“Good to know.” Monty pushed out of the chair. Then he stopped. “Should I tell Simon Wolfgard what was found at that house and in the shop?”
“If there were any birds around those places, he probably already knows, so a courtesy call would be prudent.” Burke looked uncomfortable. “This isn’t the best time for it, but I’d like you to arrange a meeting between me and Mr. Wolfgard at his convenience.”
“Why?”
Burke took so long to answer, Monty wasn’t sure he would. “I want to ask him for a favor.”
CHAPTER 8
Steve Ferryman hustled to reach the passenger ferry before it cast off. He wasn’t scheduled to work today, hadn’t planned to do anything but watch a movie, do some laundry, and, later, walk over to the island’s bookstore and indulge himself with a couple of new novels. But he’d looked out the window when he woke up and felt that familiar, and not always welcome, tightening between his shoulder blades—and had a feeling that he needed to be on the ferry when it made its first run of the day between Great Island and the dock at the mainland half of the village called Ferryman’s Landing.
Several Crows huddled together on the deck, black feathers fluffed against the cold.
“Do you want to go inside the cabin?” Steve asked.
After a moment, one Crow shook its head.
“Let me know if you change your mind.”
A quick look in the passenger cabin confirmed it was empty. Totally empty. Absolutely, completely empty with no trace that anyone had been in there that morning. Which meant his aunt, Lucinda Fish, wasn’t planning to open the ferry’s little coffee bar and he would have to do without his morning dose of caffeine.
Sighing, Steve went up to the wheelhouse to see his younger brother, Will, who was the captain today.
“Good morning, Yer Honor,” Will said, tugging on his forelock. “I’m surprised to see you up and about so early on your sluggard day. Tell me, sir. Is this a personal trip, or are you traveling on government business?”
“Shut up,” Steve muttered.
In looks they were night and day. Steve took after his father, Charles, with dark hair and eyes, sharp features, and a strong but wiry build. Will had the blond hair and blue eyes that he’d inherited from their mother, Rachel, along with the slender grace that was common to all the members of the Fish clan.
“Is that any way to speak to one of your constituents?” Will asked.
“You didn’t vote for me,” Steve said. “And couldn’t, since you’re not on the village council.”
“And wouldn’t have even if I could have, since I know how much you wanted the job,” Will replied cheerfully. “Which is not at all.”
When it comes to being selected for a thankless job, the man who leaves the room just before the vote is the fool who gets the job, his father often said.
Which was how, by leaving the room to relieve his bladder because he’d thought the council was going to jabber on a while longer, Steve Ferryman had found himself voted in as the new mayor of Ferryman’s Landing at the tender age of thirty. The council members must have called for the vote the moment the restroom door closed behind him.
We had a feeling you’re what the village needs right now, they’d told him when he tried to decline.
When someone in Ferryman’s Landing had a feeling, you paid attention. The Intuits had survived and prospered well enough because they paid attention when someone had a feeling.
He hadn’t wanted to be mayor, even if it wasn’t a demanding job in a small village like this one. He was a ferryman by birth and by trade, and he’d rather be on the water than anywhere else. But now he was in charge of the island’s human government, for better or worse.
“Guess it’s good you’re not at the wheel today,” Will said. “You haven’t heard a thing I’ve said in the past couple of minutes.”
“Give me a break,” Steve growled. “I barely had time for a shower. Had to give up my morning coffee to get here.”
Will gave him an odd look. “Some reason you needed to get here?”
“I had a feeling.”
Will said nothing for a moment. Then, “I guess Aunt Lu had a feeling too. You didn’t hear me when I said she brought over an extra thermos of coffee and you’re welcome to have some.”
Steve spotted the thermos, and just the sight of it had his brain cells firing up enough to create real thoughts.
“May the river bless Aunt Lu,” he said, filling a mug. “You want some?”
“I want.”
Steve filled another mug and brought it over to his brother. Then he sighed. “Clear skies. Light winds.”
“Yep. Going to be a pretty day,” Will said. “Why do you sound disappointed?”
“I’m not disappointed. I just …” It was still there—that tightness between his shoulder blades was his personal warning sign that he needed to pay attention to something. “It feels like a storm is coming.”
“Dad didn’t say anything.” Will studied the sky and then the river. “Neither did Mom or Aunt Lu.”
“These feelings aren’t always right.”
“Yours aren’t usually wrong.”
No, he wasn’t usually wrong. At least, not when it came to the river and the weather. Intuits didn’t get feelings about everything, just the things that mattered to them as individuals. So his family had more knowing about water and weather while families like Sledgeman and Liveryman knew about freight and livestock, respectively.
The crossing was uneventful. As soon as the ferry docked, the Crows flew off, splitting up into a handful of small groups that headed in different directions. They would spend the day observing everything and everyone within range, then return in time for a ride back to the island.
After helping Will secure the ferry, Steve headed up to the main street as the mail truck drove down to the dock. Sacks of mail would be offloaded and mail for the island’s residents would be loaded. Not many passengers at this time of year—and the fee charged for passage helped discourage tourists.
Clear skies, light winds. Nothing to worry about. Even so, Steve kept looking back at the river.
What was he doing on the mainland side of the village? It was his day off. He could browse in the bookstore over here to pass the time until the ferry made the return trip, but the store on the island carried the same selection. In fact, since the Others purchased books from the island’s bookstore, it carried novels by terra indigene authors that weren’t available in mainland stores that might attract tourists who were visiting the area.
But a book didn’t explain the urgency to be on the ferry this morning.
Then he saw Jerry Sledgeman coming out of the drugstore holding a newspaper.
“Jerry!” he called.
Jerry stopped and raised a hand in greeting. “What are you doing here today?”
Jerry was a decade older and had a wife and teenage daughter, as well as two young sons. Despite the difference in years and circumstance, they were friends.
“I’m not sure.” Steve looked toward the river. “I just can’t shake the feeling that there’s a storm coming.”
When Steve turned back to look at him, Jerry held out the newspaper and pointed to a story in the Lakeside News. Something about birds being run over and a city worker being struck by one of the vehicles.
Not just any kind of birds, Steve realized as he continued reading. Crows. Someone had baited a street and waited for the Crowgard to show up, but only ordinary crows were killed.
Jerry waited for him to finish reading, then said, “Now that you’re the mayor, maybe you’re developing feelings for a different kind of storm.”
Late Sunsday morning, Mr. Smith led his first client of the day to the interview room where Daisy waited for them. Unlike some of his associates, he preferred naming his girls rather than assigning them sterile designations. True, designations created a distance between the girls and their handlers, and it reminded the clients that the girls weren’t human in the same way they were human, making it easier for many clients to justify watching a girl bleed in order for them to receive a prophecy.