On Friday morning, the story about the flamingos finally broke in L.A. County. Miss Martha’s house was shown on television swarmed with reporters, wildlife ...

Two days passed as I remained at home, eagerly anticipating the publication of the article at the week’s end. In my free time, I ...

Later that day, I returned to the newspaper’s office; we agreed to meet in person to discuss my story. The other employees had the ...

After crying for an hour, I calmed down to pay the technicians and drove home. My heart still ached the rest of the afternoon ...

When I left the office, I spent the day driving and shopping around my Los Angeles neighborhood to forget everything Miss Billings told me. ...

“W-What is this?” I stuttered. “Louis is not the man he appears to be, I’m afraid.” Miss Billings sighed. “He’s done this before with ...

The weekend flew by, and before I knew it, Monday had arrived. In spite of the break, I was not well rested. Despite the ...

After Miss Martha finished her story, I stared at her in disbelief, unable to think of anything to say. Louis put his hand on ...

“Several weeks ago,” Miss Martha began, “The Natural History Museum of Los Angeles County’s Ornithology Department contacted me to investigate a suspicious black-market bidding ...

The sudden sight of the flamingo caused me to hyperventilate, and I lost consciousness. When I came to, I was lying on the living ...