A solitary raven and a handful of other birds were circling when Tempest pulled up in front of Lavinia’s house.
“I know what’s going on,” Tempest said as the front door swung open. “Nearly all of it. I need to borrow the Oxford Comma tonight, and to bring everyone back.”
“I knew it.” The voice wasn’t Lavinia’s. Kumiko appeared at the side of her shocked daughter. “She thinks she’s Nancy Drew.”
“More like Hercule Poirot,” Lavinia said.
“We don’t need either of them,” Kumiko bemoaned. “We need Kindaichi. You’re too competent, Tempest. The killer won’t let their guard down around you. Kosuke Kindaichi is the Japanese equivalent of Columbo. Created decades before, but every bit as self-effacing.”
At the sound of a loud caw, the three of them looked up.
Lavinia stepped out onto the porch and pulled her sweater more tightly around her. “I don’t know what’s going on, but more and more birds are appearing each day.”
“It’s your imagination,” Kumiko snapped. “You live in the hills surrounded by trees. There are birds.”
“I don’t think it’s your imagination.” Tempest shielded her eyes from the sun and squinted at the circling birds. “If they were buzzards I’d be even more uneasy, but they’re definitely interested in something.”
A voice cried out in the distance. This one wasn’t a bird.
Tempest could have sworn it was human.
Lavinia glowered at Tempest. “Is this a trick?”
Tempest held up her hands. “If it is, it has nothing to do with me.”
“Help!” The muffled voice sounded far away, but urgent. “This is probably a wasted effort.…”
Tempest and Lavinia locked eyes. The voice was familiar. Affected. “Sylvie?” Tempest whispered.
“What are you two waiting for?” Kumiko snapped. “It’s not that frightful woman’s ghost. She’s woken up from wherever the person who knocked her out stashed her.”
“Help!”
Kumiko pointed at the stairs. “That came from inside the house. I’ll be much slower than you two, but if you insist on just standing there…”
Tempest bounded up the stairs, followed a second later by Lavinia.
“Sylvie?” Tempest called.
“Where are you?” Lavinia said at the same time.
“How would I know where I am?” Sylvie’s annoyed voice called. “I can’t see with this blasted blindfold on.”
“Closet.” Lavinia ran through a bedroom and flung open the door of a walk-in closet.
“Well,” said Sylvie’s tied up and prone form, “get these damn things off me.”