Chapter Fourteen
Despite every reservation about giving the dog free roam of the house, Spike sat at home by himself with only his bone to keep him company while Jess and Wheeler went to talk to Mrs. Doris Klein. The yawning and disheveled middle-aged man who opened the door told them that they’d find her out back and pointed a thumb in that direction. No further instructions followed.
Jess hit her ankle bone on a ceramic frog while going down the porch steps. Mrs. Klein liked yard art. The porch was lined with critters. “I’m putting in for hazard pay.”
“You could have waited in the truck. I’d have cracked the windows for you,” Wheeler said as they rounded the house and headed for the backyard.
“I could have,” she agreed. “But this is my case, too.”
He kept his watchful eyes on guard as they crossed the grass. Since the fire, he’d been overly cautious about her walking into anything that might be a trap. Two attempted murders had upped his alpha. Pretty soon he’d be looking under beds for monsters while toting a shock grenade.
Telling him she had enough alpha of her own to take care of herself would only fall on deaf ears.
As they got near the back of the house, Jess stumbled to a stop. On what she thought might be the property line with the house next door, she spotted a pink flamingo lawn ornament. Not common in Michigan, but not out of the question, either. But the strange part was a cutout wooden pistol stapled to its wing, painted to look like the real thing.
“What the—” Wheeler said.
Cautiously, they kept going. More pistol-packing birds appeared. By the time they stepped into the perfectly manicured green space, there had to be dozens of the armed Flamingoes wearing army fatigues. In the center of it all was a woman clucking her tongue and tossing handfuls of seed at the birds and humming “I Could Have Danced All Night” from My Fair Lady.
“Oh, hey!” She waved when she spotted them gingerly crossing the grass. “Come on in, they won’t hurt you.”
Jess wasn’t worried about the birds. The owner on the other hand…. It was best to stay on the fringe of the yard, just in case. “Mrs. Doris Klein?”
“I am.” She released one last handful and brushed her hand on an apron that said “Clean Kitchen, Dirty Mind”. Covering her head was a clear shower cap and on her feet were boots that looked like yeti feet.
“First Calvin, now this?” Wheeler said to Jess under his breath. His hand hovered at his hip and his Glock. “And you don’t even blink.”
“Ann Arbor is an eclectic town. Normal is what you want it to be.” That was one of the things that made her job fun. Normal was boring. “Flamingo armies need love, too.”
He had nothing to say to that.
The woman bent, vanished in the sea of pink, then came up with an assault rifle. Jess and Wheeler had their guns out before she could straighten.
“Stop! Police!” Wheeler commanded. She stopped. “Put the gun down.”
She lowered the weapon and lifted her hands over her head. “Officer, it’s only an unloaded BB gun.”
He walked toward her, gun outstretched, weaving in and out of birds. She didn’t move as he approached. “Step back.”
Mrs. Klein complied, keeping her hands raised. “Do you have any other weapons on you?” he asked. Jess almost felt sorry for the older lady. The detective was scary when in cop mode.
“I do not.”
He retrieved the gun, did a cursory examination of the piece, and holstered his Glock. He handed it back to Mrs. Klein. She lowered it to her side. Standing amongst her army of birds, she looked like a loony vigilante.
“I could have shot you,” he said sternly. “The damn thing looks real.”
“It’s supposed to. I’m sorry I frightened you,” she said as Jess joined them. The older woman scanned her eyes around her yard and the sea of pink. “You’d probably like an explanation about all this.”
“Yes, please,” Jess said.
The woman pointed over at the house next door. The grass was dead around a dog house that on closer examination housed a large black pit bull. The dog lay staring at them from his open doorway, his head on his paws.
Whether he was mean or not didn’t matter. He looked frightening to Doris.
“My neighbors are nuisances,” Mrs. Klein explained. “They have parties with sketchy characters at all hours and used to let their dog crap in my yard. After finding a third drunken idiot sprawled out in my flowerbed and not getting anything from the police other than them passing out a few trespassing tickets, I decided to do something about it myself.”
She smiled down at her pink army. “No one is afraid of one little old lady. However, they are afraid of a crazy little old lady who carries a gun and feeds plastic birds. Now they keep their dog and friends out of my yard.”
“Smart,” Jess said. “I’d have been leery of you myself.”
Mrs. Klein giggled.
Wheeler wasn’t happy. “Carrying a gun in city limits could get you killed, either by the police or another gun owner. I think you need to rethink your plan.”
The lady sobered. “The police know it’s a fake, and I stay in my own backyard.”
The detective wasn’t swayed. “You’ve proved your point with the birds. At least think about what I said, Mrs. Klein.”
Doris Klein affectionately patted the nearest bird. “I will. And call me Doris.” Her face brightened again and she tugged her shower cap back into place. “Now, why don’t you tell me why you’re here, Officers?”
Wheeler introduced them.
“Oh, you are one of those Brash gals,” Doris said and clapped her hands together. She openly admired Jess. “I used to drive by your office on my way to senior bowling before they closed the alley. I always wanted to be one of those fascinating Brash gals.”
Jess smiled. “I hope you’re not disappointed.” She liked the eccentric lady. Doris reminded her of a female Irving, sans plaid pants.
“Not at all, dear,” Doris exclaimed. “You are just what I imagined. Tough and adorable.”
Although she wasn’t sure what Doris pictured in her mind when it came to Jess and her friends, and she’d never been called adorable, Doris did sound complimentary and Jess took it that way. “Thank you.”
Wheeler, who’d been quietly watching the exchange, stepped up. They had to get back on track or risk spending the entire day with Doris playing fangirl to Jess.
“How’d you like to be an assistant Brash investigator?” he said, and the elderly lady’s eyes lit up. Despite the weird bird thing and the BB gun, she seemed like a nice person. “We’re stumped by this case and could use your help.”
Doris wobbled and appeared ready to pitch over. Before he could offer her help, she leaned on a flamingo and put her hand over her heart.
“Oh, yes. Of course I’d love to help.”
Jess bit her lip, realizing what Wheeler was doing: getting Doris focused as a possible witness and also making her feel like part of the case. Sweet. The man knew how to charm women when he wanted to. Plus, he was an excellent detective. The combination made her want to put her hand over her heart, too.
“What can I do?” Doris focused on Wheeler. “This is so exciting.”
After taking out his notebook, he flipped it open. “You called the tipline about the shooting at the Methodist church last Saturday. You claimed to have seen the sniper. Can you tell me where you saw him and describe what he looks like?”
Mrs. Klein appeared puzzled for a moment, then slowly shook her head. The cap made a crackling sound. “You’re wrong, Detective Wheeler. The shooter was a woman.”