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doing?”
    “Getting ready.”
    “For what?”
    Wyatt went into some hamstring stretches. “Remember the
speed whispering event? Dumbo?” Wyatt shuddered. “I still have nightmares about
that elephant’s trunk.”
    “Well, I’m pretty sure a couple with fighting lovebirds is
not going to require this much prep.”
    “You may be right,” Wyatt replied. “But I’d rather be safe
than sorry. Okay, let’s do this sucker!”
    * * *
    Walking up, Jazmine studied the architecture of the house.
Anything to avoid watching Wyatt attempt deep knee bends.
    The house was a salt box colonial, red brick with white
trim. The lawn was neatly kept, the edging razor sharp, the grass an emerald green.
A silver Mercedes station wagon was parked in the driveway. The entire place
screamed understated wealth and attention to detail, especially in the
renovations. While most of it appeared done, you could still see evidence of
paint drops clothes and discarded scaffolding.
    No wonder the birds were upset. Change like that, the noise
of repairs and workmen streaming in and out the house could challenge even a
lovebird’s affection.
    As they reached the front door, a loud screech sounded.
Wyatt turned to Jazmine. “See?”
    Jazmine rang the doorbell not wanted to egg Wyatt on. How
she ended up in this job still baffled her. To act as an assistant to a man
pretending to be a pet psychic? But that one hundred thousand dollars in
student loans needed to get paid.
    “It’s open!” a voice called out. “Come in!”
    From all the screeching maybe Wyatt was right. It did sound
a little like a combat zone. Her “boss” puffed out three quick breaths then
opened the door.
    “Hurry,” the voice called out, “Close the door before—”
    Jazmine slammed the door close just as a green and red bird
streaked up, screaming all the way. Its bright plumage a blur. It banked over
their heads then dove.
    Straight for Wyatt. He ducked, covering his head but somehow
the bird landed right in the middle where Wyatt couldn’t reach. He stood up
abruptly as Jazmine tried contained her laughter.
    “What?” he said, running his finger through his hair.
“What’s so funny?”
    She pointed to the bird on his head, but Wyatt just couldn’t
find the little thing as it settled down on the top of his head. Jazmine’s eyes
teared up from suppressing the laughter.
    “You’ve… You’ve got…”
    “Got what?” Wyatt exclaimed turning in a tight circle. “I’ve
got a what?”
    By now the lovebird was preening its feathers, right on top
of Wyatt’s head.
    “You’ve got a…”
    “A what?” Wyatt demanded.
    “I am so sorry,” their client, Mrs. Kaufman, said running
up. “I don’t know what’s gotten into—”
    Another huge screech and suddenly a second lovebird banked
around the corner, zeroing in on Wyatt.
    “Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Wyatt yelled trying to duck, but the
second lovebird came at him, talons out. “Um, hey! A little help here? Ow! What
the—”
    “Shoo!” Jazmine said waving at the two birds until they
finally flew off, fighting all the way.
    “I can’t possibly apologize enough,” Mrs. Kaufman said as
she extended her hand.
    “No, no you couldn’t,” her boss said, shaking his head,
sending green feathers everywhere.
    “I’m Ragan,” the client explained. “They have been going at
it for weeks. I can’t understand why.”
    Jazmine was about to reply when a male voice called out, “Ragan!
Have you seen the Goltz brief? I put it down on the mantle and now I can’t find
it.”
    Ragan’s lips fell into a hard frown as she yelled back. “I
put it in your desk, Dan. You know. Desk? The place where paperwork’s supposed
to be kept?” She grimaced at Jazmine, apparently looking for some feminine
solidarity. “But how about you come and meet the pet psychic and his
assistant?”
    “Yeah, yeah… I’ll be there in a minute,” the husband
responded. “I need to make a quick call.”
    “Quick call,” Ragan