20 Quotes by Cynthia Robinson

It was then that she saw the curl. A lovely, shiny curl of hair the color of coral tea roses that wrapped itself around twigs and weeds, and then disappeared beneath an overgrown forsythia. So very Pre-Raphaelite!Beatrice reached to touch the curl, brushing the weeds aside. Nothing could have prepared her for the image of the peacock. Suddenly, there it was: tail-feathers fully unfurled, luminous blues and greens shimmering between blades of grass.

Two long, curved feathers, one crossed over the other, stripes of creamy beige and brown blending into the grass flattened by the girl’s head. From an owl—no mistaking the comb-like flutings along the outer edge. “Fimbriae”—Jes could almost hear her father—“so its flight will be silent.

He’d been so sure he’d never cheat, contemptuous of friends and colleagues who risked perfectly good marriages because they couldn’t keep their pants zipped. Until that night at the new pub across from the courthouse, when Detective Jesca Ashton had grinned at him from down the bar, hair waving to her waist, China-doll teeth glinting in the dim light. When he was young he’d had a thing for long hair.

Jes looked toward the house. Nice back porch. Perfect for Saturday morning brunch and the New York Times in matching spa robes. No thanks. Just the sex, please.

The Amber girl had made him late. Stumbling on her under the tree, nearly falling on her beauty. Eye-tipped blue feathers twining her wrist, Waldo had bowed, kissed the ground—the all-knowing peacock. Friend of the angels, his mother had said, their messenger; Amber was their seeing stone.

When his mother first came back to earth she’d been a sparrow; Waldo had fed her—stale bits of scavenged cereal, through the wire and bars on his window. Now she was an owl.

The chances of a she-perp were pretty minimal; in cases like this one, women were exponentially more likely to be the victims. Which was not exactly news. But there were so many more ways now for the creeps to identify and pursue targets, just being a girl constituted a significant risk factor.

Truth never changes. Truth always sets people free.

As time passed on, got to hear some players who were straight up funky, not just jazz. Nat Adderley, for instance - he's a funky trumpet player, so he was my man.