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Panting, Birdie thundered up to the back door of the Pemberely Pet Shop.  Her chest heaving, she pounded against the metal doorframe.  Beside her, Sassy hopped eagerly, her tongue dangling from her mouth. Behind her, the black cat sat stoically.  Banging on the door with her fist, Birdie turned and eyed the cat.

“Are you ever going to tell me what’s going on?” she asked, glaring into its yellow eyes.  “That would be the polite thing to do, you know.”

Twitching its tail, the cat ignored her.  Rolling her eyes, Birdie raised her fist to pound the door again when it suddenly creaked open.  Birdie stepped back, eyeing the dark crack in the door as a shadowy hand pulled the door back.  Gripping Sassy’s leash, she took a deep breath and stepped through the crack.  As soon as she saw the streetlights flash across a pair of oversized glasses, she breathed a sigh of relief.

“Percy, you scared me.”

“Really?”  Percy looked pleased.  He preened, his large head bobbing on his thin neck.  “I’m a scary guy.”

Knowing it would break his heart if Birdie told him he was as scary as a marshmallow, Birdie said nothing.  Instead, she glanced around.  “Are they here?”

“Detective Michaels and Mr. O’Neal are here,” Percy replied.  “Mr. Pemberely hasn’t made it back from Mrs. Adam’s house yet.  Your mother showed up just as you left and all the ladies had to get their chi adjusted.”  He scowled.  “You never told me your mother was going to be at the party.  We wouldn’t have had to do our magic act then.  Which you also didn’t tell me about.”  Suddenly, his brow furrowed.  “You never told me how you made Max disappear, either.”

“I’m just full of secrets.”  Hurrying into the back room, Birdie headed straight for the large metal door marked office.  Seeing Percy’s hurt expression, she sighed.  “Percy, I didn’t know about my mom until tonight.  And I don’t know how Max disappeared.  I didn’t plan that.  I have a few theories, which are being checked out right now.”  She yanked on the door handle, swearing when it refused to budge.

“You have more theories than anyone I know.”  Detective Michaels strolled up behind her, Mr. O’Neil beside him with a enormous sandwich in one hand  and a paper bag in the other.  He extended it towards Birdie, gulping down a huge bite.

“My wife sent this over.   Frankie told her you’d been sick today and that your mom’s been in the woods with all the hippies and your dad’s holed up in his office, and she’s concerned you’re not eating.  Or as she put it, eating anything other than cereal, milkshakes and fried pickles and burgers from the diner.”

Birdie’s stomach growled in appreciation as she cracked the bag open.  Peering at the contents, she grinned.  “A meatloaf sandwich, apple, banana and thermos of vegetable soup.  Mrs. O’Neil knows me too well.”

“The meatloaf is really good,” Mr. O’Neil assured her, tearing off a huge chunk of his own sandwich.  “And she also said to tell you that if you miss any more school, she will personally see to the situation.  And you’re to have breakfast with Frankie at the diner, because she’s dying to know what you found out.”

Giving her sandwich one last lingering look and silently willing for her stomach to stop growling, Birdie folded the top of the bag and carefully set it on a table next to the metal door.  “I’ll be sure to do that.  Can either one of you get this door open?”

Detective Michaels glanced at Mr. O’Neil, who had both hands wrapped around his sandwich and a pepper dangling from his lips.  “Sure, I’ll try.”

As Detective Michaels stepped past him, Percy twisted his hands nervously.  “I really don’t think we should be going in there.  We should wait until Mr. Pemberely comes back.”

“If we wait until Mr. Pemberely comes back, we can’t get in there,” Birdie replied.

“Why do we want to get in here?” Detective Michaels asked, his lips twitching as his hand paused on the door handle.

Birdie raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms.  Laughing, Detective Michaels gripped the door handle.  “Just checking.”

Pulling against the door, Detective Michaels frowned as it stayed stubbornly closed.  He shook the handle, his brow furrowing as the lock rattled.

“I really don’t think we should go in there,” Percy murmured, twisting his hands around and around.  “He’ll be back at any moment…”

“That still gives us a couple minutes to look around,” Birdie replied, rolling her eyes.  “How else are we going to find anything?”

Mr. O’Neil bounced on his heels, shredded lettuce falling around his feet.  “This is very exciting.  It’s not often I get to snoop around with a cop nearby.  Usually, the cops are yelling at me to get my nose out of their business.”

“Technically,” Detective Michaels grunted, his face red as he slammed his shoulder against the door, “I should be saying that.  But I’ve tried all the proper channels and I can’t find out a thing.  And tonight at that meeting, all I found out was a recipe for artichoke spinach dip and that several of the ladies think my tie is boring.”

“It is.”  Mr. O’Neil grinned, a piece of black olive wedged between his two front teeth.

“Glad to know it.”  With a final grunt and shove, Detective Michaels wedged the door open with a metallic shriek.  Flipping on a light, he peered inside.

“Birdie, you’ve got to see this.”

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

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