A Murder of Crows (A Darcy Sweet Cozy Mystery #7)

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Authors: K.J. Emrick
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the police all the time,” Jon put in, trying to make what they were doing seem rational.  “She’s helped me solve several cases.”
    “By holding men’s hands?” Brad quipped.  “Must get a lot of dates that way.”
    Jon’s face darkened, and Darcy figured now was a good time to start.
    Which was when she saw Jeff.
    She tried to ignore him, but he leaned his ghostly face down in between her and Brad, screaming words at her that were muted and distorted.  No matter how hard he tried he couldn’t make the words come through.  She knew how frustrating it was for ghosts who weren’t able to get their message across.  Darcy felt almost sorry for him.
    Almost.   She still wasn’t over the sting of seeing him with Marla.
    She closed her eyes, trying to ignore him, but the whispery sho uting continued.  Even in death he was annoying.
    Breathing in and out and in again, she held her breath and focused on the feel of Brad’s hands in hers.  Then in and out and in again, and push out with her life force.
    She felt it, just like Millie had explained in her book.  The humming heat spread out from her hands and across Brad’s and she could feel the way it—
    Jeff screamed in her ear and she winced, turning and slapping at the air with her hand.  His visage smeared like smoke before he backed away from her , angry and surprised.  “Go away!” she shouted at him.
    Brad looked over at Jon, his eyes wide.  “Uh, don’t worry,” Jon said to him.  “There was a fly on her neck.  Big one.”
    “Look, man,” Brad said to him, “I don’t care if she’s full on crazy.  If you believe her when she says I didn’t do this, that’s all that matters to me.”
    Sighing, eyeing Jeff warily before closing her eyes again, Darcy settled her thoughts and went back into her breathing techniques.  In and out and in again, hold it.  In and out and in again, hold it.
    She concentrated on his hands and fe lt that same heat seeping out from her, covering his skin.  He must have felt it, too, because his fingers twitched.  Four times she repeated that process, then she opened her eyes on the exhale.
    Nothing.   There was nothing there.
    If there had been murder on Brad’s conscience, if he had killed Marla or anyone else, she would be able to see bloodstains on his hands.  That’s what her aunt’s book had said in one of the more advanced techniques for those with the gift.  The book was a little fuzzy as to whether the psychic stains would be visible to anyone else, but they were supposed to be plain as day to her.  She’d never done this before, of course, but she knew that she’d done it the right way.  It had worked just like it should have.
    Which meant Brad was not the killer.
    “He’s clean,” she said to Jon, letting go of Brad’s hands.  He took them back, staring at them in front of his face.
    “What did you do?” he asked her.  “That was…intense.”
    “Calm down, big boy,” Jon said to him.  “The point is, she says you didn’t kill Marla.  That’s good enough for me.”
    Jeff tried getting Darcy’s attention again now that she was finished with her psychic investigation.  She waved her hand through him again as he got too close, making his specter gasp and clutch at his chest as if she’d physically hurt him, which was absurd, but leave it to Jeff to be melodramatic even in death.
    “What about the rest of it? ” Brad asked them.  “What about my friend leaving the bar with me around four, and going straight home?  Hard for him to kill anyone if he was home.”
    “Assuming he stayed home,” Jon pointed out.  Brad glared at him.
    Darcy was having a hard time watching Brad and Jon.  Jeff kept getting in the way.  “Jon, can we go now, please?  We’ve learned everything we can here, I think.  Plus, I need some fresh air,” she added, glaring at Jeff.  He managed to look offended and started shouting at her again, the sound of it like someone trying to scream

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