Girl Among Crows by Brendon Vayo

Author:Brendon Vayo [Vayo, Brendon]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: CamCat Publishing

26

JULY 27, 2021

I cram in a walk, breathing in dust from a construction crew, when trees writhe with birds. The Brotherhood’s familiars crowding so they can unleash their power on me. One lands on a nearby park bench.

“Shoo,” I scream. “Shoo.”

The raven flaps away with an angry squawk. I’m about to turn when I see what it left behind on the bench’s backrest.

A rusty talon print. In dried blood.

I hold my throat and burst into the lobby, passing people who gawk at me.

“Mrs. Meraux?”

I turn at the sound of my outdated name. Or at least ambiguous. Am I still “Mrs. Meraux?” Am I “Ms. Meraux?” Or “Ms. Gauge?”

The hotel clerk is a pretty Asian woman with a bright flower clipped to her hair. My phone buzzes in my face before I can complete the call to Henderson. Right on cue with my existential crisis about who I am is a missed call from Karl. Great. Another problem. We haven’t spoken since the comment about Gerard probably sleeping all day after chemo.

“Yes?” I say.

The clerk pushes my mail across the counter. One, a manila envelope, is way too fancy for me. The writing is so elegant, I can’t even read it.

“Delivered this afternoon, Mrs. Meraux,” says the clerk, with a tiny bow.

The envelope is scented. My thumb takes a nasty cut tearing it open, thank you very much, either because of the patchouli oil or something else. Wouldn’t be the first time someone thought poison would keep me silent.

“Thank you,” I say.

Another buzz. The text’s from Henderson.

Old black Ram. Plate 831-ARC. Econo Lodge. Revere.

More thinking dots.

Driver matches photo of Trevor Fleming.

The Brotherhood’s leader is shacked up in Revere, Massachusetts. And my guy has him. Finally, some good news, though from the letter I see it’ll be the last bit I’ll hear tonight.

The letter’s from Courtney.

Of course it is. I send a certified letter. After throwing me under the bus to the committee, Courtney responds with something Maid Marian wrote to King Richard. It’s ornate calligraphy and even looks like she wrote on a ruler, ensuring each word stays within imaginary lines. Who has she become, besides a lab tech at a pharmaceutical company?

My eyes find a two-sentence paragraph in the middle.

What you are doing here is really wrong.

Like a hatchet to my chest.

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