The Wild Dead (The Bannerless Saga 2)

“Neeve used to go up to their settlement, years ago. Does she travel there anymore? Ever disappear for days at a time?”

“That all ended with the last investigation. She’s stayed here ever since.”

“Right.” Enid squinted uphill, to the woods, and all the answers that seemed to lie in that direction. “Thanks again for putting the pyre together for Ella. If I have any more questions I’ll let you know. Have a better afternoon.”

She started to walk off, when Mart called after her. “You really think you can find out what happened to her?”

Enid said, “We’ll try.”

And Mart nodded with such confidence, such assurance that she could really do this thing, that Enid was sure she’d undermine the uniform, damage the entire authority of investigators if she failed to catch Ella’s killer.

The thought made her weary.

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The trek back down the hill to the marsh and the bridge seemed to get longer every time she made it.

They’d taken care of the body as respectfully as was possible. Enid had spoken to someone who’d known Ella, who knew where she came from, however unsatisfying the talk was. The questions she’d been asking locally hadn’t led to any real answers. How much more time was reasonable to spend on this before it made sense to give up?

When she arrived at Semperfi, Teeg was waiting for her, leaning on his staff, scowling.

“What is it?” she asked.

“They tell you anything new? Did Kellan confess? In a way you’ll listen to?” He spoke lightly, like he was trying to make it sound like a joke, but he bit the words off.

“If Kellan had done it, he never would have told anyone about her body.”

“Then who do you think did it? Erik?”

“Possible.” Or it was someone they hadn’t talked to yet. Someone they wouldn’t expect. “I’m most interested in talking to Hawk, I think.”

“He didn’t even know she was dead.”

“True. But maybe it’s someone like Hawk. Someone from upriver.”

“Would they kill one of their own?”

“People do it all the time; that’s what murder is,” Enid said. She glanced around at the windblown slope where the hill had started climbing from the marsh. The ruined house was just visible. She imagined she could hear the boards creaking ominously. “Why’d you stop here?”

“Anna was waiting for us. Wants to talk to us.”

/> “Oh?”

“They’re up this way.” He set off for the ruin. Enid had hoped she wouldn’t need to look at it ever again.

They met Anna, who stood off a bit from the front door, wringing her hands, brow creased with worry.

“Anna, hola,” Enid said. “What is it?”

“Can you talk to him? I can’t get him to leave it alone. Please, talk to him.”

Then she noticed Erik seated on the ground, slumped against the wall, almost to the edge overlooking the river. If the building collapsed now, it’d pull him down along with it. He was staring out, like he wanted to make sure he saw the moment the whole thing tumbled down the ravine. He held that ax across his lap, gripping it with both hands.

“He’s just been sitting there?” Enid asked. “How long?”

“All day. He won’t let it go,” Anna said. “When he asked for the investigation, I couldn’t sleep; I thought you’d take one look at the place and break up the whole household for letting it get so bad. For trying to keep that thing going. When all you did was tell him to let it go . . . I was so relieved. I just kept thinking, we won’t have to fix it anymore. We won’t have to think about it. But I think you’ve made it worse.”

And this was supposed to be a simple case. “I’m not sure I can say anything to help. I’m the bad guy here.”