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  Copyright & Information

  A Parliament of Owls

  © Chris Goff; House of Stratus 2015

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without the prior permission of the publisher. Any person who does any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

  The right of Chris Goff to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted.

  This edition published in 2015 by Astor and Blue LLC

  Suite 23A, 1330 Avenue Of The Americas,

  New York, NY 10019, U.S.A.

  Typeset by Astor and Blue LLC

  A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library and the Library of Congress.

  ISBN EAN Edition

  1941286623 9781941286623 Print

  1681200066 9781681200064 Kindle

  1941286631 9781941286630 Epub

  194128664X 9781941286647 Pdf

  This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not be lent, resold, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher's express prior consent in any form of binding, or cover, other than the original as herein published and without a similar condition being imposed on any subsequent purchaser, or bona fide possessor.

  This is a fictional work drawn from the author's imagination and all characters (alive or dead), places, incidents, quotations, and events portrayed herein are either fictitious,

  or are used fictitiously at the Author's discretion and responsibility.

  www.houseofstratus.com

  About the Author

  Chris Goff is the award-winning author of the bestselling "Birdwatcher's Mystery" series. She was named 'Rocky Mountain Fiction Writers' 2002 Writer of the Year' and two of her novels were also finalists for the prestigious 'Willa Literary Award for Best Original Paperback Fiction'. Her latest book, 'Death Shoots A Birdie', was also a Finalist for the 'Colorado Authors League Best Genre Fiction' Award.

  Having grown up in a small mountain town in Colorado, she spent a lot of time outdoors—camping, fishing, hiking, playing tennis and skiing, with wildlife always around. Her father was a true outdoorsman and together they explored the wilderness of Colorado, sailed in Maine and walked extensively from the sandy California beaches to the windswept cliffs of Cornwall, England.

  It was her mother, however, who was the major influence on Chris commencing a writing career. She encouraged her from an early age, and later her job as a Vice President of the Gannett Broadcasting led to Chris growing up surrounded by some of the best media talent in the country.

  At college Chris studied journalism, determined to become an investigative reporter. Deciding this was not for her, however, she tried her hand at a variety of jobs—PR, engineering, ice cream store manager—until finally returning to writing.

  She began by writing non-fiction for several local newspapers in Summit County, Colorado, as well as articles for regional and national publication. She later edited rock and ice-climbing guides for the 'Chockstone Press', worked in graphic production for 'Living the Good News', and taught writing workshops for the Colorado Free University, the University of Colorado, and at writer's conferences internationally.

  A long-standing member of multiple writing organizations, she has served on several local, regional and national boards, including that of the 'Mystery Writers of America'.

  Dedication

  Dedicated to the amazing Colorado birders on the CoBirds list,

  who helped me pick just the right owls.

  Acknowledgments

  Several people helped me by providing technical information for this story. My deepest thanks to: David Lucas, Project Leader of the Rocky Mountain Arsenal National Wildlife Refuge Complex. He is the head of law enforcement on the refuge, and any resemblance to any of my law enforcement characters is purely coincidental. David helped me understand the complex relationship between the various entities that might be involved in solving a crime on the Refuge. If I got it wrong, it’s on me.

  I would also like to give a shout out to the staff of the Visitors Center. They spent lots of time walking me around the exhibits and answering my myriad of questions.

  Additional thanks to my fellow writers and friends. To my RMFW and RMMWA buddies, you know who you are; to the members of my critique group: Marlene Henderson, Laurie Walcott, Chris Jorgensen, Suzanne Proulx, Bruce Most, Tom Farrell, Mike McClanahan, Piers Peterson and Jedeane Macdonald; and to Robert Astle, who wanted me to write about owls.

  Finally, thanks to Peter Rubie, who has been a huge support this year; my family for their unconditional love; and my new publisher, Astor + Blue Editions, who is committed to keeping the Birdwatcher’s Mystery series circulating. I can think of no better partners than David Lane, Robert Astle, and Jillian Ports to help me navigate the waters of today’s publishing world.

  Author’s Notes

  In A Parliament of Owls, I have brought back Angela Dimato, the US Fish & Wildlife Special Agent from Death Takes a Gander. In A Parliament of Owls, Angela finds herself reassigned to the National Eagle and Wildlife Property Repositories, located on the Rocky Mountain Arsenal Refuge in Commerce City, Colorado.

  The Refuge offered an interesting setting for a variety of reasons. Originally it was inhabited by bands of Native Americans that roamed the land following the herds of bison. In the 1860s, homesteaders moved in and put down roots. Then, in 1942, the Army expropriated the property to build a munitions plant in the heart of the U.S. Later a Super Fund site, the Arsenal was designated a Wildlife Refuge in 1992—primarily due to a pair of nesting bald eagles.

  Located just northeast of Denver, Colorado, the Refuge comprises 15,000 acres of prairie, wetland and woodland habitat. It is home to over 330 species of mammals, birds, reptiles, amphibians, and fish. In the spring, you can see Bullock’s orioles, warblers, finches, and other migrating songbirds, and the prairie dog pups and bison calves are plentiful. In the summer the prairie blooms and the burrowing owls come in to raise their youngplus it’s a great time to fish. In the fall, the coyotes are well-camouflaged, the mule and white-tailed deer bucks show off their antlers, and the Refuge lakes provide a haven for migrating water fowl. Then, in the winter, numerous bald eagles come to roost, along with ferruginous hawks and other raptors looking to pick off an easy meal against the blanket of snow that covers the grass.

  But, in spite of its idyllic setting and aggressive conservation efforts, there are other important things at play on the Refuge. In the United States, it is illegal for any individual to possess a bald or golden eagle or its parts without proper authorization. Located on the Refuge, the National Eagle Repository provides a central location for the receipt and storage of bald and golden eagles parts and their distribution to Native Americans and Alaskan Natives, enrolled in federally recognized tribes, for use in religious ceremonies.

  This comes into play, as well as the conservation issues on protecting other wildlife, as Angela finds herself face to face with death with only A Parliament of Owls to bear witness.

  Introduction

  Growing up in a small mountain town in Colorado, my father and I fed the hummingbirds. He identified them as broad-tailed hummingbirds, though years later I learned there are actually four different hummingbirds that are common migrants or summer residents of Colorado. It was years after that when my husband taught me to stand very still with my hand outstretched under the feeder to let the hummingbirds perch on my fingers to eat.

  As a child growing up in the Rockies, I watched ouzels bob for food along the shore while I was fishing, stood open-mouthed as a red-tailed hawk caught dinner among the wildflowers just beyond camp. Spending summers with my grandmother in Maine, I loved watching the antics of the herring gulls diving for tidbits behind the lobster boats and marveled at the puffin colony on Eastern Egg Rock.

  Is it any wonder that years later, when I decided to try my hand at writing mystery novels, I found myself time and again coming back to stories with environmental themes involving birds? At that time, having been a backyard birdwatcher all my life, I could identify all the birds that clambered to my feeders—51 different species. But it was in doing research for my novels that I discovered the bigger world of birding beyond my backyard.

  Birders come in all shapes and sizes and with a huge diversity in knowledge. While some birdwatchers just enjoy looking at birds, others want to know the unique characteristics that determine the breakdown of species and subspecies. While some delight in just spotting a bird in the trees, others are only content when they can hear its call. While some thrill at the sight of a robin, others are only interested in the bird they can add to their life list.

  To expand my knowledge of birding, I decided the first thing to do was to sign up for a birding trip. The next one coming up happened to be The Rio Grande Valley Birding Festival in Harlingen, TX. My first outing: a canoe trip down the Rio Grande with what turned out to be fifteen world class birders from all over the U.S. and Europe. Sixteen of us pushed off—fifteen seeking life birds (a bird they’d never seen before) and me, for which nearly every bird was a life bird. I remember my canoe mate even teaching me the proper way to use my brand new binoculars.

  After that, I was hooked. Since then I have gone on at least two birding trips a year, and birded in nearly every state in the U.S., Canada, Mexico, the Caribbean
, Europe, Eastern Europe and Israel. Yet I would still dub myself an intermediate birder, at best. I’m good at spotting the birds, slow at identifying them, and hopeless at birding by ear. Still, I’m continually fascinated by the stories I hear and the things I’ve learned through watching birds and talking with other birders. I’ve discovered that the issues affecting birds have global themes relating to the environment and driven by things that resonate with all of us—money, land, love, pride, and power.

  It was with this basic understanding I set out to write the Birdwatcher’s Mystery series—a group of funny, sometimes serious mystery stories populated with birdwatchers ranging from the amateur to the professional. A Rant of Ravens explores the illegal trading of peregrine falcons to the Middle East; Death of a Songbird looks at the coffee industry and its effects on migratory songbirds; A Nest in the Ashes considers the impact of prescribed burns on wildlife; Death Takes a Gander explores the reasons for a die-off of Canada geese; A Sacrifice of Buntings compares the basic nature of the painted bunting and the keynote speakers at a birding conventions; and, A Parliament of Owls, the newest in the series, looks at the human impact on endangered species.

  Mostly, I hope I’ve presented these important themes in a manner that is accessible and entertaining for everyone, from the novice to the expert, and that gets people thinking about the world they live in.

  Happy birdwatching and happy reading!

  Chapter 1

  Angela Dimato saw the crowd waiting for her in front of the Rocky Mountain Arsenal’s Visitor Center and briefly considered turning around. She counted several adults and at least a dozen grade-schoolers, ages eight to ten. Not exactly her idea of a fun morning of birding. It’s not that she didn’t like kids, she just hated being outnumbered.

  Swinging the truck into a VIP parking spot, she cut the motor and reached for her duty belt. She might be playing tour guide this morning, but she was still a U. S. Fish and Wildlife Special Agent and she still planned to carry her gun. She cinched on the belt and checked to make sure her holster was secured.

  Through the passenger window, she caught sight of her boss, Wayne Canon, walking toward her and waving. “Good, you’re here,” he called out. “I brought some gear over for the kids and their teachers. They’re ready to go.”

  Angela climbed out of the truck and tucked a birding guide into her back pocket. “You owe me, Canon.”

  “Trust me, I know,” Wayne said. As the Special Agent in Charge of Law Enforcement for USFW’s Region 6, he’d also been acting Project Director for the Rocky Mountain Arsenal National Wildlife Refuge Complex for the past month. The complex was a group of three national wildlife refuges along the Front Range, and Wayne was in over his head. Over worked and under staffed, he had pulled Angela out of the field and assigned her to the National Eagle and Wildlife Property Repositories. Now he was having her babysit.

  Initially, the move to the repository had rubbed her the wrong way. She’d taken it as an indictment of her abilities as an agent, like when she’d been reassigned to cover the fishing tournament in Elk Park immediately following Ian’s murder. Blaming herself for his death seemed like punishment enough. She was supposed to have been his backup, and he might still be alive if she’d gotten out to the lake more quickly. The images of him swinging in the bird-banding nets still haunted her. But she was a good agent, and she wanted to be, deserved to be out in the field.

  Then she found she liked working the repository. She liked working alone, performing forensic investigations on crimes involving wildlife. She felt like she was helping to make a dent in the $23 billion illegal wildlife product industry.

  But leading a Monday-morning summer school class on a birding tour of the Refuge...that fell way outside of her purview.

  “You owe me big time,” she said, reaching back behind the seat for her binoculars and spotting scope.

  Wayne glanced over his shoulder at the group and lowered his voice. “I wouldn’t have asked you to cover if I had anyone else. I have two agents out and our usual go-to called in sick. I’ll make it up to you, Dimato. I promise.”

  Famous last words, but it was a chit she intended to collect on.

  Angela’s gaze swept the sun-drenched prairie. In the distance, the Continental Divide cut a purple swatch across the clear blue sky, beckoning with the promise of cooler temperatures. At 7:30 a.m., it had already climbed to seventy-two degrees on the plains and promised to be one of the hottest July days on record.

  “I’ll bet you that your ‘go-to’ girl got up and went to the mountains,” Angela said.

  “Yeah, well, she’s going to up and get hers before it’s all said and done.” Wayne took the scope from Angela’s hand and gestured for her to follow. “Come on, I’ll introduce you to Tammy Crawford. She’s the group leader.”

  Angela dogged his heels, sizing Crawford up as they approached. Contrasting the schoolteacher’s tank top, cotton shorts, and lace-up tennis shoes against her own short-sleeved rough-duty shirt, long pants, and sturdy boots, Angela determined they were exact opposites. Crawford was tall, buxom, and fair, with a smile that made fifty percent of her young charges swoon. Short, with the dark complexion and padding of her ancestry, Angela figured, for these kids, her biggest draw was her gun.

  “I’m so pleased to meet you, Agent Dimato,” Crawford said, thrusting out a hand. “Wayne was just telling us how lucky we are that you’re the one who’s going to be showing us around.”

  Angela’s resolve to dislike Crawford thawed under the wattage of the teacher’s smile, and she found herself smiling back. “Canon told me you’re interested in having the kids see some birds.”

  “And to learn something about the Arsenal. I teach biology, but my colleague, Mr. Burton, teaches history.” Crawford gestured toward an older gentleman, who was attempting to corral a trio of rambunctious boys. “We run the summer school program at Commerce City Academy.”

  Angela shot a glance at Wayne. That explained a lot. Maintaining positive relationships with Commerce City was high on the Refuge’s to-do list. No wonder he wanted someone knowledgeable leading the tour.

  Since 1992, when the Rocky Mountain Arsenal National Wildlife Refuge Act was signed, USFW had struggled to maintain a good working relationship with Commerce City. The city wanted more land. The Refuge countered by offering more use. It fit with the primary stated objectives of the Refuge Act, to restore and manage the land, provide a quality wildlife habitat, and implement environmental education programs for urban school children. They’d had already annexed over 917 acres to Commerce City.

  As much as she wanted to hate what they’d done with the land, Angela had to admit that the development of Dick’s Sporting Goods Park was a feather in everyone’s cap. The public-private partnership between Commerce City and Kroenke Sports & Entertainment had resulted in the development of brand new city offices for Commerce City, lots of retail outlets, offices for the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service, and a new Vistors Center for the Rocky Mountain Arsenal Wildlife Refuge. It also included the world’s largest and most state-of-the-art soccer complex in the world, and just a mere 9 miles from downtown Denver.

  Kroenke had spared no expense. They had spent $131 million dollars in construction. Amenities included twenty loge-style luxury suites, a unique open concourse design allowing 360-degree views of the fields, and a FIFA regulation-size grass field with an innovative underground heating and draining system. People came, and they came to visit the Refuge, too.

  Commerce City Academy was the newest additionthe crown jewel in the city’s new educational program. It mattered.

  “I leave you in good hands,” Canon said.

  When he was done saying his goodbyes and had walked away, Angela turned to Crawford. There was no point in putting things off. “I suggest we get started. Why don’t you gather the troops and we’ll head inside.”