Free Enemy Way by Aimée & David Thurlo Page B

closely,because you haven’t understood what Justine and I have been telling you. I’m talking to you as a police officer now, not as a friend. You can’t stay here, because this is a crime scene. Until we release the house, we can’t allow anyone not working on this crime investigation to wander around in here.”
    “I thought you were already through. People are leaving.”
    “For right now, but we’ll be backto check on details and confirm our findings. What we find out may lead us back to look for something we didn’t think of at first. In the meantime, I can’t risk letting you disturb anything that may possibly furnish us with evidence. I assume that’s the last thing you want to do, too.”
    Wilson stood up slowly. “All right. I’ll go. When you’re really finished here, give me a call. It won’t be pleasant,but I should go through her things, and give away what I can. Her family won’t be coming, and that’s not just because they are traditionalists fearing the chindi. Her mother died of complications from pneumonia about three years ago, and her father is an alcoholic. Nobody’s seen him for many years.”
    “What about sisters and brothers?”
    “She told me once that she had two sisters who lived in California,but she never spoke to them. They had some kind of fight, I think. She wouldn’t talk about it, so I’m not even sure where in California they’re living.”
    “If you find out anything more about her family, let me know.”
    “It’s unlikely. There was no one else she knew very well. Remember that she’s only been at the college for a year. Most of her free time is … was … spent with me,” he corrected,his voice taut. “Neither one of us had any close friends among the staff. We preferred each other’s company.”
    The words made Ella’s chest constrict. She hadn’t had that type of relationship with anyone in years. During her teens years when she’d met Eugene Clah, and in the few years they were married, relationships had been easy. But now … Adults carried too much mental baggage.
    Wilson startedwalking wearily down the drive, then stopped and turned around. “I heard about your mother’s accident. I hope she heals up quickly and can come home soon.”
    Ella nodded once. Wilson had enough problems. She wouldn’t discuss her mother with him now. But his words had served to shift her thoughts to her mother again, and she glanced at her watch. She needed to get back to the hospital soon, butthere was still much for her to do here.
    Together with Justine, Ella canvassed houses in the area. The first two she visited, those closest to Lisa’s, were a disappointment. It was obvious the people there didn’t want to talk to her, but she suspected that it had very little to do with the fact that she was a cop. Although the neighborhood was made up mostly of progressives, The People’s responseto anyone who had been in contact with the dead was so ingrained it was almost instinctive. She had a feeling Justine was coming up against the same wall.
    As she knocked on the door of the next house, a young woman, about twenty and pregnant, came to the door. This time Ella was invited inside. Surprised, Ella accepted and entered the small living room.
    As she looked at the woman, she noticedher light-colored eyes. Her skin was also several shades lighter than Ella’s.
    “My mom was an Anglo,” the woman said, as if reading her mind. “I figured nobody around here was going to talk to you, and I was right. My name’s Lillian Peshlakai. I wanted to talk to you because I’m hoping if I help you, you can also help me.”
    “What is it that you need?” Ella asked cautiously.
    “My husband Michaeland I just moved here from his mother’s home near Holbrook, Arizona. At first I thought it was my imagination, but now I’m sure that it isn’t. I’m originally from Albuquerque. I don’t believe in superstitions, but there’s something really weird about this