Page 45 of Half Dead

“They sure put the eerie in iridescent,” I commented.

“Seems like the scarecrow isn’t doing his job,” Ray said. “We might want to move him.”

“Buddy can stay where he is. The crows are here for a reason.”

“What do they want?” Ray asked.

“Not sure yet. Maybe they know who killed Birdie.” I had, after all, instructed them to find the killer. Crows were clever enough to manage it, especially this crew.

“Wait, Birdie’s dead?”

“Last night. Someone strangled her and then tried to cover it up by setting fire to her house.”

Ray eyed the yard with a nervous twitch. “The crows wouldn’t bring a corpse with them, would they?”

“I don’t think they’d kill anyone. Collectively, they’re a murder, not a murderer.” I hopped off the porch and walked to the bridge. “Hello, feathered friends. I’m glad to see you again.”

The birds cawed in response; there was a melancholy quality to the sound that tugged at my heartstrings. Each caw seemed to carry the weight of sorrow.

“I bet you miss Birdie. So do I.”

Ray joined me at the foot of the bridge. “They don’t seem angry, just sad.”

“I think that’s why they’re here.”

“To mourn?”

“And because they’re looking for someone to validate their grief.” According to Birdie, crows were highly intelligent. They remembered human faces—which people treated them well, and which people didn’t. Their presence here suggested I was in the former category.

“Do me a favor, Ray. Go inside and get the bag of pumpkin seeds from the cabinet.” I would’ve gone for the popcorn, except the microwave was currently out of commission.

Ray disappeared without a word. The crows remained rooted to their posts, their beady eyes all fixed on me.

“I’m sorry about what happened to Birdie. She was an exceptional woman. She deserved a better death.”

They ruffled their wings in response.

Ray returned with the bag of seeds. I sprinkled them across the lawn until the bag was empty. I was glad I’d bought the family size. “I wish I had better food to offer you, but at least the seeds are organic.”

The crows flocked to the yard to devour the seeds. They’d probably relied on Birdie for many of their meals. I wondered whether they viewed me as her replacement.

“They seem hungry,” Ray remarked.

“Grief either empties you to the point where you’re ravenous or fills you to the point where you can’t eat.”

“Guess it emptied them.”

My stomach rumbled. “Makes me hungry.”

“The buzz of a bee makes you hungry.”

“All the more reason to see Otto.” As long as my kitchen was off limits, I might as well take advantage of my friend with a superior kitchen—and a chef to boot.

I waited until the crows took to the air to retrieve my keys from the house. I opted for the motorcycle today. I didn’t want to be trapped inside the cab of the truck. I needed freedom, to feel the wind on my face, like my new feathered friends.

As I walked to the outbuilding that housed the motorcycle, I called to check on Kane. No answer. Next, I tried Dantalion. No response there either. My heart hammered in my chest as I hit Josie’s name on the screen. Technically it read “PITA,” but I knew who I meant.

“He isn’t ignoring you,” Josie said, by way of a greeting. “His phone is off.”

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