Enid leaned against the counter and looked over the gathering. A woman stitching a shirt, a couple of men, maybe ten years younger than Jess, whittling and catching the shavings in a bucket at their feet. Seemed to be pieces of driftwood, like what Kellan collected. Jess sat in a chair, sharpening machetes with a handheld whetstone. The scraping noise had been innocuous, like the background calls of birds, until Enid focused on it. Then it grated loudly, making her teeth ache.
“I’m so relieved that we were able to take care of that poor girl’s body. Feels like closure,” Juni said, fidgeting with the bowls, stacking them one way, reversing them, then finally setting them with their fellows on a shelf over the counter. “I suppose you’ll be off soon, then?”
Juni sounded a little more hopeful than she should have. Enid was amused. “I have a few more rocks I’d like to turn over.”
There was a hitch in the metallic scraping. Stitching and whittling paused. Everyone listened close.
Juni said, “I didn’t think . . . that is, it seems like it would be very hard to know what happened.”
“Oh yes,” Enid said. “I’d still like to talk to her people. Neeve’s had the most contact with Ella’s folk but doesn’t seem able to get them a message. If I wait, maybe one will come looking for Ella.” Another one besides Hawk . . .
Jess muttered, “That woman won’t help you at all.”
“And yet,” Enid said, “I’m still looking for a possible murder weapon. Like those, for example.” She nodded at Jess and the handful of blades sitting on the floor by his chair. “Everyone around here uses those, yeah? To cut back vegetation or harvest reeds and things? Like you all were doing the other day when we got here.”
Jess said, “You don’t think any of us did it? We couldn’t have.”
“You saw the body,” Enid said. “You saw the wound. You tell me—you think one of those machetes could have done it?”
Silence answered her, because they had to admit that yes, a blade as long as a forearm could very well have killed the woman.
“Why would we? We didn’t even know her,” Juni said, her voice almost a whisper.
“Maybe someone thought she was sneaking around, that she was a danger somehow, taking something that wasn’t hers. Erik thinks folk from upriver have been coming down here more than anyone knows. Taking things. If one of you saw one of them, got angry—well then, who knows.” She shrugged. “That’s one of the things I have to figure out—why someone would hurt her, when she seemed so harmless. Usually folk hurt each other when they get angry, and if I ask enough questions I might find out why someone was angry at her.”
“It wasn’t us,” Jess said starkly. “I can tell you, it wasn’t us.”
“I’m not accusing. Just thinking out loud. Sorry. I’ll leave you to it—”
Juni said, “It’s Last House. It must be someone at Last House. They knew her, if anyone had cause to be angry—”
“Juni—let it go,” Jess said.
“Yes, right, sorry.” Juni finally finished with the dishes and stepped away from the counter.
Enid smiled thinly. “Sorry to disturb you all this evening. Thank you again for the meal.”
Back at the work house, Teeg was sitting on the steps of the porch, notebook in his lap, writing by the light of the overhead solar lamp. Enid slowed her approach, watching, wondering at her instant suspicion of him. What, exactly, was he writing? Shouldn’t matter, should it?
“Making notes?” Enid asked.
He glanced up. “Starting our report. The one on Semperfi, at least. Might as well. And I suppose we’ll have to say something about the murder, however it works out.”
Sighing, she joined him. Night had fallen, and tiny bugs swarmed, attracted by the light. The gulls were gone, but the frogs at the river seemed even louder. The air was still sticky.
“I still think Last House folk know more than they’re telling,” Teeg threw out.
“All right. Doesn’t mean they’re all murderers.”
“Not all. Just Kellan.”
“Teeg, stop—”
His gaze flared again. He was so sure. “There’s something not right there.” He tapped his pencil on the page, like he wanted to drill a hole in it.
Teeg wasn’t wrong. Kellan was so jumpy, and all of them so wary . . . was it just the usual anxiety at seeing brown uniforms show up at their door, or something more? Then again, just because someone acted guilty didn’t mean they were. At least, not about that.
Teeg added, “I just don’t know how to get at them.”