CHAPTER ELEVEN
The next day, the crows flew in agitated circles high above Raven Hill Manor reflecting the upset of the resident within.
Mariette Garrou sat perched on a leather wing chair in the parlor of her mansion listening to that evening’s edition of All Things Considered. Her pale face looked even tighter than it did normally, her thin lips all but disappeared due to the tension etched on her face. Though she always comported herself in a stiff, formal way, her current rigidity was the result of a terrible internal pressure. She absentmindedly worried a lace handkerchief she held as she listened to the report.
“Tragic news coming out of Washington today,” the newsreader said, “as we gather more details on the shocking death of Congressman Simuel A. Thompson, killed last night in
