Death in the Dark

"Wait!" My voice strained against the wind blowing off the Sea of Cortez. Mulberry was a slow-moving figure several yards ahead, solid looking in the hazy light of dusk, he took his time crossing the beach. I pushed through the sand, running after him. My dog, Blue, stayed by my side, his gait lopsided.

Mulberry didn't turn until I grabbed his arm. "Wait," I panted. "You're right. I need your help."

He grinned, pushing his crow's ...