Free Just Add Trouble (Hetta Coffey Mystery Series (Book 3)) by Jinx Schwartz Page B

think you two are a perfect match. Parrots sort of belong on boats.”
    “I meant the jerky. You are kidding aren’t you? None for me?”
    “Ask Trouble, maybe he’ll share. After all, you are shipmates.”
    “This is not a pirate ship, and it doesn’t need a parrot. What am I supposed to do with him?”
    “Oh, he likes a banana for breakfast with his jerky and lots of sunflower seeds, in the shell. He prefers shelling them himself, and he doesn’t throw the husks too far from his perch. Loves jalapeño peppers. Once a day, take him for a drive. He flies, you drive. If you want him back, just whistle, which you might want to do if he gets near any Mexican men.”
    “I didn’t want his schedule and culinary preferences and you know it. I have to go back to Oakland and, by the way, Mommy, that is in California. What will I do with him when I leave?”
    “Take him with you?”
    “Are you kidding? Even if he wasn’t illegal in California, it would be easier to get Osama Bin Laden with a suitcase nuke strapped across his chest past the border guardians than a bird. No way in hell will they let him back in, even if they believed he came from the US.”
    “Oh, dear, we didn’t think of that.”
    “And speaking of, how did you ship him here? I don’t know for sure, but I’ll bet the Mexicans aren’t wild about importing birds either.”
    “Well, you remember Pancho, who’s doing our patio tile? He took Trouble with him when he drove south to visit his sister in Piedras Negras, then shipped him. I think Pedro was glad to get rid of Trouble. They don’t get along, you know.”
    “No, I don’t know. Was it something I did as a child? Why didn’t you send Trouble to my sister?”
    “Your sister lives in Colorado. He’d be cold. So nice of you to call, dearest. Your father and I are leaving in the RV tomorrow, so I guess we won’t be talking for awhile.”
    “Why can’t you two get a cell phone, like the rest of the world? Or, here’s an idea, get on the Internet? Do e-mail?”
    “We don’t care for such things.”
    That’s the truth. It is a miracle they learned how to switch channels on the satellite system I talked them into only a year ago. Until then, they were living with a roof antenna, rabbit ears and five whole channels of snowy TV. Now they are hooked on the BBC. Dad is especially fond of Antiques Roadshow and Absolutely Fabulous .
    I sighed in resignation. I know when I’ve been nailed by the velvet hammer. “No word from Aunt Lil, I presume?”
    “I received a postcard from Mexico.”
    At first I was dismayed to be in the same country as my least favorite auntie, but then I perked up, thinking I might dump the winged varmint back into his rightful owner’s lap. “Where in Mexico?”
    “Hold on.” I heard a rustle of paper. “It’s a hotel on a beach.”
    “Gee, that should be easy to find down here. Let’s see, I’ll put out an APB for a silver haired tourist in some beach hotel in Mexico. That should take us right to…hey, what is Aunt Lil’s last name these days?”
    Silence.
    “Lemme guess, Mom, you don’t know.”
    “Yes I do, but I don’t like your tone of voice. Her name is Lillian Seagren, and if you’re going to be sarcastic, I’m hanging up.”
    “Seagram? That’s appropriate. Sorry, don’t hang up, I’ll be good. Is there a postmark and date?”
    “Let me get my glasses. Looks like…two weeks ago from M-a-z…”
    “Mazatlan?”
    “Yes, that’s it.”
    “Hotel name?”
    “El Cid.”
    “Who’s she with?”
    “Why do you assume she’s with someone?”
    “Mo-ther. Who’s she with?”
    “I think his name is Frank. No, here it is. She writes, ‘Sorry I left so fast. How is my baby bird? Having a wonderful time, water is warm and margaritas are cold. Should be home in a few weeks, since Fred’s due back in rehab. Love, Lil.’”
    I choked back a guffaw, barely managing to gasp goodbye between spasms of laughter. Sometimes it’s either laugh or cry.