Free Sacrifice of Buntings by Christine Goff

display, and Dorothy grabbed her arm.
    “You can get coffee at the convention center.”
    “Not good coffee.” Rachel glanced at her watch and stood her ground. “We have time.”
    Dorothy looked down at her feet, and Rachel’s morning fog lifted.
    “I get it,” she said. “You want to catch Guy Saxby before classes begin.”
    Dorothy snapped her head up. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
    “Admit it. You have a crush on him.”
    “I’m sixty-five. I am too old to have a crush on anyone, especially someone ten years my junior.”
    “You can’t fool me. Admit it. He is sort of sexy.”
    “Rachel!” Dorothy tried acting shocked, then broke down and giggled. “Okay, I’ll admit, he makes me think of 007.” Growing serious, her eyes darted toward the dining room entrance. “Now, if it’s okay with you, I’d like to get over there before Lark and Cecilia catch on.”
    That made sense. “But we only have one car.”
    “I left a note for Ceese saying we took a cab.”
    Am I an accomplice or a dupe, Rachel wondered. Either way, she abandoned the idea of coffee and followed Dorothy outside. A wave to the protestors and a three-dollar cab ride landed them in front of the convention center five minutes later, with twenty minutes to spare.
    With no field trips scheduled, the place pulsed with life. Birders mingled in the entryway, coffee cups in hand, and Rachel felt jealous.
    “Did you make plans to meet somewhere?” she asked, figuring that if Dorothy hadn’t, there was no way she would find him in this crowd.
    “We’re meeting up by the Leica display.”
    The two of them pushed their way across the lobby to the vendors’ area, where they were promptly stopped by a beefy security guard.
    “No one’s allowed into the Nest until eleven o’clock,” he drawled. Laying on the Southern charm, he flashed a bright white smile and cocked his head.
    “But I’m supposed to meet someone inside.”
    “No one’s allowed,” he repeated, crossing his arms and using his elbow-to-elbow girth to block the doorway.
    “Thanks,” Rachel said, pulling Dorothy aside.
    Dorothy started to protest.
    Rachel reasoned with her. “If we can’t get in, he can’t either. He did say nobody gets in.”
    “But the vendors can,” Dorothy said. “And I’ll bet the presenters can too.”
    Rachel pondered, weighing the risks, and then said, “I know another way.”
    “How?”
    “Follow me and try to act natural.” She guessed she had now assumed the mantle of accomplice. Flashing the security guard a smile, she led Dorothy past another set of locked double doors to a hallway on the right. “The public bathrooms are down this way, and there’s another entrance to the vendors’ area,” she said in a hushed voice. “That entrance can’t be locked off. Let’s hope it’s not guarded.”
    The entrance to the bathroom was halfway down the hall. Rachel glanced around to make sure no one had followed them, then scurried past the door to the ladies’ room. At the end of the hallway, a moveable wall blocked the entry to the vendor’s area.
    “Keep your eyes open,” Rachel said, leaning her shoulder into the wall. It moved slightly but took a second shove before sliding back far enough for Rachel to slip through. “The coast is clear,” she whispered.
    Dorothy slipped through behind her. “Push it back into place,” she whispered back, excitement tingeing her voice. “In case someone comes. I wonder if Guy was able to get in.”
    “Do you want me to wait here?” Rachel asked.
    “No,” Dorothy said, gripping her arm. “I want you to come with me.”
    The room was large, with no lights on and only a panel of windows along the back wall. In the twilight the cloth-draped displays looked like ghosts grouped for a photo shot. The two of them circled the lunch area and headed toward the far wall. To the best of Rachel’s recollection, the Leica booth was near the windows, across from Beau and Reggie’s