“Think about it,” Caleb said. “We were in and out of the New Life Church pretty quick, and the snake didn’t even take ten minutes. But somebody had to load all those hundreds of ducks and bring them over there in a truck or something and carry them all into St. Byblig’s. That took a lot more time. Which means a lot bigger chance of being seen or leaving evidence.”

“Are you suggesting that if they catch whoever did the ducks, we should let them take the blame for the rest?”

A sigh.

“I guess not,” Caleb said. “That would be pretty slimy. Though if you ask me, it was slimy of them to do the ducks. Everyone was kind of calming down and then the whole thing with the ducks stirred them up again.”

“What makes you think they were calming down?”

A pause. A long pause.

“Well, I think they would have if the pranks had stopped,” Caleb said finally.

“Yeah, right.” Ronnie sounded unconvinced. “Look, no matter what Bigfoot gets up to, we just sit tight. Agreed?”

“Agreed.”

Soft departing footsteps signaled that my eavesdropping was over. I decided to wait for a little bit before emerging. And as soon as the coast was clear, I should call the chief and report what I’d heard. Everything I’d heard—he still hadn’t returned my call from yesterday.

And was Rose Noire right about Lightfoot having something to do with the pranks—at least the latest one? And should I relay her suspicions to the chief? I knew he shared my skepticism about premonitions, but did he also share my trust in Rose Noire’s subconscious?

As I was crouching there, trying to decide how soon to take out my cell phone, it rang. Michael. I hurried to answer it before it alarmed the departing pranksters.

“Josh has been begging to come to tonight’s concert,” he said. “I told him I’d ask Mommy if it was okay.”

“I have no idea how crowded it will be,” I said. “But if nothing else, we can listen from here in my temporary office. You said Josh has been begging—does Jamie have an opinion?”

“He has no objection. He wants to see the snake again. He’s asked about it several times.”

“Let’s hope he’s disappointed. Want to meet for dinner someplace before the concert?”

“How about Luigi’s?”

“My very thought. I’ll head out in five minutes.”

Before leaving my now completely dark little office, I called Chief Burke’s cell phone. Which went to voice mail. Not knowing who might be around when he played it back, I made my message noncommittal.

“Hi,” I said. “It’s Meg Langslow. I really need to talk to you. I’ve overheard several things that I’m pretty sure are relevant to the question of who’s pulling off these pranks. Would be happy to fill you in at your convenience.”