“Parish project,” I blurted. “Um, repopulating local habitats.”
“I wasn’t aware local frogs were on the decline,” she said, accent smooth and midwestern. She tilted her head, amusement dancing in her eyes.
I scrambled to come up with my next line, but there was something disarming about this woman. “You know I’m lying through my teeth.”
She laughed. “You have a passel of Rana pipiens—all the same size, so probably raised in captivity—in a bucket stenciled TPCC, not St. Edwards Parish.”
“Oh. Crap.” I squinted at the frogs then at her. “Wait. You know what species of frog they are?”
“Only because it’s the most common one used in labs.” She chuckled. “And I have a PhD in conservation biology with a specialty in riparian environments.”
“Well, I could not be any more busted,” I said ruefully. “Our jerk of a professor wanted us to pith these guys.” I made a face. “It just didn’t seem right to let them be killed by a bunch of students who don’t give a rat’s ass about learning. And what does ‘riparian’ mean?”
“The area between land and a river, stream, or bayou,” she said without the slightest hint of condescension. “The banks, to put it simply.” Her smile warmed. “In other words, I completely support your rescue of these frogs. Besides, with all the new video tech, there’s no need for undergrads to work on live animals. Some states don’t allow it.” She grabbed the bucket handle with me. “We’d better be quick before someone from the homeowners association comes through. They’d raise a ruckus over your little relocation project.”
Together, we lugged the bucket to the edge and scooped frogs into the water. They swam quickly away, leaving only ripples behind. “Buh-bye, froggies.” I gave them a cheery wave, stupidly pleased at the success of my scheme. I had no delusions about what would happen to them now. Some would end up as dinner for various wildlife. Others might meet their maker beneath a car tire, or get sick and die from some dread froggy disease.
As if reading my thoughts, the woman said, “Old Blue will likely spot some of them.” She nodded toward the far end of the pond where a stately heron stood motionless among the reeds.
I shrugged. “That sort of thing would happen wherever I took them. My hope is for a few to survive and go on to make happy froggy families. Either way, they’re better off than if I’d left them in that storage room.”
“No argument from me!”
“I’m Angel Crawford.” Now that we were partners in crime, it couldn’t hurt to give her my name. “Thanks for the help.”
“Portia Antilles, and this is Moose.” She nodded toward the dog.
“Nice to meet you both.” I emptied the last of the water from the bucket. “You’re a biologist? That’s so cool.”
“I enjoyed my work tremendously,” she said. “I retired last fall.”
I didn’t think she looked old enough to retire, but then again I wasn’t the best judge of age. Besides, maybe she had a good retirement account. “Nice place to retire.”
“Yes, it is.” Portia’s gaze traveled over the pond before returning to me. “So tell me, do you often pilfer amphibians?”
I laughed. “No more than the average biology student, but who knows what the future holds?”
“Good to leave your options open.” She nodded in approval. “How long have you been taking classes at TPCC?”
“This is my first semester,” I said then winced. “I’m only taking two classes, though. I work full time as a morgue tech at the Coroner’s Office.”
“You must find that absolutely fascinating,” she said, watching me with interest.
“I do,” I said, pleased she understood. “It’s really awesome.”
“I’m very glad to hear it. And don’t fret about your course load. I didn’t start college until I was twenty-five.”
“Well, I dropped out of high school when I was fifteen and just got my GED last year.”
Portia cocked her head. “Yet here you are.”
I grinned. “Yeah. Here I am. An accomplished frog thief.”
She laughed then dropped her eyes to Moose as he leaned against her leg. “My assistant here is reminding me I need to get home. It was very nice to meet you, Angel. I do hope our paths cross again someday.”
“It was nice to meet you, too,” I said. “And ditto.”
Portia gave me a parting smile then headed back the way she came, Moose trotting happily at her side.