A Theft Most Fowl

by Nicole Kurtz

  “Yes.”

  “I figured.” Balthazar laughed. “Do keep me included in what you find. Yes?”

  “Of course. Real quick, Dove. Who does earth magic around here?”

  Balthazar paused. His index finger tapped his chin. “Most of the birds have access to varying degrees of earth magic, though we don’t have any true mages. The truly gifted ones get recruited down to Lanham.”

  “Okay. Who are the strongest ones here?”

  “Geraldine Finch is one of the oldest and strongest earth magic practitioners in the egg.”

  “Why doesn’t that surprise me?”

  “You keep focusing on that family. You’re being really thorough.”

  “Because that’s where the evidence keeps leading, Dove.” Prentice threw up her hands.

  “What evidence? I’ve not seen any.”

  “I see what is unseen, Dove. That’s why you sent for a hawk. Now that I’m here, I’m going to do my job.”

  “Geraldine has already threatened to make a complaint to the Order about you, and include me.” Balthazar held his ground.

  “I’m going to follow this wherever it leads.”

  “I understand. I do, but I live here. I’ll be here after you’re gone.”

  “Why? Did you ask yourself why the grandmother of a slain victim would complain about a hawk doing her duties, which means asking questions?” Prentice glared at him. “There’s something foul in that household, Dove, and I believe it got Gretchen killed.”

  Balthazar looked dazed, as if her words had been pebbles pummeling the glass views of his members.

  “You believe that?”

  She could hear the anguish in his voice.

  “Yes. Anyone is capable of killing. More importantly, I’m going to prove it.”

  The knowledge Geraldine Finch had earth magic power could crack the case wide open.

  Prentice stormed off toward the gate, leaving Balthazar gaping after her. She didn’t have time to debate the politics of egg life. She had three killings to solve.

  “This way, Hawk Tasifa.” James opened the carriage door, once Prentice cleared the gate.

  She paused with one foot on the step. “What can you tell me about the Finches?”

  James didn’t meet her eyes. “The Finches are dedicated church members.”

  Exactly the answer Prentice had expected him to give.

  “I’m not trying to alienate you from those who pay your wages. I need information. Three people are dead.”

  James glanced down at her. His grayish skin crinkled around his dark, beady eyes.

  “Not here, of course, but later,” she continued. “I can buy you a hot meal.”

  “You think I’m a renegade?” James’s deep voice rumbled.

  “No. Renegades don’t hang out with doves. You clearly respect Dove Rue.”

  “Yes, Hawk, I do.”

  “If you help me, I can resolve this before lies get back to the Order.” Prentice got into the carriage. Once she got through the seemingly impenetrable wall of silence in Gould, she could get real answers.

  “Destination?” James asked through the carriage’s window.

  “You choose, since it’s about lunch time.”

  “Yes, Hawk,” James replied.

  The outer shell contained small neighborhoods tucked into various parts of the forested areas of Gould. James took Prentice to once such place with a small restaurant featuring a sloping roof, tight quarters, a roaring hearth, and reeking odor. Vultures flocked to the spot, and carriages, both covered and uncovered, as well as horses tethered along the front crammed the outside lot. Prentice followed James inside, the lunch crowd packing the place to the gills.

  James sat in the chair across from Prentice along the windows’ edge. She’d managed to find a two-person table that allowed her back to be against the wall while facing the exits in case she need to make a hasty escape. She pulled out her cigarette, lit it, and smoked. That was all she could do to stave off the horrid smell. Carrion. Blech.

  In a matter of minutes, a man placed a plate of food in front of James. They only had one menu item, and the server didn’t bother asking Prentice if she wanted anything. Good thing too, because she didn’t eat raw, uncooked things that had been left to decay.

  James tore through the carcass with his thick, strong fingers. Blood and flesh squirted beneath his work and oozed out onto the plate. He pushed a gob into his mouth, chewed, and then swallowed. He peered across the metal plate at her.

  “The Finches are tenants of the egg, long time.”

  Prentice smoked and waited.

  “We have lived outside the shell for just as long.”

  She didn’t know if “we” meant his family or vultures in general.

  “Geraldine Finch had a hardscrabble upbringing that their family’s name hid.” James ate more of the wretched meat. He moaned softly, caught himself, and cleared his throat.

  Prentice closed her eyes and suppressed a shudder. She dug deep to remain patient.

  “Illegal work?”

  James nodded.

  “How come they weren’t caught?”

  “The shifting sands of business like that benefited the Finches and Gould’s dark underbelly.” James’s expression didn’t change as he continued. “Plus, Geraldine’s a vibrant woman, even now. She runs that household. Few cross her, and those who do, well, they vanish.”

  “Vanish?”

  James nodded. “Rumor is folks end up in the river.”

  “How has she managed to keep the Order at bay?” Prentice tapped her cigarette on the table’s edge. The ashes fell to the floor and joined discarded bones and gristle.

  “In her youth, her charm didn’t often fall flat. She has a way of homing in on others’ weaknesses.” James drank his ale.

  “Does that include Balthazar?”

  James paused. He then lowered his gaze and ate, ripping and tearing the meat with abandon. This continued so long Prentice figured he wouldn’t answer.

  “She pushed him to the periphery of church affairs but not anymore. Right?” Prentice said.

  James continued to ignore her. Clearly, he wouldn’t speak ill of his dove, so she switched topics.

  “What about Carno Finch?”

  James drank a long draft of ale, wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve, and belched.

  “Those are my feelings about him too,” Prentice said.

  James inclined his head. Vultures had no sense of humor.

  “He is the grandchild Geraldine wished Gretchen would have been—obedient. Loyal. Cruel,” James said.

  “He couldn’t inherit the line. He’s a male.”

  “To her that is his only flaw,” James said.

  “He’s the favorite.”

  Prentice could see it now. Inheritance and power were fed down matriarchal lines. Gretchen, being the first-born daughter of Bella and Oliver would’ve become the governing head of the Finch household once her grandmother and mother had died. That meant power and wealth as well as reputation.

  James chewed, but nodded in affirmation.

  Prentice sat back in the wooden chair and smoked. Her mind roiled over the new bits of information. It gave her insights into the Finch family. Balthazar’s call-out to her earlier hit home. She had been fixated on them and Gretchen. The other two deaths deserved her attention, too, and she’d bet her wings they had connections to what had happened to Gretchen. She just had to figure out how they connected.

  “There are two more bodies on the green. Did you know that?” Prentice asked James.

  In the shadowy corners of this vulture dive, a relaxed and forthcoming James surprised her. He didn’t seem to worry about anyone overhearing their conversation. Perhaps their fellow diners had other concerns than about what had happened with their church-loving community members.

  “Dove Rue told me yesterday. He said to wait until you said it was okay to remove them.”

  “Had you seen them before?” Prentice asked.
How could the eagles with their sharp eyes and vulture with their affinity for death miss two dead bodies, one burnt to ash and the other a skeleton?

  “We routinely clear the grounds of trash and debris, including the church green. Those bodies didn’t appear until Gretchen’s body did.”

  Prentice nodded. Magic. Probably something similar to her fading spell. None of the search party spied the bodies until Gretchen’s body arrived there. Something broke that spell.

  “Once you’re done with lunch, I need to go to the eagle’s station.” Prentice placed a coin on the table that should more than cover lunch and tip for the server.

  “Yes, Hawk.”

  Chapter Nine

  Eagle Jamison stood on the porch of the security station when Prentice arrived. He was smoking a cigarette. At first, she didn’t recognize him, but as she approached, his scent alerted her to his identity.

  She stopped at the foot of the stairs. Now that she could see, it surprised her that Jamison had a shaved head and wide-set blue eyes. He had a strong jaw, and his ears were pointed at their ends. The eagles’ uniforms were green with yellow stripes along the sides. He had a utility belt around his waist, which included a gun, a knife of some kind, and other items needed to secure and subdue.

  “I thought you were coming over this morning,” Jamison said by way of greeting.

  “I got tied up with other things,” Prentice said, still a bit out of sorts by putting Jamison’s appearance with the voice and scent she met last night. “The offer’s still good, right?”

  “Oh yeah. ’Course.” He put out his cigarette on the wooden railing and gestured for her to follow him inside.

  Inside the station, eagle decor took over. The foundation and walls were built from stone, but the overhead ceiling revealed exposed beams. Wooden floors stretched outward through the structure. Everywhere she looked, she spied eagles working, either hunched over desks writing, some were shelving files and some were talking to citizens. The place had an inviting hum to it. It didn’t feel like the eagle stations she’d previously visited. It probably had to do with the fact Gould was such a small egg, and everyone knew everyone else.

  “I thought you’d be here earlier, so I had O’Neil set up this little study area for you.” He opened the door to a small closet-like room. It had two lanterns lit on a shelf, a metal folding table and matching chair.

  “Charming,” Prentice said.

  “It isn’t much, but it’s some place quiet where you can sift through reports,” Jamison said with a smile. “Look, I’m sorry about last night.”

  Prentice realized that they stood close together in the doorway’s entrance. Jamison was tall, about 6’ 2,” and had several inches on her. She could feel him breathing. He looked across to her. The look spoke volumes about how he might want to make it up to her.

  “Thank you,” Prentice said and stepped farther into the room. “Any luck finding Boris or Brian?”

  He shook his head. “Alpha unit’s out in the outer shell now, knocking on doors and shaking trees.”

  “You’ll let me know when you find them.” Prentice made it a statement, not a question.

  “Of course. Would you like some tea?” he asked. “It’s almost time.”

  “Sure, and missing persons’ reports for the last two weeks.”

  “Sure thing.”

  Jamison left, to her relief. Prentice removed the glass containers from her utility belt. She needed to identify them. It looked strange and unnerving to see a person reduced to this—odd bones, teeth, and hair. She couldn’t get used to the violence people inflicted upon others.

  She slipped them back into their pouch and took out her pad. Over the last three days, she’d taken lots of notes on the case. The eagles’ reports arrived on parchment scrolls, tied with leather. The eagle who dropped them off looked like he’d recently been kicked out of the home, barely old enough to work.

  “Here you go, Hawk Tasifa,” he said with a strong blush and a wobbly cadence.

  “You are...?” Prentice took the scrolls.

  “Eagle Smith.”

  “It’s nice to meet you. Will you shut the door as you leave?”

  “Yes, Hawk.” He bowed and bolted through the door.

  Prentice didn’t think she looked that intimidating. She chuckled and got settled at the desk. It held deep scars from writing instruments and what looked like frequent re-locations. The tiny space had a window right above the desk, and she could look out on the pathway that ran in front of the station.

  Four scrolls. Four missing persons in Gould in the last couple of weeks. That couldn’t be right. Could it? She took the first scroll, loosened its tie, and unrolled it. The report date was Robin 23rd, two weeks before Prentice arrived in Gould. She’d arrived the early evening of Canari 1st.

  According to the report, a rooster named Alicia Redfern had gone missing. Last seen on the 22nd. Her mother, a Mary Ann Redfern, had filed the report. Prentice had picked up a bit about Gould neighborhoods. Alicia’s address was in the outer shell in Coopertino. Where she worked snared Prentice’s attention. Dale’s Coop.

  She made a note in her pad. She wanted to go back to Dale’s and ask around. She didn’t want to disturb Alicia’s mom without having anything to give her in return. If she had to guess, the skeleton on the green was Alicia. The illustration of her depicted a pretty woman, blond hair with only a few scars along her cheek and forehead. She had one beneath her eye, which she had turned into a flower, complete with pink petals. The only other facial scar was along the corner of her lip, where a nail must’ve hooked her mouth. Alicia had tattooed stars from the injury up to her cheek in a starburst.

  Prentice scribbled her notes and then went to the next scroll. There she found another missing woman, Tammy Jo Greer. She didn’t work at Dale’s. Nothing had been written in the employer spot. One thing caught Prentice’s attention. Tammy Jo also lived in Coopertino. The illustration depicted a heavy-set woman with a round face, thick with scars along the left side of that face. She wore her hair in chunky braids with bright red tips. Silver piercings decorated her scars.

  Prentice found her pretty. Her wife reported her missing. She also had three chicks. A mom, a wife, and a missing person. Prentice wrote down the information to ask Dale and Darlene about later, before visiting Tammy Jo’s wife. She didn’t want to upset the families.

  Her disappearance happened earlier than Alicia’s, which meant Prentice had to revise her timeline. She crossed out information and updated her notes. She rolled the report up and secured it. She did the same for Alicia’s report. Two more reports remained. One had to be Gretchen’s. She had a strange feeling in her feathers. None of these women knew how close they came to danger until it was too late.

  Thumping hard against the door, Jamison made his way in. His arms held a teapot, a teacup, sugar, and milk, all on a tray. He offered a crooked smile. “Tea!”

  Prentice glanced up from her notes. “Great.”

  He looked at her desk, and then the tray. “I’ll put this over here.” He set the tray down on the floor beside the desk.

  “Thank you.”

  “You have any questions?” Jamison leaned against the wall, blocking the door.

  “Tell me about the Coopertino neighborhood.” Prentice shifted in the seat to look at him.

  He shrugged thick shoulders. “It’s in the outer shell. Mostly residential area occupied by roosters, though there are a few crows who live there too. Outside of the pecking order fights and general domestic situations, it’s not a bad area. We don’t get many calls to go out there. They tend to take care of things themselves.”

  “Two of the four reports for missing persons are from Coopertino.” Prentice pointed to the two scrolls.

  Jamison shrugged again. “We figured they were runaways.”

  “Tammy Jo has a wife and children. She’s not some rebellious teen. People don’t often walk away from that without divorce. Parents want to be near their children.”

>   “Tammy Jo had a difficult marriage. We got calls to come out there and settle their domestics a few times. We figured she ran off and she didn’t want to be found. Maybe she left to cool off and think. You know? We thought she’d be back.” Jamison stared down at the floor.

  “She’s been missing since Robin 18th.” Prentice shook her head.

  “I did assign an eagle to investigate and follow up. I can check with her,” he said. “She may have an update.”

  “You do that.” Prentice turned back to the desk and selected the next scroll. She heard the door close behind her.

  The next scroll was indeed Gretchen’s. Prentice didn’t glean any additional information than she had from the family and Balthazar. The dates aligned to what she’d been told and what she had read in the request Balthazar sent the Order. She quickly rolled it back up and placed it on the pile with the others.

  Three.

  The final scroll held two names: Boris and Brian Greer. Cousins to Tammy Jo. They worked at the local timber company as loggers. Both men were last seen on Robin 30th, the day after Gretchen went missing and a day before her body was found. Their parents reported them missing. They also lived in Coopertino. That’s four people who had gone missing in the last two weeks.

  It wasn’t a coincidence.

  It was a pattern.

  Prentice wrote down the information in her pad. She stood up and stretched. Outside, the daylight faded. She groaned, stretching her wings in the tight space. She’d been reviewing and working for well over an hour and a half.

  She opened the door and stepped out into the hallway. The busy station had calmed. Those who’d come in during lunch had left. She found Jamison at the front desk, talking to a man seated there. She recognized him as Eagle Smith, and she waved as she approached.

  “Hello,” Prentice said.

  Jamison turned around and so did Eagle Smith, who shot out of his chair.

  “Are you finished already?” Jamison asked.

  “I’m done with the reports. Thank you for letting me review them. Can I speak to you, in private, Eagle Jamison?”

  “Of course.”