“I don’t mind,” Natalie said. “And I think the emu roundup sounds pretty cool.”
“We were talking about a camping trip later this summer,” Michael said. “Why not just go now, with the rest of the family? Tomorrow’s the first day of my break—let’s do it!”
They all stared at me, eagerly. The boys seemed to be holding their breath.
“Why not?” I said.
“We’re going camping! We’re going camping!” The boys began running around yelling at the top of their lungs. Natalie was following in their wake, and looked as if only the grave responsibility of her position as babysitter was keeping her from shouting “We’re going camping!” along with them.
“Of course, that’s assuming we find a campground,” Dad said, joining us at the table. “The closest one seems to be almost as far away from Riverton as Caerphilly is.”
“I have an idea.” I pulled out my phone. “Stanley, do you have Annabel’s phone number?”
“I do.” He took out his phone and began tapping on it. “She tends not to answer it, though.”
“She can’t answer at all if I don’t call,” I said.
He read me the number and I dialed. After four rings, Annabel’s brisk, no-nonsense message told me the number I reached and ordered me to leave a message.
“Miss Lee,” I said. “This is Meg Langslow. I was—”
“What’s the verdict?” Annabel’s live voice interrupted me in mid-message.
“It’s a go,” I said. “Mr. Denton will be back tomorrow to start working on the case.”
“Good,” she said. “See you tomorrow.”
“I have more news,” I said. “Good news, I think. Stanley saw what he thought was an emu while we were leaving town.”
“Yes, we have feral emus running amok around here,” she said. “Cordelia had me write your grandfather, suggesting that he do a rescue on them instead of running off to Africa or Australia or some such place. Never heard back.”
“You will soon,” I said. “When we mentioned seeing the emu, it reminded him that he’d been intending to do something about your problem. He’s organizing a roundup now.”
“Hmph,” Annabel said. “Probably feels guilty that he ignored our problem while your grandmother was alive.”
“Very likely,” I said. “But at least it will get done.”
“And where are you planning to put them when you get them rounded up?” she asked. “We haven’t got the sanctuary set up. The bank that repossessed the land’s being difficult, and so’s the town council.”
“He has a friend who runs a sanctuary,” I said. “She can probably take them, at least in the short term. Though I have no idea if she wants a whole herd of ratites for the long haul, so if you like, I’ll see if I can get Grandfather fired up about your proposed sanctuary. Nothing he likes more than browbeating governments and financial institutions that are standing in the way of environmental progress and animal welfare.”
“Ha!” she snorted. “He just likes browbeating people, period. Cordelia had his number, all right.”
I was opening my mouth to defend Grandfather and thought better of it. After all, we needed her cooperation. Besides, she wasn’t saying anything about Grandfather that I hadn’t said to myself in moments of exasperation. And if anyone had grounds for ongoing exasperation with him, surely Cordelia and Annabel did. I decided to change the subject slightly.
“Speaking of the roundup,” I said. “He’s having trouble finding a campground nearby.”
“Campground?”
“He wants to get the roundup done with maximum efficiency, so he and his team are planning to camp nearby until they finish. Do you know anyone who would rent them a field for however many days it will take?”
Silence. At least thirty seconds of silence. I was just about to ask if Annabel was still there when she spoke up.
“We own the field in back of the house,” she said. “Well, now I own it. I suppose I could let you camp there. How many people are we talking about?”
I looked up from the phone. Grandfather and Dad were sitting at the other picnic table, and already three people I recognized as avid local SPOOR members were sitting with them. Maps and notepads were starting to cover the table. Grandfather was shouting into his cell phone.
“Yes, a full camera crew,” he was saying. “And how soon can you get the editing trailer down there?”
I shut my eyes for a moment. Apparently Grandfather was also going to film the emu roundup for another of his popular Animals in Peril documentaries.