Join me every day at Noon EST for the continuing adventures of the bungling detective, N. Owl, in her quest to bring the mastermind, ~M, to justice!  If you’ve  missed any episodes, you can find them HERE!

Little did we know that ~M had another place she kept her secrets hidden. A place she called “Her Writing Haven”. THIS is where she would strategically pen her poems, which I was pretty sure were really secrets messages to her army. I decided to take the crew out one night, past ~M’s place, to see if we could figure out where this other lair was. As we got closer to the place I first saw her with her feet in that God awful dirt, I noticed something rather odd laying on the ground. I picked it up and examined it. It appeared to be a feather from a bird. Not one you’d normally see around here, though.

I asked Cory if he knew what kind of bird this came from. Upon closer inspection, he triumphantly shouted, “It’s the plume of a pigeon!” at which point we all smacked him for shouting so loud. There was movement in the bushes. I thought we had been made for sure, but as I pulled everyone back behind an old oak tree, we saw what was making the noise. It was a pigeon. Poor dear, it had lost half its feathers. Or had it. I looked at the feather I had picked up and realized it had something dark on the tip of it. INK! This was ~M’s plume, the one, or one of the one’s she used to pen those crazy word lists of hers.

We must be close to her haven or this bird would not be here. I looked up, and in the window of the house, next to the one where she had been sitting with her feet in the dirt, was ~M! I could see she was busy writing away, another plume in her hand. That dastardly woman! How could she do that to a poor pigeon? Maybe he pooped on her and she got mad. Revenge? Anyway, didn’t matter. We had found her.

I motioned to the others, signaling this was our chance to head over to the other house and snoop around for clues. One of us needed to remain behind to be sure ~M didn’t go anywhere. After arguing for several minutes, I booted them all, and made Fred stay behind. Geez, nothing’s ever easy.

Tiptoeing away from the house, hiding in the shadows, we made our way over. The front door was locked. So we headed around to the back. There was a deck, and of course, the back door was locked, too. Guess you can’t be too safe in this neighborhood. We needed another plan to enter the house undetected. No amount of gas was going to work here. We had to try something else.

 

Stay tuned for more from this crime solving wordsmith…

 

July Writing Prompt – Plumes of a pigeon – Day 6/31

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