Free Written in Red by Anne Bishop

we’re going to spend the day dealing with fender benders and cars that spun out and are stuck.”
    “Is that what we’re checking out?” Monty asked, opening the small notebook he carried everywhere.
    “Hope so.”
    An odd answer, since their first call was to check out a car abandoned on Parkside Avenue.
    Monty checked the notes he’d made. “A plow spotted the car late last night but it wasn’t reported to us until this morning? Why the delay?”
    “Car could have slid off the road and gotten stuck,” Kowalski replied. “Owner could have called a friend and gotten a ride home, intending to deal with the car in the morning. Or he could have called a towing service and found shelter somewhere, since every towing business would have lists of calls in weather like this, and it could have taken the truck hours to get to the owner of this car.”
    “But the car is still there.”
    “Yes, sir. The car is still there, so now it’s time for us to take a look.” Kowalski pulled up behind the abandoned car and turned on the patrol car’s flashing lights. He looked toward the bushes that provided a privacy screen behind a long stretch of fence. “Ah, sh— Sorry, Lieutenant.”
    Monty looked at what might have been a trail from the car to the fence. “What is it?”
    “Nothing good,” Kowalski replied grimly as he got out of the patrol car.
    Monty got out, testing the ground beneath the snow to make sure he wasn’t going to tumble into a ditch. Reassured, he plowed through the snow next to the indentation that might have been another person’s footprints.
    Caw caw
    He glanced to his right at the handful of birds perched in the nearby trees.
    The chest-high fence didn’t have those decorative spikes to deter someone from scrambling over. The bushes wouldn’t be much of a wall, especially if someone hopped the fence to look for help. Noticing the broken tops of two bushes, Monty reached over the fence and parted them.
    Caw caw
    “Oh, gods, there’s a lot of blood,” Monty said, catching sight of the trampled snow beyond the bushes. “Give me a boost. Someone’s hurt and needs help.”
    “Lieutenant.”
Kowalski grabbed Monty’s arm and hauled him back a couple of steps before saying in a low voice, “That’s the Courtyard. Believe me, there is no one wounded on the other side of that fence.”
    Hearing fear beneath the conviction in Kowalski’s voice, Monty looked around. The handful of Crows had swelled to over a dozen, and more were flying toward them. A Hawk perched on top of the streetlight and another soared overhead. And all of them were watching him and Kowalski.
    Then Monty heard the howling.
    “We need to go back to the car now,” Kowalski said.
    Nodding, Monty led the way back to the car. As soon as they were inside, Kowalski locked the doors and started the engine, turning the heater up all the way.
    “I thought the barrier between humans and Others would be more . . . substantial,” Monty said, shaken. “That’s really the Courtyard?”
    “That’s it,” Kowalski said, studying Monty. “You didn’t work near the Courtyard in Toland?”
    Monty shook his head. “Never got near it.” He noticed that Kowalski’s hands hadn’t stopped shaking. “You sure there’s nobody hurt on the other side of that fence?”
    “I’m sure.” Kowalski tipped his head to indicate the open land on the other side of the four-lane avenue. “Once the tow truck arrives, we can check the cairn to find out who went over the fence.”
    “I don’t understand.”
    “Every Courtyard has its own policy when it comes to dealing with humans. The Wolfgard have been running this one for the past few years, and their rules are clear. Kids who hop the fence to look around on a dare get tossed back over the fence and sat on until we pick them up and arrest them for trespassing. Teenagers will get roughed up, maybe get a bad bite or a broken bone before they’re tossed back over the fence. But any adult who