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    Extinction: An Austin Druidic Detective Agency mystery, #1
    Extinction: An Austin Druidic Detective Agency mystery, #1
    Extinction: An Austin Druidic Detective Agency mystery, #1
    Ebook37 pages30 minutes

    Extinction: An Austin Druidic Detective Agency mystery, #1

    By Anna Castle

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    About this ebook

    Melody Mockingbird, investigator for the Austin Druidic Detective Agency, must solve the murder of a beloved jazz singer before all memory of both the woman and the crime are extinguished.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherAnna Castle
    Release dateJan 4, 2020
    ISBN9781393475033
    Extinction: An Austin Druidic Detective Agency mystery, #1
    Author

    Anna Castle

    Anna Castle writes the Francis Bacon mysteries and the Lost Hat, Texas mysteries. She has earned a series of degrees -- BA in the Classics, MS in Computer Science, and a PhD in Linguistics -- and has had a corresponding series of careers -- waitressing, software engineering, grammar-writing, assistant professor, and archivist. Writing fiction combines her lifelong love of stories and learning. She physically resides in Austin, Texas and mentally counts herself a queen of infinite space.

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      Book preview

      Extinction - Anna Castle

      1

      I WAS SITTING AT MY desk typing up my notes from yesterday’s lost dog assignment when I realized the Druid was watching me. It was a kind of a prickling sensation on the back of your neck. They called it gooseflesh, but of course other birds got it too. The sense that you’d been singled out by a predator.

      Druids weren’t predators; I didn’t mean to imply that, and I would deny it if anyone quoted me. Most of them were vegetarians, although that was partly about staying thin. Which I wasn’t judging. I happened to be an omnivore myself, like all members of the Mockingbird affinity, but it was all good.

      Oz stood beside the reception desk, perfectly balanced on both feet, as straight and tall as a Greek column. Oz was what we call the Austin Druid. It was sort of a cross between a title and a nickname. His actual name was one of those unpronounceable, ten-syllable, ancient Celtic handles. He was talking on his cell and looking at me through the wide archway into the investigators’ room with that neutral but focused gaze that said he was talking about me. It could be bad news or good. He could be asking his hairdresser about dying his hair black with gray streaks to match mine. Or consulting another Druid about reviving the ancient rites of sacrifice with me as the first offering. It was all one with Druids. They took the long view.

      I kept my eyes on my report. There wasn’t much to say. I’d found Rusty the Dog in about as much time as it took me to walk around the block. You couldn’t hide from a mockingbird, avian or human. We were the state bird of Texas for a reason: we were everywhere. Human members of the affinity, like me, got the best of both parts of the Natural world. I got the all the twitter from my birdie brethren, but I could also drive cars, knock on doors, and talk to the Disconnected.

      Which was why locating lost things was my specialty at the Austin Druidic Detective Agency. The pay was not great, but I got to spend a lot of time outdoors. And I was angling to move up from pooches to persons.

      I slid another glance at Oz. Still talking, still looking at me. I sent my report to the printer, then flipped open the Austin Chronicle and scanned the

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