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“There’s someone here,” Mr. Pemberely repeated, his voice drawn out in a long hiss.  “Someone who doesn’t belong.”

Closing her eyes, Birdie pressed against the wall.  Maybe if she prayed to one of the dozen different deities her New Age parents believed in, she’d turn invisible.

Sniffing the air, Mr. Pemberely skulked about the small shop.  Several dogs and cats watched with interest.  Most acted like he was not even there, skidding around his ankles as they raced about or barely blinking as he slid by them.  Sassy stayed glued to his heels, creeping inches behind him.  He stopped suddenly, and she slammed into the back of his calves.  Shaking her rust colored ears, she growled.  Birdie shook her head, silently drawing her finger across her throat.

“I know you’re here,” Mr. Pemberely called, addressing the somewhat quiet air.  It was impossible to have a silent shop with dozens of cats and dogs in attendance.   The talking parrot insistent on singing from Carmen didn’t help matters either.  Every time Mr. Pemberely stepped close to Birdie, the singing parrot would burst into a new chorus.  The combination was fraying her last nerve to the point of hysteria.  Pressing even harder against the wall, she tried not to breathe.

“I can smell you,” Mr. Pemberely continued, punctuating his statement with a hearty sniff.  “I know you’re hiding.  Come out now, before I have to ask one of my friends here to help.”  He picked up a large snake.  It coiled around his wrists, slithering around his neck and shoulders.  Sassy stumbled back, growling.  Birdie trembled, swallowing the gasp in her throat.  Snakes were the one animal she had never been fond of.

“Did you know in ancient Greece, people revered snakes for the sick and injured because of the god Aesculapian?” Mr. Pemberely drawled, caressing the snake.  “They thought their tongues could heal any ailment.”  Birdie glanced at the black flickering tongue, unable to force back an involuntary shudder.

“Sadly, it’s not true.”  Mr. Pemeberely turned Birdie’s direction and took another step.  Frozen, all she could do was stare as he took another step towards her.  “Snakes use their tongue to smell, that’s all. Fred here,” he nuzzled the snake, “has one of the best tongues I’ve ever seen.  He sniffed out a rat in a pile of concrete rubble once.”

Horrified by the quivering mass of scales slithering around Mr. Pemberely’s neck, Birdie held her breath.  Mr. Pemberely was only a few feet away.  Growling, Sassy grabbed onto his ankles and shook, ripping the cheap fabric of his pants.  Ignoring her, Mr. Pemberely took another step closer.

“I can feel you,” he murmured.   “I know you’re here.  Just come out.  I won’t be mad.”  He took another step.  The snake coiled tighter around his arm and shoulders.

Barking hysterically, Sassy leaped in front of him.  Smiling and waving, Mr. Pemberely stepped over her.  Birdie could do nothing but stare as he came closer and closer. Suddenly, his eyes met hers.  Her head spun and she couldn’t breathe.

“Yo!”  A shout made them both turn.  Leaping out from a pile of bird cages, Frankie’s father stumbled out into the center of the floor.  Several dogs charged forward, hopping and yapping madly.  Several cats raced toward the birds, their eyes glittering with interest.   Shaking a cage off his foot, Frankie’s father held up his notepad and shook it.

“Leave her alone, Pemberely.  I’m the press.  You don’t want to harass a kid while I’m here.”

“Kid?” Mr. Pemberely cocked his head.  “We have no goats, I’m afraid.  Why were you hiding in my bird cages?”

“We’ll talk about that later,” Frankie’s father snapped.  “I want your assurance you’ll leave Birdie alone.”

“I have several birds, sir,” Mr. Pemberely replied, his feline features puzzled.  “Including our wonderful Roberto, who has been providing the evening’s entertainment.”  He gestured toward the singing parrot, who had switched to singing commercial jingles.  “But I’m not sure what specific Birdie you’re talking about.”

Frankie’s father glanced at Birdie.  She shook her head, putting her finger to her lips.

“You don’t see a little girl here?” he asked.  Birdie rolled her eyes and slumped against the wall.

Mr. Pemberely’s forehead crinkled.  He sniffed the air.  “There’s no child here, sir.  If you lost your little girl I’m terribly sorry, but she’s not here.”

Birdie’s jaw dropped.  Frankie’s father gaped at Mr. Pemberely, then shook his head.  Trying not to glance at Birdie, he tapped his notepad.  “I’m here to do a story on you, Pemberely.  What kind of racket are you running here?  Where’s all the animals?”

Mr. Pemberely’s lip twitched.  “You don’t see the animals?”

“I see a couple birds, lizards, fish….”  Frankie’s dad blanched.  “That giant snake you’re wearing as a necklace.  That’s it.”  Several of the dogs looked offended, while the cats sprinkled around him looked pleased.

Mr. Pemberely smiled.  “Why do you want an interview?”

“I want to know what you’re doing here,” Frankie’s dad demanded.  “The public has a right to know.  What are your plans, Pemberely?  What do you want from this town?”

The smile had melted off Mr. Pemberely’s face.  Scowling, he shook his head.  “The public and I don’t get along, Mr.–”

“O’Neil,” Frankie’s dad replied.  “Patrick O’Neil.”

“Mr. O’Neil, I don’t deal with the public,” Mr. Pemberely replied.  “I don’t deal with many, I’m afraid.  Now, if you’re not here to take home a bird or purchase something or find a lost child, you need to leave.  Don’t make me call the police.”

“You wouldn’t,” Frankie’s dad snorted.  “Then you’d have to reveal yourself to them.  And my guess is you don’t reveal yourself to many people either.”

Mr. Pemerberely snarled. “In that case, don’t make me call my animals.”  The snake raised his head, his glittering black eyes a piercing gaze directed toward Mr. O’Neil.

Frankie’s dad’s eyes flicked towards Birdie, then toward the door.  She nodded, sliding silently across the wall.

“You’ll have to make me!” Frankie’s dad shouted, slamming birdcages together and knocking off a shelf of dog treats as he pretended to trip.  The treats slid off the shelf and burst open.  Dozens of dogs fell upon them, their tails wagging as they gulped the free treats down.  “You’ll never get me out without a fight!  The public has a right to know!”

“My shop!” Mr. Pemberely shrieked.  “You’re wrecking my shop!”

Scooping up Sassy, Birdie hurried out the back door and tumbled into the ally.  She smacked straight into something hard and brown.  Glancing up, she met a pair of amused warm brown eyes.

“Hello, Birdie,” Detective Michael said.  “Guess you decided to do some investigating after all.”

Stay tuned, Invisible Friends!  Tomorrow we have a delectable recipe and Friday, a new Dallas Jean!  Stay tuned!