area.”
“Hmph,” she said. “I expect your grandfather can handle it.”
I grew a little more concerned when we turned onto the zoo access road with the van still following. It was a little hard to think of an innocent reason for that, since the zoo wouldn’t open for another hour or so.
When we pulled up in front of the zoo gates, Grandfather and the zoo’s night watchman were standing in front of it. Zeke, the watchman, might have looked like a harmless old geezer if he hadn’t been holding a shotgun, barrel pointed to the sky but clearly ready to swing down and into action if needed. Grandfather was holding leashes attached to two young wolves.
I pulled up a little past them, so they’d have a clear view of the road.
“So what’s with this menacing van?” he asked.
“We don’t know that it’s menacing,” I said. “But it is a little odd that someone would follow us all the way out here.”
We all looked over at the black van, which had slowed to a stop at the same time we’d stopped at the gate.
“Hmph!” Grandfather said. “Not so brave now, is he?”
The wolves whined and snarled a little, and Zeke hefted his shotgun as if testing the balance.
The van started moving again and pulled up a few car lengths behind my truck. Then the driver turned off his engine.
We all waited for a few moments.
“This is ridiculous,” I said. I strode up to the driver’s side of the van, keeping a safe distance. The window rolled down and a face looked out. I’d seen him before, but I couldn’t quite place him.
“The zoo’s closed,” I said. “Why are you following us?”
“I wanted to see what you were doing with the pigeons.”
I remembered him now. The falconer. I’d have recognized him sooner if he’d been in uniform instead of jeans and a black T-shirt. Close up I could see that the shirt had THE ART OF FALCONRY in white letters over a picture of a large hawk chasing a hapless rabbit.
“Why do you care what happens to the pigeons?” I bristled slightly, and took a step closer to the door of the van. “Is your hawk having a craving? Can’t you find something for her to eat that isn’t someone’s pet?”
He flinched as if I’d struck him.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “You have no idea how sorry. I didn’t know those pigeons were pets. If I had, I’d never have flown Sheba at them.”
“Then what were you trying to do?” Grandfather stepped forward and fixed the falconer with his most savage frown.
“Doctor Blake!” People’s faces didn’t usually light up like that when Grandfather frowned at them. “I am such a fan of your work—you have no idea how exciting it is to meet you!”
He scrambled out of the van, grabbed Grandfather’s hand with both of his, and pumped it with enthusiasm. I hoped Grandfather was too surprised to retaliate with his customary bone-crushing grip.
Then again, we still weren’t 100 percent sure that the falconer was on the side of the angels.
“The work you’ve done with breeding endangered raptors in captivity is incredible,” the falconer was saying.
Grandfather began to preen slightly.
“Getting back to those pigeons,” I said. “You claim you didn’t know they were pets?”
The falconer’s face fell again.
“Absolutely not,” he said. “FPF told me they had a major pigeon infestation at their property here in Caerphilly. And they claimed they wanted to do the environmentally responsible thing—to control the infestation with natural predators. That’s where I came in.”