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“I’m going to bring Jerry home tomorrow.”

“You’re a nice person, Trisha.”

“Yeah, well, a lot of good that does me. I’ll call you if I remember anything.”

“Thanks.”

We ended the call. I thought about letting Calloway know what Trisha had said, but there wasn’t much to it. I needed that new camera, but the post office was closed by now.

A familiar rustle pulled my attention back to the tree.

I smiled uncontrollably and lifted the bottle in salute. “Well, there you are. Where have you been?”

I was always surprised not to hear a whop-whop of wings or any sort of warning noises. Jack simply glided in and landed, his long talons gripping the soft wood easily and with immediate balance. The shimmy of the leaves was all I ever heard to announce his arrival. His orange eyes, in the moonlight, sparkled.

“What, no dinner?” I noticed his empty beak.

He blinked.

For a long few moments, we did what we always did. We looked at each other. I knew our conversations were things of my imagination, but sometimes all a person needed was a silent response punctuated with wise eyes, even if words weren’t exchanged.

He looked well. I now had complete confirmation that he hadn’t been hurt, and I was happy about that.

They were wicked creatures, owls. The top of food chains, they were extraordinarily good at catching their prey. Both of us were creatures of the night, but owls came by it honestly. I had grown up in the heat, around people who spent many months of the year waiting for it to cool off enough to go outside. Those cooler times were usually in the dark.

The weather didn’t alter my love for where I lived, but I knew not everyone spent so much time under the stars simply because they wanted to be outside after a hot day had kept them in.

I thought back to when Jack and I first met. It had been seven or so years ago when I’d gone out to the courtyard, spotting something out of the corner of my eye. I’d gasped and jumped but became quickly intrigued when I could see the owl.

“Hey,” I’d said.

He’d looked at me.

“I don’t have anything for you, but you sure are pretty.”

I’d watched as he watched me. The visits became frequent and more filled with me speaking as he continued to strike a sage pose while he listened. He probably thought I was brilliant.

“Well, I’m glad you’re okay,” I said tonight.

Before I could say anything else, the owl took off.

It had been a literal and quick flyby.

Was this a turning point? Was he going to visit with less frequency? What had been the catalyst? Was there a family out there in a nest in a cactus? Did he have other commitments?

I smirked at myself, wondering why I was attempting to figure out the actions of a wild animal that didn’t owe me anything.

My phone buzzed with a text from Sonny.

“Things are wrapped up. Your invitation to come by still good?”

“Absolutely.”

I lifted myself off the chaise, thinking I’d check the fridge for potential snacks. As I reached the sliding glass doors, I turned to look back at the tree one more time.

Jack wasn’t there, but a flash of movement at the top of the wall caught my attention. Had the owl moved to the wall, or was I seeing something else?

I hesitated. Normally, I would take a closer look, but something froze me in place. I didn’t know if what I’d seen had scared me or if I was just anxious to get ready for Sonny.