Well Read, Then Dead(69)
Before we left, we gave Doctor Mays our contact information along with the teal blue ribbon Bridgy bought at the Emporium. The doctor bade us good night and promised that Bow would be gorgeous the next time we saw her.
On the way to Augusta’s house Bridgy and I worked out a plan. The way news spread around the island, Augusta may well have heard about Skully. We would tell her the happy news about Bow. If she mentioned Skully, we’d admit that Bow was with him. If she didn’t question, we wouldn’t say a word.
A haggard-looking Augusta was already in her pajamas no matter that it was still daylight. Happy as she was that Bow was found and safe, she couldn’t shake the faded look of someone whose life had been irretrievably changed.
“That Doctor Mays, she loves her animals. Just seeing her will do Bow a world of curing. But we got to find Bow a home.” She looked at us and raised an eyebrow. “I don’t suppose . . . ?”
I shook my head. “Apartment dwellers.”
“Won’t work then. Apartment’ll kill her for sure. Watching a bird fly by the window, out she’ll try to go. I’m sure you’ll do your best to get someone to give her a happy home.”
Doctor Mays, Augusta, everyone was holding us accountable for Bow’s safety and happiness.
“Speaking of getting, you find them wreckers yet?”
The past few days I’d barely had time to comb my hair, and I absolutely did not want Miss Augusta to know about my run-ins with Bucket Hat, so I smiled brightly and promised that my next stop was to scout out the research desk at the library, hoping to find anyone who’s showing interest in sunken galleons and the like.
She leaned back and her shoulders relaxed. “Okay, then, I’ll hear from you shortly.”
When we got in the Heap-a-Jeep, Bridgy checked the time on her phone.
“We could rush over to the library with about twenty minutes to spare before closing time. We’re not likely to be able find out much in those few minutes. I say we visit Miguel.” As a practical matter she added, “The hospital stays open for visitors far later than the library.”
It made sense. How much could I really find out in a few minutes, and besides, I was wondering if Miguel was still full of sparkle, or if his broken leg was starting to wear him down.
We made a quick stop in the gift shop again and were surprised to find Miguel in bed instead of tearing around the room in his wheelchair or on crutches. Our balloons were still flying high, although now the three were a colorful bouquet, all tied to a cup hook someone had screwed into the wall several paint jobs ago.
“¿Qué pasa? How is my kitchen?” His smile was less manic than yesterday, so I suspected the dosage of his pain meds had been reduced.
Instead of answering, I dropped a fluffy toy cat right on the edge of his bed. It wasn’t quite as coal colored as Bow, but with a red ribbon tied cheerily around its neck, it was a sweet imitation. “Bow is fine. Sheriff’s deputies found her at the Point and she’s at the veterinarian right now.”
Miguel’s head drooped and I noticed he pushed the cat off to the side.
“What? I thought you’d be happy. Are you okay? Is something wrong?”
“Nothing wrong. I am pleased that Bow is safe. I wonder how you are managing in the kitchen. Ophie is an okay cook, but . . .”
He didn’t need to worry about that right now. I swallowed the urge to tell him Ophie was driving us crazy. We both reassured him that the café was humming along, and we passed on greetings from some of the regulars.
“Sally Caldera stopped in to ask if you wanted her to reserve any specific books to keep you entertained during your recovery. She’s so thoughtful. Any books you can think of?”