husband doesn’t know about the commune years,” Occam said, sounding more his human self.
“If she changed her name there might be real good reasons why,” T. Laine said. “Privacy reasons.”
Jo said, “I’ve tracked the name change paperwork . . .” Tapping on the keyboard increased in speed. “She was born in Florida, Union County. And that leads me to check the Florida system aaaand . . . Yes! She has a juvie record under the name Elizabeth R. Alcock. Sealed. Hang on.” Her fingers flew. Files appeared on the screen and were just as quickly removed. “Yeah. Got you. She came from the middle of bumfu—fart nowhere. Family on welfare and food stamps.” She typed furiously, files flashing onto the screens.
“About six months before she was remanded into the system, there was a death in the area. A schoolteacher was shot and killed. Aaaaand yes, she was in his classes. Looks like someone tried to hush up reports that some of the kids had been abused.”
JoJo looked at FireWind. “There were complaints from social services that she should never have been charged, and should certainly never have been remanded into the juvie system.” JoJo leaned away from her electronics and pushed a loose braid back from her eyes. “She got a bad deal in court and even worse in juvie. There are reports . . .” Jo stopped and started under a different tack. “When she changed her name, she did it right. She’s probably still running from something. Privacy protocols should be followed. Sir.”
“We’ll approach her carefully, Jones. Quietly,” FireWind said. “When will Margot Racer and LaFleur be back from Chattanooga?”
“They’re halfway back now,” JoJo said. “They wrapped this morning.”
“Mmmm,” FireWind mused. “Divert them to Racine’s address. Ingram and I will meet them in Kingston.”
“Sending her address and the husband’s business address to your cells,” Jo said. “I’ll forward her contact info and cell as soon as I have it.”
I went to gather my things, knowing that FireWind had chosen me because of my background. Because I’d be the one to bond with a woman who killed her abuser, if that was possible at all.
* * *
* * *
As FireWind drove I studied up on Kingston, which was close enough to Knoxville to qualify as a bedroom community of the larger city. Tennessee was a long narrow state, and most of it was rich with water resources, with rivers and reservoirs created by dams and hydroelectric plants. Yet large swaths of the state were powered by coal. The Clinch River and the Emory River met in Roane County, practically in downtown Kingston, the water resources managed by dams. The farmland was lush, the mean income was somewhere in the midrange of the state, and the area’s power was provided by a huge coal power plant built in 1955. When I told that to FireWind he asked mildly, “And all this is important why?”
“None of it would matter to the case at all, except Racine Alcock, aka Cadence Blue Thompkins Merriweather—and that’s a mouthful—her husband’s family benefited from the Tennessee Valley Authority and the coal-fired power plants from the outset. He has a trust fund that makes my eyes bug out of my head. He has access to fully ten times the county’s annual mean income each year. His family contributes to local politics and gives heavily to charity.”
“And?” he asked with exquisite patience.
“We can’t just bulldoze our way in there and expect no pushback. Local law enforcement will side with the Merriweathers, who likely support both sides of any campaign.”
“You and the other members of Unit Eighteen seem to feel that I am unfamiliar with social graces and appropriate methods to approach a wary witness or possible suspect.” His lips lifted slightly. “I assume that is because when I accepted the position over the eastern seaboard, I was less than elegant upon my approach to the unit.”
“Less than elegant?” I let my question settle on the air as I thought about my answer. “You’ve been rude more than once and bossy more than once, and you’ve stuck your nose where it doesn’t belong more than once, but I don’t necessarily think you’re obnoxious by nature, stupid, or trying to tick us off.”
FireWind’s eyebrows rose, black as raven’s wings. Amused, still patient, he asked, “No?”
I frowned, putting things together, things he had said, things that had been going on and that I hadn’t paid much attention to. “I think . . . I think you’ve been trying to integrate us