it?â
The two laughed and hugged. Finally, Angie thought, someone to share the enthusiasm she had when she first arrived.
âI brought you a gift,â Bianca said. âA gold goblet for the dining room. Iâm sure you can figure out a way to use it on the table or buffet. Itâd be such fun to see it when the Christmas show airs!â
Angie took the heavy goblet. It had been in the family for years. âI can try, but donât get your hopes up.â
âLook at all the flowers!â Bianca nearly tripped over cables as she hurried into the living room and stuck her nose into a display on the coffee table. âPhew! Theyâre fake! Too bad, they look so real. Letâs see the rest of the house.â
Angie walked her through the main floor.
âWhere are the actors?â Bianca asked. âCan I meet them? I adore Adrian! Heâs so suave. I used to say to Johnnie, why canât you be more like him?â
âThe actors arenât here yet,â Angie said.
âNot here? Ohâ¦well, in that case I guess Iâd better run.â She gave Angie a peck on the cheek and headed for the front door. âOne bit of adviceâif you get a chance, show off what you cando in the kitchen. I mean, everything! Youâre a gifted cook, Angie. You never know where that talent might lead you.â
And with that, she was gone.
Angie didnât even have a chance to say good-bye.
Chapter 8
The victim was a Latino male, his body riddled with bullet holes. A long white, brown, and black birdâs feather was tucked into the neck of his sweatshirt.
Paavo stood over the body in a garbage-strewn alley off Alemany Boulevard. It was in one of the roughest parts of the Ingleside district.
Last week, a nineteen-year-old Guatemalan had been gunned down on Scribnerâs Street not far from there. A red-tailed hawk feather was left on his chest, tucked into a shirt buttonhole. Luis Calderon and Bo Benson, the on-call inspectors at the time, took the case.
Three days later thereâd been a second murder, also in the Ingleside. The Nicaraguan victim had a peregrine falcon feather in his jacket pocket. Calderon and Benson handled that case as well.
This morning, another call came in, similar to the last two. Calderon and Benson were swamped running down leads. With the danger of overlooking something important, Paavo had been assigned to handle the legwork on this latest shooting.
Paavo gave the okay for the coronerâs team and CSI to move in. CSI would take the feather and identify it. Judging from the length it was from a huge bird, not the type normally seen flitting around the streets of San Francisco.
Where were the shooters getting these feathers? If he and the other inspectors could figure that out, it might be a major breakthrough. They needed some kind of big lead soon. He had a bad feeling that these murders werenât going to stop without one.
He phoned Information for the number and address of the Audubon Society.
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âAngie,â Mariah called, her voice filled with outrage. âYou have company again!â
âAll right, already.â Earlier, Angie had marched into the kitchen ready to do battle, only to find it empty. She was carefully going through the spices and condiments checking for freshness. âIs it my fault if people come to visit? Sheesh!â
She marched to the front door, pulled it open, looked at her visitor, and felt her knees go weak. Before her stood Homicide Inspector Rebecca Mayfield. Rebecca held her purse over her head to protect herself from the flying snowflakes.
Angieâs heart pounded. Her brain searched for possible reasons for one of Paavoâs co-workers to come all this way to talk to herâ¦in person. Her fingers tightened on the door. âPaavo?â she whispered.
âRelax, Angie,â Rebecca said. âYouâre white as a sheet. Heâs fine. Iâm here to see
Sharon Kleve, Jennifer Conner, Danica Winters, Casey Dawes