“Ready to see what I brought you?” Elsa picked up her scrapbook and an issue ofBird-Loreand led the Petrovics outside to the courtyard.
She handed Danielle the magazine. “You already know so much about birds’ scientific names and their migration patterns and songs. This magazine will tell you even more about the birds’ personalities. What they do that makes them special.”
“Like the bowerbirds, whose favorite color is blue.”
“Exactly. I brought you an entire box of them to do with whatever you wish. You might simply read them, or you could cut them up and rearrange the illustrations or information any way you like.” She opened her scrapbook on her lap. “I made this when I was a child. It kept me entertained for hours and hours.”
“Oh, be careful, Danielle,” Tatiana warned as the child began handling the pages.
But Danielle took care to turn them slowly, and from the outside corner only. Though she was quiet as she looked, her expression held an intense curiosity that proved her interest.
“That was so kind of you to bring these things, dear,” Tatiana said. “Are you sure you want to part with an entire box of magazines?”
“I’m sure.”
“What do you say, Danielle?”
“Thank you.” She didn’t look up, still focused on the magazine.
“You’re very welcome. I’m delighted to share them with you.”
The French door opened, and Luke stepped outside, shutting it behind him. “I thought I heard voices. It’s good to see you both again.”
Tatiana practically cheered at the sight of him, then dug into her basket, handing him and Elsa each a jar of honey. “I’ve had some busy bees this season,” she explained.
The sound of shouting drew their attention toward the parlor.
“Where were you?” Jane asked her brother.
“Out. Same as you.”
“Out treasure-hunting, you mean. I thought we agreed to search the outbuildings together. But as soon as I turned around, you were gone.”
“Don’t be droll ...”
Elsa shook her head, wondering if they had gone so far as to search the Petrovics’ cottage for the aviary. “Have they bothered you yet, Tatiana?” She kept her voice low.
“No. Not those two. We did have an unexpected visitor this morning, but it wasn’t one of them.”
A muscle clenched in Luke’s jaw. “Was his name Archer?”
She shook her head. “He said his name was Hugh. He was keen to know where the aviary was. Thankfully, Danielle was out visiting the hummers when he stopped by.”
Was Archer now giving a false name to hide who he was? Elsa didn’t know what to think. “Whoever he was, he had no right and no business bothering you. Did he leave when you asked him to?”
“He did. But he saw the provenance for the aviary. I’d been looking at it this morning at the kitchen table, and it was still lying there when I opened the door and he pushed his way in. He spotted it right away and was convinced it was proof I musthave the aviary, too. I denied it, but I have a feeling we may not have seen the last of him.”
Oh no. The last thing Elsa had wanted to do was give anyone a reason to search Tatiana’s house. But she could immediately see how they’d want to do just that, now that they knew she had the provenance document.
“I’ll see what I can do about that,” Luke said. “In fact, I’d like to go to your cottage now, if that’s all right. I can deliver that box of magazines for you. If anyone else is there, I’ll chase him off.” He didn’t mention checking the structure’s integrity, but Elsa figured he didn’t want to raise any false hope about being able to move the cottage elsewhere.
Tatiana sent him with her blessing. “I should be getting back soon, too,” she added.
Piano music drifted out from the parlor, a sound much more welcome than the sibling spat of a few moments ago. “Can you spare another minute?” Elsa asked. “I just remembered something I wanted to show you, too.”
When she agreed to wait, Elsa slipped back inside the mansion and retrieved five framed watercolors Birdie had painted of some of her favorite, if common, birds. As she passed back through the parlor, she paused to show them to Jane and Wesley. It smelled like smoke in there again, but she saw no cigarettes or ashtrays. Maybe Wesley had continued sprinkling ash into the carpet. Maybe he enjoyed angering his father that way.
Surely there were other methods, but Elsa wasn’t there to give tips.
