Death at the Day Lily Cafe

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Authors: Wendy Sand Eckel
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eyes met. He had the loveliest vivid green eyes I’d ever seen.
    â€œThe birdseed worked,” Bini said.
    Tyler stood and walked over to me. “They’ve gone through four sacks already.” Bini appeared behind us a few seconds later.
    â€œBirdseed?”
    â€œCrows will keep the hawk away,” Bini said.
    â€œBut they’re huge. Are you sure they’re not ravens?”
    â€œThey are common crows,” Bini said. “Technically a raven is in the crow family. But if you’d ever seen one, you’d know these aren’t ravens.”
    I turned to look at her. “I have seen a raven. It’s the mascot at Ravens football games. It wears a little black jacket with a purple B on it. And I’m telling you, those birds are just as big.” I turned back toward the crows. “Are they at least keeping the hawk away?”
    â€œNo sign of it,” Tyler said.
    â€œIt won’t come around,” Bini said. “Not with the crows.”
    â€œBut what about the garden?” I said. “Won’t they eat the herbs and vegetables? Isn’t that why farmers have scarecrows? To keep the crows away from the fields?”
    â€œI didn’t expect this many,” Tyler said.
    â€œCrows eat insects,” Bini said. “They can help the fields.”
    â€œExcept we’re feeding them crack instead,” Tyler said under his breath.
    â€œWill they eat the chickens?” I said.
    Bini shook her head. “Won’t happen. Besides, the crows are here for the seed.”
    â€œExactly,” Tyler said. He pulled his cap lower on his forehead.
    â€œBut they’re carnivorous, right? I’ve seen them eating roadkill.”
    â€œThey’re omnivores,” Bini said. “So, sure, you’d see that. And they’re very smart. They can count to five.” She glanced over at the coop. “They might steal an egg or two.”
    I looked up into the trees. I didn’t like the thought that they were smart. And unlike the sweet trill of songbirds, the crows’ call was atonal, a squawk that hurt my ears. “Where are the chickens? Why aren’t they free ranging?”
    â€œThey’re still spooked from the hawk.” Tyler looked over at me. “What’s your breakfast special tomorrow?”
    â€œA frittata. Why?”
    He looked back at the crows. “The chickens still aren’t laying a whole lot of eggs.”
    â€œWhat chicken could lay an egg when these crows are out here getting ready to attack?”
    â€œThere was an eagle eyeing the hawk when he grabbed the chicken,” Tyler said. “I’m a little worried it will be back, with or without crows.”
    â€œSo the eagle would eat the crows?” A shiver trembled down my spine. “I feel like I’m in Jurassic Park .”
    â€œWon’t happen,” Bini said. “Not enough room for an eagle to land. A hawk can drop from the sky, but an eagle has to glide in like an airplane.” She held out her hand, palm side down, and had it come in for a landing.
    â€œThe eagle was most likely here to steal the chicken from the hawk,” Tyler said. “Eagles are scavengers. They take prey from other birds all the time, hawks, osprey, even blue herons, just ’cause they’re bigger and stronger.”
    â€œWell, isn’t it appropriate the eagle is our country’s symbol,” I said.
    â€œLove it or leave it,” Bini said.
    My mouth fell open. “Back to the eggs. A frittata requires a lot of them. Plus I’ll need more for the à la carte menu. I’m serving a feta and chive omelet.”
    â€œSounds pretty good,” Tyler said.
    â€œYou’ll have eggs.” Bini sounded as if she would lay them herself.
    Just then the flock took flight and headed right for us. One flew so low I could feel it in my hair. “Oh!” I cried, and lost my balance. Tyler grabbed my arm, and my beer bottle

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