The Real Macaw: A Meg Langslow Mystery

shutting her up. Though both effects probably wouldn’t last long.
    “Tie her up,” Grandfather said.
    “With what?” I’d twisted both of Francine’s arms behind her back and was sitting on her. I figured I could probably hold her down until help came. Assuming help didn’t take too long. She was getting her wind back and starting to struggle again. Desperation gave her more strength than I’d have expected and my leg was starting to hurt like hell. If I lost so much blood that I fainted …
    “Here.” I heard a ripping noise. Some small strips of tape landed near me. I glanced up to see him pulling the IV out of his arm.
    “Hey,” I said. “Even if you didn’t need that IV, there’s not enough tape here to hold her. And besides—”
    “Then tie her up with this.”
    He was waving the IV bag with its long trailing cord.
    “Great,” I said. “Except I’ve got my hands full here.”
    It was as much as I could do to hold Francine. And now she had begun kicking everything within reach, trying to knock something down on me. The IV stand barely missed me. Could I manage another stomach punch?
    “Damnation,” Grandfather said. “Let me do it, then.”
    To my astonishment, he looped the IV tube around Francine’s neck and began pulling it tight. Francine stopped trying to kick the furniture and began struggling wildly.
    “Don’t strangle her!” I shouted. “The chief will want a live suspect.”
    “I know what I’m doing,” he said. “Used to tackle Burmese dacoits this way.”
    Francine went limp. Grandfather immediately loosened the tube and began using it to tie her hands. I checked her pulse.
    “Okay, at least you haven’t killed her,” I said.
    “Better her than me,” he growled.
    I retrieved my cell phone.
    “Debbie Anne?” I said.
    “Meg! What in the world is happening there?”
    “Tell the chief to get another stall ready,” I said. “We’ve got the real killer here.”

Chapter 26
    “You should go back to the hospital, Grandfather,” I said. “Dad, don’t you think he should be back in the hospital?”
    Grandfather ignored me, as he had the last dozen times I’d said the same thing since the chief finished questioning us and let us come here to Mother and Dad’s farm for breakfast. I had to admit, from the way my grandfather was packing away pancakes, bacon, eggs, toast, hash browns, and fruit salad, he did look rather like a patient well on the road to recovery.
    “He’ll be fine,” Dad said, from his place by the stove. “He can stay here for a day or two and I’ll keep an eye on him. More pancakes, Dad?”
    Grandfather nodded, shoved the last bite of his current pancake stack into his mouth, and held out his plate.
    I sighed, and looked at my own overladen plate. Maybe escaping a murder attempt had given Grandfather an appetite. Mine was almost nonexistent, thanks to the painkillers Dad had given me for my injury. He assured me that Francine’s bullet had only grazed my leg, and it would heal just fine without any scarring, but right now it hurt like hell, and the painkillers weren’t helping—just making me woozy.
    “Good news!” We all looked up to see Clarence running in, followed by my brother, Rob. “They’ve found the macaw!”
    “The real macaw?” Dad asked.
    “Yes, Parker’s macaw. An animal shelter outside Charlottesville found his cage on their front step yesterday morning. He’s fine. Rob’s going to drive up today to collect him.”
    I peered suspiciously at my brother. Bad enough when he seemed to be on the road to adopting an Irish wolfhound. But better the wolfhound than a foulmouthed macaw.
    “Are you still giving the macaw to the Caerphilly Inn?” I asked.
    “Parker’s macaw? Yes,” Clarence said. “He’ll still be good company for Martha Washington, even if he’s not the same species. But they don’t want him till we’ve done some reeducation. Cleaned up his vocabulary a bit.”
    “So I’ll be taking him down to the Willner Wildlife Sanctuary,” Rob said. “Caroline’s going to rehabilitate him. She’s done it before.”
    “Excellent idea,” I said. “Make sure she teaches him to say ‘Monty, you old goat,’ just the way she does.”
    “And while I’m up there, I’m going to spend some time videoing all her animals.” Rob had joined us at the breakfast table and was loading his plate with bacon and eggs. “Might even stay over a day or two. Assuming it’s okay to borrow your video camera for a