“If anyone can find out, Enid can,” Teeg said, with bravado that came off hollow. She braced for what came next, and he predictably followed up. “Enid’s investigated a murder before.” The couple regarded her skeptically, and she suppressed a scowl.
“Do we need to worry?” Lynn asked. “If wild folk are coming around here, killing each other—do we need to worry?”
And that was another thing to worry about. Enid didn’t expect more violence—this death seemed spontaneous, unplanned, not likely to be repeated. But she hadn’t expected people to worry that it might.
“I don’t think so,” she answered, trying to sound reassuring. “But that’s why we’re looking into it.”
Lynn didn’t seem comforted, and Avery put his arm around her shoulder. “We’ll keep a watch out. You can handle it, if we find anyone nosing around?”
Enid sighed. “Yes, we’ll handle it.”
Avery nodded, satisfied, but Lynn still didn’t look convinced.
“We’re staying down at Bonavista if anyone needs to find us.” Enid turned to go, with Teeg at her shoulder, when Avery called out.
“Wait—”
They turned back.
“Can I ask . . . well . . .”
“Yeah?” Enid prompted.
“We were just wondering when you might let everyone know what you’ve decided about that wreck at Semperfi?”
“You know—I had completely forgotten about that,” Enid lied. “I’ll have to get back to you.” She walked on before the couple could say anything else.
Teeg hesitated before following, and she was afraid he was going to say something to the pair. What, she didn’t quite know. She wanted to yell at them about priorities, which was why she walked off. But Teeg waited until they were out of earshot before talking.
“We haven’t
had a chance to talk about Semperfi, have we? They’re the next house on the path. What’re we going to tell them? They’re going to ask.”
She didn’t care about the house, the original investigation. If the town had had a formal committee, an investigation never would have been called. It was a nothing problem that would take care of itself in the next storm. Common sense should have solved this weeks ago. She probably shouldn’t feel so dismissive, but couldn’t really help it. That young woman’s face, the gaping wound in her neck and chest, occupied her.
“I have to be honest, I’m not really concerned about the house,” she said. “The house will still be there after we’ve done all we can about that young woman.” But not for long, likely . . .
“We were sent about the house, not the body.”
Enid stopped, turned to face him. “All right, let’s talk about the house. What do you think should be done?”
Teeg drew back, mouth open, ready for more arguing. But Enid—hot, sweaty, bitten up by bugs—wasn’t in the mood.
Her partner straightened and marshaled his thoughts. “Erik has to know we’re not likely to decide this in his favor.”
“Of course he does,” she sighed. “But he needed to hear it from someone official. Needed a villain to blame, rather than the folk he has to live with every day. So here we are. That’s why he called for investigators. Not because he thought he had a chance of saving it.”
Teeg’s brow creased as he turned over some thought. “Is that our job, then? To be the villain?”
“Sometimes it is.” Enid started walking again. They had half a dozen more households to talk to and the sun was sinking.
Teeg kept on. “Did you know it was going to be like that before we saw the house?”
“No. But after I saw it, after he couldn’t make a good argument for saving it—we hardly needed to discuss it, did we?”
“Are all your cases like this? Are they all this straightforward?”
“No case is like any other, in my experience. Please remember that.”