“There’s one more, and it’s a wretched friggin’ noise.” He toggled between windows, pressed “play,” and winced at the sound that emanated from the speakers. It was a high, harsh squawk, nothing like the loon. It reminded me of failing brakes on an old car, or the protesting screech of an ancient screen door. “What is that one?” Renee said, grimacing. “An undesirable,” he said, turning it off. “Which makes me think maybe the point of the system is to scare birds away. People like to have loons around, but not grackles.” I stared at him, feeling an ice-water sensation slide down my spine.
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