Leo grabbed his own cookie-crumbed fist. "I don't care."
Leo sighed, the cookie crumbling in his fist. He knew the signs. When Elara used words like "statistically anomalous," the world stopped until the mystery was solved.
"Footnotes don't get danger pay," she said.
The window faced Mrs. Gable’s house next door. Mrs. Gable was a retired librarian who grew roses and yelled at squirrels. But right now, her front door was wide open. Her car was still in the driveway. And on her doormat, in what looked like a frantic hand, someone had scattered a dozen iridescent blue feathers.