A Sputterling Christmas. Part Three

And now to Part Three of Christmas with the Sputterlings! 

If you missed Part One, it’s here!

Part Two is here!

Those of you who know me, know I don’t get upset.

Except—I was upset. “I have no idea, Officer . . .” I leaned closer and looked at his name tag, “. . . Saggot. She was here one minute and gone the next!”

He stared at me.

Behind him, Reggie was doing the same thing.

For a moment their resemblance was remarkable.

In another life, I would have pointed it out.

Officer Saggot was the first to blink. “And you have no idea where she went?”

“No, Officer, as I already told you.”

“And she didn’t go out the front door?”

I sighed. “She was pulling a giant, heavy case behind her. In the time between when she left me and I followed her, there is no way she could, physically—”

“Just how heavy was this case?”

My thoughts scattered. I caught Reggie’s eye and deliberately lowered both lids for a moment. “Umm . . . “I don’t know. She struggled bringing it down the stairs so I assumed—”

“A-ha!” he said as though he’d caught me in something. “So she was on the stairs!”

I frowned. “I already told you that. She brought the case down here. Pulled it into the front room where Reggie and I were sitting. Talked to me. Then pulled it back into the hall and disappeared.”

“Reggie?” The man looked around. “Who is Reggie?!”

“The bird behind you.”

He spun around, almost dropping his notebook. “Oh. Erm . . . Hello, Reggie.”

“You never let me have any fun!” Reggie said. He began to preen his left wing.

Now we were both looking at him. He had sound remarkably like Norma.

“Yooouuu nnnneevvverrrr lllleeet mmmeee have anyyyy funnnnn!” The bird rolled the words about in his great beak like he was tasting something yummy. “Yooouuu . . . yooouuuu . . .”

“That seems an odd thing for a parrot to say,” Officer Saggot said.

“He’s a macaw,” I told him, rather absently. “Norma got him from some retired Yale professor.”

“Who taught him to say that?”

“Well, my sister, I guess.”

He frowned and looked at me. “Is this something she said often?”

I felt my face grow warm. “Well . . . no . . . that is . . . I think she said that just before she disappeared.”

“Uh-huh.” The officer scribbled in his little book.

“My life isn’t my own!” Reggie obviously wasn’t through causing problems. “My life isn’t—”

Now the officer was staring at me. “I suppose your sister taught him that, too.”

“Well . . . yes. I guess so. That was another thing she said—”

“Just before she disappeared.”

I frowned at him. “I don’t know if I like your tone.”

He shrugged. “What you like or don’t like is immaterial. What matters now is . . .”

Someone knocked.

I moved past him into the hall but felt him come up behind me as I opened the front door and looked out onto an empty stoop. “Huh. No one here.”

The knocking came again. This time from somewhere behind us.

We both turned.

Another knock. I tipped my head, trying to decide where the noise was coming from.

The officer pointed with his pencil. “I think it’s coming from the living room.”

I made a face as I walked back into the room we had left only moments before. “It couldn’t have come from here—” I began.

Bang!

I jumped and, I’m not sure, but I think the officer screamed a little.

And yes, it was a girly scream. Probably an occupational hazard.

“Is this thing on?” It sounded like Norma’s voice. I looked at Reggie. He was in lethal weapon mode, puffed up to approximately three times his usual size.

Not a good sign.

“Testing. Testing. Can you hear me?”

I looked around, trying to find a possible source for the voice, finally going to the kitchen door to peer inside. Nothing.

“Hello? Hellloooo!”

I was once again standing in the middle of the living room. I cleared my throat and looked up toward the ceiling. “N-Norma?”

“Oh it does work! They said it would!” The voice sounded cheerful. Happy.

I frowned. “What works?” I looked at the officer, who was standing in the doorway, the picture of confusion. 

“Who are you talking to?” he mouthed the words.

“Norma!” I mouthed back, pointing upward.

“Right.” He snapped his notebook shut and stuck his pencil behind his ear. Between you and me, I didn’t realize people still did that. “I don’t know who you think you’re kidding, ma’am,” he said, his mouth twisting into an ugly line. “But there are charges for people who play tricks and waste officers’ time.” He turned and disappeared into the hall.

I started after him. “Honest, Officer Saggot, I know as much about this as you!”

He was already at the door. “I’ll be back,” he said, putting one hand on the doorknob. “To give you and that fraudster sister of yours the dressing down you deserve. One or both of you is going to end up in custody!”

Eep.