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“Are you hurt?” John-Henry asked.
North made a face and shook his head. “Still have my fucking eyebrows, but I lost my favorite tee.”
“He has a million favorite shirts,” Shaw said. “This one was Lowell’s Landscaping. It was gray. They’re all gray.”
“The L’s looked like lawnmowers; it was fucking awesome. Sue me for thinking it was fucking awesome.”
“Imagine what I’ll be able to do after I finish Master Hermes’s advanced pyromantic and pyrokinetics course.”
North rolled his eyes. “Shaw put the fire out with the extinguisher I keep in the car, but she got away while we were, uh, busy.”
“This Heather woman,” Jem said, touching Tean’s arm. “That’s who we should focus on, right? I mean, she was obviously trying to get rid of something in Yesenia’s car. Do you know her? What’s she like? What’s her deal with Yesenia?”
Tean shook his head. “I’ve never met her before.”
“But that’s who we should focus on, don’t you think? John-Henry? Emery?”
“I’d certainly like to know what she was looking for in Yesenia’s car—” Emery began.
“The photos.” Tean sat up and checked his back pocket, where he’d shoved the envelope they’d found in Una’s car. Paper crinkled under his touch. “Una took them from Yesenia’s room.”
“What photos?” Auggie asked.
Theo’s silence practically vibrated, a low-frequency buzz to it, but Tean registered that at a distance. He hurried to the presenters’ table at the front of the room, shook the photos out of the envelope, and separated them, as best he could, using the envelope so that he wouldn’t have to touch the photos with his bare hands. The other men gathered around the table, although Theo hung back so far that Tean wasn’t sure if he could see anything.
“Animals?” Auggie said.
Shaw’s hand hovered over the macaw, not quite touching. “He’s beautiful.” Then he glanced at Jem. “He looks a little like your soul.”
“What are we looking at?” John-Henry asked.
“Is that a capuchin monkey?” Emery asked. “A crocodile, a tiger. Jesus Christ.”
“Why did Yesenia have these?” North asked.
Theo cleared his throat. “Why did Una have them?”
It took Tean a moment to realize they were all looking at him. “How should I know?”
“We don’t expect you to know,” Emery said. “We expect you to use your professional fucking judgment and give us a best guess.”
“That’s a lot of pressure—” Jem began.
“Let him answer,” John-Henry said quietly.
“I don’t know,” Tean said. He scanned the pictures again, and his eyes came to rest on the scarlet macaw again. The brilliant colors. The strong horizontal bands. An infinitesimal smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, because now that Shaw had said it, he could see Jem in the bird. Color-block t-shirts. Everything so bright and alive. Some of the fear and tension that had locked his brain since the encounter at Chickweed Farm dissolved, and his mind began to move again. “Many of these animals are highly sought after. Not all of them, but many of them are among the most trafficked animals in the world.”
“Ok.” John-Henry gave a confused laugh. “What are we talking about? A gang of animal smugglers?”
“People pay money for these things?” North said. “Go to a fucking zoo. You want an animal, I’ve got a dog you can have.”
“He’s mad because the puppy and I had a slumber party,” Shaw said.
“That’s what you’re calling it? A slumber party? You doped his cheese with Benadryl and wrapped him in a blanket so he couldn’t get away from you. I woke up at two in the morning with him scratching at the door because you ate some of the drugged cheese too and he needed to go out.”
Shaw raised his chin. “Friends don’t let friends do Benadryl alone.”
“Animal trafficking is frequently linked to terrorist organizations, human trafficking, arms dealing, and drug smuggling.” Emery rubbed his chin. “The Ozark Volunteers might be expanding.”
