Page 87 of The Lighthouse on Plum Island
The rocky steps leading to Beach Plum Cottage felt treacherous under Brad’s hurried steps. Caroline kept pace beside him as they followed Sandy, who had bolted up the path with an urgency only animals seemed to possess. Blue Beard’s frantic squawking added to the chaotic atmosphere.
Reaching the cottage, they found Sandy attempting to get inside, her paws scraping against the door. Blue Beard circled overhead, wings flapping, and announced, “Intruder on the other side!” His squawks echoed the tension building in the air.
Rushing to the front door, Brad and Caroline heard desperate banging and muffled cries from the other side. It was evident someone was trapped within. Blue Beard’s warning cries intensified.
“Intruder!” the Macaw continued, flapping off toward the rear of the cottage with Sandy hot on his tail.
The situation escalated as the person behind the door grew increasingly desperate. Brad and Caroline exchanged a worriedglance, unsure of their next move. Caroline made a swift decision.
“Go around the back in case there are two, as Blue Beard and Sandy seemed pretty excited,” Caroline instructed.
Responding to her directive, Brad hesitated momentarily, not wanting to leave Caroline. “I don’t want to leave you here alone.”
“Trust me, I yell really loud,” Caroline promised.
Brad nodded and hurried around the cottage, his heart pounding with a mix of adrenaline and uncertainty. As he rounded the corner, he saw a dark figure flash toward the stairs. Brad was about to follow the figure when he heard a whine. He frowned as he realized Blue Beard had gone quiet.
Brad turned and saw Sandy desperately trying to free her feathered friend from a nylon fishing net in which the beautiful bird was entangled. His heart dropped when she saw the blood-staining Blue Beards on the blue wing that was squashed awkwardly through the lethal net.
“Calm down, Sandy,” Brad drew in a steady breath as he neared the animals and went onto his knees beside Sandy. “There you go, girl.” He raised a hand and stroked her fur, gently pushing her aside.
Sandy barked but stayed lying as if giving him permission to help her friend. Brad hoped the moody macaw wouldn’t try to bite or claw him as he gently went to lift him, but he didn’t know how, as Blue Beard was panic-stricken.
Brad took off his cotton shirt that he had over a white t-shirt. He looked at Sandy.
“I’m going to put this over Blue Beard to stop him from struggling while I try to cut the net off him,” Brad explained to the German Shepherd, who watched him tilting her head from side to side and softly whining.
Brad held his breath, bracing himself for an attack from either the dog or the bird. Although his money was on the birdattacking him first. Brad gently covered Blue Beard with his shirt and wrapped it around the bird, carefully folding the wings against the body.
“Blue Beard, stay still, boy.” Brad’s deep voice took on a soothing tone. “There you go, boy,” he cooed.
While gently holding Blue Beard beneath his arm, Brad reached into his back pocket with his free hand and pulled out the Swiss Army knife his grandfather had given him when he was sixteen. Brad had brought it along on the trip to give it to Connor, who had been eyeing it out since he’d seen it in the display cabinet at the age of eight.
“Let’s hope one of these blades is still sharp enough to cut through nylon,” Brad said, and Sandy whined as if understanding him.
Brad lifted the side of his shirt where the damaged wing was, and keeping his hand as steady as possible, he cut around the feathers that were painfully jammed through the net. To his amazement, Blue Beard kept perfectly still while Sandy watched him with big, soulful eyes.
Cutting the bird free once he’d loosened the damaged wing didn’t take too long. He gently put Blue Beard on the ground and lifted his shirt off him. To Brad’s surprise, the bird jumped onto his lap and rubbed his head on Brad’s arm while Sandy sprung to her feet and covered his face in doggy kisses.
Brad examined Blue Beard’s wing when the bird tried to fly but couldn’t. “I’m no vet, but it might be broken, buddy.” Brad stood with his shirt wrapped around his arm and Blue Beard perched on top of it. “As soon as I’ve helped Caroline, we’ll take you to the vet.”
Blue Bird squawked and nuzzled Brad’s arm again while Sandy walked by his side. He returned to the front of the cottage as he saw Caroline talking on her phone. Her brow was creased worriedly.
Caroline had tried the door, but it was locked, and she was sure Brad had tried the back door. She also knew that Aunt Betty would’ve locked the window latches on all the windows before leaving town.
“And everyone calls me paranoid about security,” Caroline mumbled.
She held her breath as she stuck her hand in the knot of the creepy old plum tree that had given her and Jennifer nightmares as kids. It actually still gave Caroline nightmares. Her fingers finally touched the cool metal of what she hoped was the key, not some weird metal-feeling bug.
As Caroline pulled the key from the tree, her phone rang. It was Jennifer.
“Hello!” Caroline answered, dusting off the key.
“Where are you?” Jennifer’s voice sounded frantic.
“Beach Plum Cottage,” Caroline said, causing a drawn-out pause from the other end of the line.
“Why are you at my Aunt’s cottage?” Jennifer asked, but before Caroline could answer, Jennifer spoke again. “You can tell me later. This is more urgent.”
