The Unkindness of Ravens by M. Hilliard (fastest ebook reader txt) 📕

Who was she trying to convince? I shook my head.

“Well, are you all right?” she asked.

“No permanent damage, just some bumps and bruises,” I said. My clothes were another story. My carefully preserved designer basics were ruined. Not as important as me being in one piece, but still. Another thing the killer had to answer for.

“I’m glad, very glad to hear that.”

She fidgeted some more. Once again, she seemed on the verge of asking me something. I waited.

“Do you think,” she said, “that maybe someone was just trying to scare you? Because of Joanna?”

“You mean because of what I know about her death? Or what she was looking into right before it?”

“Yes,” she said, and leaned closer and whispered, “do you know? Do you know anything she found out?”

“I’ve found some notes, and some articles.” Then I leaned toward her. We were nose to nose across the table.

“You’ve lived here all your life, Felicity. What can you tell me about Carol Douglas?”

Felicity grew even more pale.

“That poor little girl. It was so awful. He never talks about it. If it weren’t for Vince—”

She broke off.

“Vince never talks about it?” I prompted.

“No, Matthew. Carol was his sister, well, half-sister, you know. No, how would you know? He found her there, in the water. The two of them did, Vince and Matthew. Playing in the woods. Such a beautiful, sunny day. But the water in the kill was high, and so cold.”

She rubbed her arms, staring past me.

“Her poor mother. She never got over it. It’s too awful even to think about. If only I could be sure.”

She paused again. Sure of what?

“Joanna knew this whole story?”

Felicity snapped back to the present.

“Not all of it, I don’t think. I don’t think that’s what got her killed. No.”

“Then what did, Felicity?”

“I don’t know,” she said, now sounding more frustrated than frightened. “I can’t be sure of anything. Listen, Greer, you need to be careful. Do the police know all of this?”

“I’ve given them everything I’ve found.”

“Good. Let them deal with it.”

“Oh, I am, believe me,” I said. I didn’t think Felicity was the killer, but she was wound tight about something, so putting it about that I was well out of things was to my advantage.

“Good,” she said again, adding, “maybe you should take some time off. Get away for a bit. I’m taking the kids to the lake house tomorrow. My sister’s there now. We’re opening it early in case it needs any repairs from all the snow. Why don’t you join us?”

A cabin deep in the woods at a lakeside Adirondack retreat that would still be deserted this early in the season? This was the stuff of which horror movies were made. Whether or not Felicity was a murder suspect, I thought not.

“I’m afraid I can’t get away from work on such short notice. We’ve been so busy. But it’s kind of you to offer.”

“Oh, I see,” she said. She scribbled something on a napkin and pushed it across the table.

“Here’s my cell if you change your mind. Or if something new comes up. You’ll call me, won’t you?”

She sounded anxious again.

“Of course.”

She looked around the room, and with one more “Be careful, Greer,” she was gone.

I was mulling over my conversation with Felicity when Meadow appeared. She’d heard about the events of the previous evening.

“How’re you holding up?” she said, taking Felicity’s place across the table.

I filled her in on my bruises, aches, ruined outfit, and general frustration. When I wound down, she waved Jack over.

“I think we have some new information, for what it’s worth,” she said.

As Jack arrived with the coffeepot, Meadow told me she’d seen a “whole flock of headless ghosts” running down Main Street the day before. She’d done a double take and gone to the window for a closer look. It was the high school track team, caught out in the rain when the storm hit.

“They had their hoods pulled up and were hunched over against the wind and rain,” she said, “and the ones without hoods had pulled up their sweatshirts, so the neck was over their heads. Those are the ones that really looked kind of headless. The rest looked more like hunchbacks.”

I looked at Jack, who had pulled up a chair.

“Did you see them?” I asked.

“Meadow called me over and I got a quick look. Could be. The outlines seemed a little off, but what I saw before was across the street at night. Looked bigger and shadowy. But that could be a trick of the light.”

“Or it was an adult in something less colorful than the track team sweats. The kids don’t usually run by here?”

“No.” Meadow shook her head. “I think it was the storm. They were taking the shortest route back to the school.”

“Well, it’s something,” I said, “and I can tell Officer Webber. But the police will probably want to speak to you.”

Jack nodded.

“I’ll call Sam and tell him to drop around for some coffee,” he said. “It’s been a while.”

He took the coffee pot and headed back to the counter. Meadow saw my expression and laughed.

“Sam O’Donnell was not always the Eagle Scout he appears to be,” she said. “Few people are. Sam and Jack have been friends since we moved here. Now, do you want a little something for later? I see your car’s still in the shop.”

I placed an order. Meadow’s Eagle Scout comment had caused a little ping in my brain, but I couldn’t tell why. Jennie Webber showed up right on time to get me to the library for my reference shift. We exchanged information on the way. As expected, the files she wanted were in an off-site storage facility, and would take some time to retrieve. She hoped to have them the next day.

“But I’m going to try to catch Felicity before she leaves town,” Jennie said, “and I’ll drop by on Vince and Matthew Prentiss. They’re the closest we’ve got to eyewitnesses to the Douglas