Chapter 1Encinitas, California
The early morning coastal fog had receded enough that the roof on which Raven worked was dry enough to be safe. Although the fog had rolled back from the beach, it left a few curling tendrils here and there. Beneath the thicker layer the Pacific was still gray, but where sunlight caught it the water undulated like a piece of Navajo turquoise rimmed in silver froth.
The salty air was cool, fresh, and invigorating. He heard the occasional call of a gull, counterpoint to the incoming waves as they rushed the shore with a soft shoosh.
Humming a chant to the morning while kneeling on padded knees, he slid another square of terracotta-colored roofing material in place and nailed it down with an electric gun. He didn’t mind the physical labor, but the roof would
