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Her lips curve in a wry smile. “Because whatever this thing is, it’s valuable, and if you say what it is, people here might falsely claim it.”

“Probably not,” I say. “But we need to be extra cautious.”

“We understand,” Tomas says. “We’d like to do whatever we can to help Ellen.”

Nancy hesitates at that, and her gaze drops, just a little, but then she nods and squeezes her husband’s hand. “Yes. Anything you need. She was a dear friend.”

“She didn’t live here, though?”

Nancy shakes her head. “We asked her to. We…” She looks up at me. “I know nothing of how a detective works down south. I realize it is a job, and therefore, you might want only the details that will help you.”

“Just the facts, ma’am,” Tomas says, and we exchange a smile for a joke the other two won’t get.

“Down south, we’re on a schedule,” I say. “People’s taxes pay our salaries, so we need to be efficient. Brutally efficient even. Up here, it’s different. Eric and I can’t get home tonight anyway. As long as the settlement doesn’t mind us setting up our tent nearby, we’re in no rush. Here, I have the luxury of time, and I appreciate that. It gives me a chance to get a better understanding of the victim. In other words, take your time. Anything you want to explain, I’d like to hear.”

“All right. If I go too far off topic, please stop me, but I … I would like you to understand more about us, too. It isn’t as if we saw Ellen struggling to survive and closed our doors to her. We don’t do that.”

“I understand.”

“We’ve helped a few of the wild people. Some in our community disagree with that. We believe in harmony with nature—the spirits of the forest and all that live in it. We hunt, of course. But we don’t interfere with other predators, which includes the wild people. The question we disagree on is whether ‘interference’ includes helping them escape their situation.”

She shifts, getting comfortable, and Tomas pushes blankets forward to let her lean on them. She smiles at him, and it is the smile of a long-married couple, instinctively understanding what the other needs and still able to appreciate these small acts of kindness.

“Ellen and I spoke often of her past,” Nancy says. “I’ve taken her story to the elders, in hopes of convincing those who say we shouldn’t interfere with the wild people. Ellen herself, though, would not speak to the elders. She was … conflicted on this. I’m not sure how much you know about the wild people.”

“We’re helping a woman who left them recently,” I say. “She’s a former Rockton resident. Eric knew her. He grew up there.”

“Oh.” Her eyes widen as she looks at Dalton. “You’re the boy. The one Tyrone spoke of.”

Dalton nods, his jaw set, and Nancy sees that, murmuring, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry. I just remember Tyrone’s stories.”

“Ty has plenty of those,” Dalton says. “Not all of them true, but yeah, I was born out here and … taken to Rockton.”

She rocks back, as if stopping herself from comment. She reaches for her bowl instead and takes a spoonful of stew. Then she stops, frowns, and pulls a shotgun pellet from her mouth.

“Thought you folks didn’t use guns,” Dalton says.

“We don’t,” she says. “But sometimes we still find pellets in the meat. When other settlers injure large game without killing them, those end up in our food.”

“It’s been happening more and more recently,” Tomas mutters. “Someone cracked a tooth just last month.”

I reach to take the pellet, but Nancy tucks it aside, as if she didn’t see me reaching. I hesitate and then withdraw my hand wordlessly.

I resume our conversation. “So we know this woman, Maryanne, and her situation. She left Rockton with a party of would-be settlers, and they were set upon by the hos—wild people. The men were killed. The women were taken.”

“Oh!” Nancy’s hand flies to her mouth, her eyes rounding. “I’m—I’m sorry.”

“That isn’t how they ‘recruit’ around here?” I ask.

“Not Ellen’s group. The wild people actually rescued her. Ellen and her husband were up here mining. They were new at it—it was only their second season. They were crossing a river swollen with spring runoff when they fell. He drowned. She made it to shore, but all their supplies were gone. She was nearly dead when the wild people took her in.”

“And she stayed with them.”

Nancy looks at her husband, as if unsure how much to say.

Tomas makes a face. “That’s the problem. They have these teas. They’re … like ours, but not like ours.”

“I’ve heard about the teas. They— Wait, you said they’re like yours?”


Tags: Kelley Armstrong Rockton Mystery