She blinked.

“Okay,” she said, after a few seconds. “That sounds nice.”

She was turning to leave when a brightly colored bird suddenly flew down the stairs and began fluttering around the chandelier.

“What’s that?” Rose Noire asked.

“A Gouldian finch,” I said, trying to sound nonchalant. “Dad and Dr. Blake are keeping a few upstairs in one of the bedrooms.”

“Oh, dear,” she said. “Look what he’s doing to your rug.”

Yes, the Gouldian finch was doing what most birds do when stressed or excited. Assuming I figured out a way to survive whatever unpleasantness Sandie had planned, I’d worry about the rug tomorrow.

“Do you want me to help you catch him?” she asked.

“No, you go on home,” I said.

The finch tired of circling the lamp and flew into the kitchen.

“Birdie!” Timmy exclaimed from the kitchen.

“Stop!” Sandie yelled.

“Get out and get help!” I said, giving Rose Noire a shove out the door and slamming it behind her.

In the kitchen, Sandie shrieked, and then a shot rang out.

“Oh, my God,” I muttered and headed for the kitchen.

The finch flew out, leaving another white streak along the hallway floor, and I almost collided with Timmy.

“Run away!” I said, and ran to open the front door for him.

“Stop right there!” Sandie said.

Instead of running outside, Timmy continued up the stairs after the finch.

I followed Timmy.

When we reached the second floor hallway, we met a flock of Gouldian finches coming down from the third floor. To judge by the number of droppings they were producing, none of them were too happy about the situation.

“Birdie! Birdie!” Timmy called, and jumped up and down, trying to reach the brightly colored finches.

“Keep running,” I said.

Our arrival spooked the finches, and they wheeled and headed back up toward the third floor. Timmy gave chase and I followed.

“Stop!” Sandie called. She fired another random shot, and I heard breaking glass.

It occurred to me, halfway up the stairs to the third floor, that I should have stayed on the second. The second floor was more completely furnished, which meant I’d have had a better chance of finding something to use as a weapon. On the third floor, the only two rooms that contained anything were the bedroom at one end of the hall, where Rob had been stashing his stuff, and the bedroom at the other end, where I’d seen the cage of tropical birds.

When they reached the third floor, the finches swooped in a circle around the light fixture a couple of times and headed for the room they’d presumably come from. Timmy followed, thus narrowing down my choices.

The first thing I saw after bursting into the room was a cloud of brightly colored birds whirling in front of my eyes. Some were Gouldian finches, but there must have been several other species as well.

Then I spotted Michael, Dad, and Dr. Blake. They were all three trussed up, hand and foot. But apparently Sandie was less experienced in bondage than Freddy, and hadn’t thought to anchor them to anything. Michael was hopping from birdcage to birdcage, opening the cage doors with his teeth. Dr. Blake was hunched over by the window, trying to dial a cell phone with his nose. Dad was in one corner, and appeared to be attempting to stuff himself into the dumbwaiter, in preparation for a Houdini-like escape.