Eye of the Falcon (Psychic Visions #12)(81)

Of course it would be a bird. Everything in his world right now was birds. Feathers were everywhere inside and outside of his house. He could barely take a step without finding yet another one. Celina just smiled and kept sweeping them up. He wasn’t quite so generous. But, at the same time, he knew they were signs. Messages. And he was obviously not getting it. Even though the birds were revealing more breadcrumbs for him to follow.

As he went to draw the owl once again, his hand stopped. Surprised, he realized something else was going on here. He closed his eyes, tilted his head down, and sent out a whisper. “Tell me what you need. Show me what you need.” Then his hand took off, sketching like a madman across the two-foot-by-two-foot canvas in front of him.

He kept his eyes closed, knowing something special was happening. There was a sense of urgency. A sense of panic. He could feel the birds outside alighting, more agitated, their vocals louder, stronger. It was hard to know what was going on. And yet he knew that, if he pushed it, if he opened his eyes and interfered in the process, he’d break the spell, and he’d have to start over again.

Accepting that, he sank deeper into the trance.

He barely heard the door open or his wife approaching, but, when she sat beside him, not touching, just sitting close to him, her whisper was audible. “My God, Stefan.”

Finally his hand dropped. Sore, fatigued, the inside of him squished flat, like run through some kind of a wringer washing machine, he felt a sense of exhaustion both for himself and whoever sent the message. He opened his eyes, and one of the most incredible wildlife pictures sat before him.

In black charcoal on the white canvas was a beautiful falcon soaring high above a craggy cliff. And yet at the same time, in the top corner was, once again, a very small faint owl’s head. Humbug overlooked the whole process, and yet this falcon, the same spirit falcon that he’d seen earlier, soared across his canvas. So majestic, Stefan swallowed. He didn’t understand what was going on, but he did know one thing. He would keep this drawing.

Celina slipped her hand into his. “He’s dead, isn’t he?”

“I don’t think so. But, if he is, he’s got a very strong message to give.”

“How can you tell?”

“Look at his feet.” And, indeed, dangling from his talons were jewels, long strands of brightly colored jewels.

“Necklaces?” She stared at the canvas for a long moment and said in bewilderment, “I don’t understand.”

Stefan sighed. “Neither do I.”





Chapter 25





Issa circled the duplicate keepsake box warily. “You sent him pictures of the two boxes we got from my place?”

Eagle nodded. “The small one was very distinctive. Your mother said it was a matched set. Panther and Tiger have copies as well.”

Squatting, she tried to open the box, but it was locked. There was a small keyhole. She held out her hand for the key. Eagle stared at her. “How do you know I didn’t give it to Panther?”

She shot him a look and said, “I’m pretty sure Panther would have had his father cut a spare.”

He smiled and pulled out the key. “He did, indeed. They swung by his place on the way to the airport and sent this one back to me. This is hardly a safe. He said it belonged to a safe.”

“This is actually a strongbox.”

She put the key inside and turned. It didn’t open. She studied at it for a long moment, shaking her head. “And I thought this would be it.”

She turned to Eagle. “Hawk is right. Panther’s father said a safe. This isn’t a safe.” Then she stood and swore softly. “When you asked if I would’ve hidden anything down there, … well, I didn’t hide it. But I found a key behind the wood. I used to play with it all the time. But I didn’t hide it originally. I found it.”

Silently, she led Eagle back to the little alcove. She crouched down, slipped her fingers behind one of the slats, and pulled out the key. She held it up. With his fingers to his lips, they raced back to the bedroom. She walked in, holding the key out to Hawk.

He shook his head. “This is just too bizarre.”

He positioned himself between the door and Issa. She sat down on the bed, put the key into the box, and, indeed, it opened. Inside were several velvet bags, stacks of money, and more envelopes—probably containing documents.

She picked up the cash. “Well, this answers that question. It’s a miracle over all these years no one found it and emptied it.”

Eagle picked up one of the velvet bags and opened it carefully. Out fell a beautiful jeweled necklace.

She stared at it. “Now that’s not good.”

“Why?” Hawk asked.

“My mother had a picture of this. I said how beautiful it was, and she said it was a piece of the devil’s work.” She shook her head. “Didn’t you see the pictures of this in her files that we scanned?”

Eagle nodded. “Yes. I sent them off to an appraiser to see if he knew who and what the pieces were. But I haven’t heard back yet.”

“There were three or four pictures.” Issa pointed to the velvet bags. “What do you want to bet …? Let’s find out for sure.” She carefully opened a second velvet bag to find another extremely rare and extremely valuable-looking necklace with long strands of sapphires—dark midnight-blue sapphires. She fingered them gently. “So beautiful.”