For an instant, dread flowed through Naomi as if in her bloodstream and something was cutting off her breath. Then, as the hands over mouth and throat withdrew, she saw they were Ted's. She let him drag her into the cabin and close the broken door.
"Better not scare Richard," he said quietly, shoving her gently into a chair. "He might fall."
Dumbly she caught her breath, waiting for the bawling out she'd earned.
But Ted said, "Richard keeps us safe. So long as we fear for him, and not ourselves—"
That was easy to do. Outside, she heard a piping call: "Look at me now, Mommie!"
"Showing off!" she gasped. In a flashing vision, Richard was half boy, half vulture, flapping to the ground with a broken wing.
"Here," said Ted, picking up a notebook that had been on the table. "Here's Cappy's present. A homemade picture book. Bait."
"Let me use it!" she said. "Richard may have seen I was scared just now."
Outside again, under the tree, she called, "Here's Cappy's present, Richard. He's gone away and left it for you."
Would he notice how her voice had gone up half an octave, become flat and shrill?