10/13/21 Snippet, DEATH SENDS A PACKAGE.

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 “Any of that famous human intuition blooming, Liam?”

“It keeps trying to grow,” I replied, “but somebody’s blocking all the sunlight. Come on, Detective. You know we can’t turn it on and off like that. If it hits, it hits. Until then, I gotta investigate, just like you. Speaking of investigating: anybody see anything?”

“Just the body. It got found by a Mike Harding” — as usual for fae, Sunset made a hash of the ‘K’ sound — “while he was doing a delivery for the restaurant in front. Whoever did for Drowsy dumped him under the trash bags afterward. The restaurant’s supposed to have cameras watching the rear…”

“…But you can’t count on that these days.” Fae don’t like video cameras; they say it’s because of ‘radiation,’ which is the word they use for everything they don’t like about human technology. This close to Faetown, keeping a CCTV security system running was an uphill battle. A lot of places just stop trying. “When’s trash day?”

“Two days from now.” Sunset scratched where an ear would be, if it was my head. “I don’t know why the murderer thought that would help.”