maybe she wished sheâd been raised here. I couldnât say.â
âIf she was raised in New Mexico, a mother or someone here should be looking for her. According to the APD no one has filed a missing-personâs report.â
âPeople from a happy home donât run away and live on the street,â Lisa said. She had a youthful style, but her work had given her a wise and mature outlook. âMost of them want nothing to do with the people they left behind. Often they are afraid they will be pursued. Itâs unusual for them to choose an image of themselves as younger or as part of a family. They prefer to be painted as part of the circus, or alone, or with animals. I donât know if these girls were Maiaâs real sisters or friends or just people she imagined.â
âWas Maia her real name?â Claire asked.
âI doubt it. Most of the people I meet donât use their real names.â
Claire stared at the seven girls dancing on the screen. There was a shadow in the corner cast by a tree outside the frame of the painting that seemed to be reaching towards the girls. âIn Greek mythology Maia is one of the seven daughters of Atlas and Pleione,â Claire said. âThey were playing in the woods when Orion, the hunter, saw them and became infatuated. He pursued the girls but Zeus saw the sisters were in danger and he turned them into doves who flew away into the sky. They became the constellation Pleiades.â
âI didnât know that,â Lisa said, âbut it wouldnât surprise me if Maia identified with that story. What homeless person wouldnât rather be a star in the sky?â
âDo you know if she had an interest in astronomy?â
âShe never talked about it to me. Maia was very intelligent, but shy. She didnât like to talk about herself. Mostly we talked about Chris, the other people at the shelter, how she spent her days studying in libraries around town, visiting museums, attending public lectures and readings. I was glad I was able to paint her dancing and happy as she might have been. Did you know her well?â
âNot really. I talked to her twice, but I wouldnât say I knew her. I got involved because the police found an illustration stolen from the library in the storage room with Maiaâs body. It was Spiral Rocks, an ancient site in southern Colorado. Did she ever say anything about Spiral Rocks to you?â
Lisa shook her head. âNo. Chris said she died from a heroin overdose. She seemed straight when I saw her, but it doesnât surprise me that she would get on drugs. Many people at Hope Central get there because they abused drugs. Some of them even ask me to paint them the way they feel when they are high. Look at this.â Lisaâs long nails clicked a few keys and another image filled the screen. âThis woman was a friend of Maiaâs. Itâs a tough painting that has been hard to sell.â
A woman with hair streaked the color of cherry Jell-O floated above a river. She had a stoned expression with a smile full of holes. Her body stretched out like smoke as it followed the curves of the river.
âThat looks like Ansia,â Claire said.
âYou know her?â
âZimmerman Library is a mecca for the homeless,â Claire said. âSometimes Ansia hangs out there. She and Maia were friends?â
âYes. They looked out for each other. Would you like me to print out a copy of Maiaâs image for you?â
âPlease. Could I have Ansiaâs, too?â
âNo problem.â
When the images were printed Lisa apologized for the poor quality, but Claire got what she wantedâa face recognizable as an alive and vibrant Maia. âDid you paint her in this room?â she asked.
âYes. I do all my portraits of the homeless here. Itâs convenient for me and for them.â
âDid Maia seem claustrophobic to you?â
âShe might have