The bird had the courtesy to move to the trunk, but Bixby wasn’t taking any chances. He became invisible for the rest of the short walk.
“Do you really think it’s an omen?” Ren asked.
“Possibly. But we already know there’s trouble ahead. Could it get any worse?”
“It could,” the invisible dog said. “And it probably will. Quoth the raven.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
Before it got worse, it got better. There was nothing like a round of golf to lift one’s spirits.
“Golf? Seriously?” Bixby was unimpressed, especially when I dressed him in a jaunty tartan jacket for tee time at one that afternoon.
“I can’t believe you’re making me do this,” Ren said, during the drive. “There has to be a better way.”
We sat in the parking lot for a few minutes to psych up for the challenge. “Ren, this is the perfect way to chat to key players in the Main Street boys’ club. A round of golf is where all the deals go down. I learned that while dating golf pros at resorts. We’re going to kill three birdies with one stone.”
“No more golf puns unless they’re on your crossword puzzle,” Bixby said. He faked a cough and then added, “But here’s one: hack.”
“I’m not a hacker, but you are a genius. Because both ‘bird’ and ‘hack’ are on my crossword.”
“Gee, I wonder how I know that,” he said. “It’s almost as if I can read your mind. Oh, wait… I can.”
I laughed. “Keep up the good work, of course. Get it? Golf course.”
He pretended to faint on Ren’s best coat, shoving Bijou into the door and earning a smack from a fluffy apricot paw. Judging by his chuckle, it was worth it.
“Janny, in case you hadn’t noticed, it’s December,” Ren said. “Why is the golf course even open?”
“Because the members aren’t normal players. The greens can stay green year round. From what I hear, they only give up golf in the worst blizzards. It’s not that cold today. And so bright!”
Ren closed her eyes. “And we really had to dress like this?”
“Like pros? Sure, it only made sense.”
She laughed, albeit reluctantly. “Dressing like golf pros would make sense. A dress and heels make no sense on frosty grass.”
“It’s entirely impractical,” Mr. Bixby agreed. “And shameless. You’re trying to use your womanly wiles on savvy businessmen.”
“You bet I am. We’re no closer to figuring out why Minerva is so worried about the mayor. Or to rescuing Skye from the library. The only mystery we’ve solved is my hiccup problem.”
Ren brightened. “That’s something. I suppose this is a good opportunity to test your recovery. Encounters with Oscar make you jittery.”
“Very much so. And he’s here. I feel the snakes coiling right below where a hiccup would be.” I thought about it for a moment. “You know, I wouldn’t have dared to try this without Dr. Featherburn’s cure. Oscar knows about the sunflowers and if they started popping up on the greens, he’d be suspicious.”
“The heels won’t make him suspicious?” Bixby asked.
“He’ll just think we’re idiots and that’s no bad thing.” I opened my door. “Let’s do this.”
Renata, Bijou and Bixby trailed after me into the clubhouse and the dogs reluctantly got into lightweight carriers. I was satisfied with my plan but couldn’t risk the dogs getting pegged off by golf balls. Particularly by men who might do it on purpose.
We headed out to the first tee with our rented clubs on wheeled push carts. Three men had already finished and were heading for three motorized carts. Either they didn’t like to share, or each wanted a quick getaway.
Oscar Knight turned, as if sensing me. I didn’t get the jump on him often, but I’d pulled it off today. In fact, he looked dumbfounded. “Miss Brighton?”
I put Bixby’s bag down and waved. “Hi, Mr. Knight. Great to see you. I finally got a free afternoon to give Renata a lesson.”
His eyes scanned me in disbelief. “You play golf?”
“Sure, a little. I worked at high-end resorts, remember? Free golf, free lessons. Hospitality had its perks.”
The other men left their carts and came to flank Oscar. “You know these fools?” one asked. He was Blaine Parkin’s uncle. I recognized him from the unpleasant images I’d gleaned by accident from the newlywed.
“He does,” I said, with my sunniest smile. “This fool is Oscar’s former tenant and a good friend of his wife.”
Both men stared at Oscar, who nodded sullenly. “Tavi likes her for some reason.”
“And she doesn’t even know about my prowess on the links. Maybe she’ll join me one day.”
Oscar looked down at the pet carriers. “You know dogs aren’t permitted on the course. Any course. Anywhere.”
“They’re allowed through the winter. I checked the rules.”
“Come on, Oscar,” Mr. Parkin said. “These ladies won’t last one hole in those shoes. But they’ll leave a good few in our greens.”
Oscar rubbed his head. His silver hair was covered in a toque and his lightweight parka had seen better days. Instead of the dashing Main Street mogul he was, he looked like someone’s granddad. It helped to quell the snakes inside. “I wouldn’t count them out, Robert. Janelle has surprised me before.”
“And me.” Arnold Blatchford, the eldest and most portly of the trio, spoke last. “These dogs reportedly saved my life at a restaurant opening last month. I wasn’t conscious at the time to confirm it.”
