The sun beat down, baking the asphalt and sending a shimmering mirage into the air up the road from the barbershop. Harlan watched as a pair of mockingbirds fought over a scrap of paper on the bandstand in the square. He wasn"t listening to whatever Ted Bartley was droning on about. It was just too hot to listen, watch the mockingbirds and ignore the cell phone buzzing in his pocket all at once. He did not recognize the number and silenced it.
The mockingbirds each seemed intent on ending up with the paper, though what the victor intended to do with it once he had vanquished his lesser, Harlan hadn"t a clue. The first mockingbird, the smaller one, snatched the paper and made a mad dash around the bandstand but ducked back inside, close enough to the other, larger bird to allow a grab at t
