and blew her nose. “Thank God. I havena prayed since I was a wee lass, but I been praying so hard.” She blew her nose again. “I’m such a mess.”
She was, too. Makeup streaked, face chapped, hair a wild tangle. Fear and sweat had made a stink even a human could smell.
I said, “As soon as we’re finished here we’ll see about you getting a shower and clean clothes.”
FireWind glanced at me and turned on a tiny recorder. He gave the date, the location, and the names of everyone present. “Can you tell us what you know of the deaths at Melody Horse Farm?”
“You may answer the question, Ms. Doyle,” Patrick Hooper said.
“I got to the house. They told me Stella was dead. I ran downstairs and saw the . . . the bodies,” she whispered. “They were horrible and not natural. Couldna be. So I started a seeing working and saw these . . . these energies. I’ve never seen such in ma life, like black glass, broken, and on fire.”
I held in my surprise. She saw the death and decay just like I had.
“I thought it was a death working, though I had never seen one before. Then the police came and the FBI agent put me in handcuffs and hauled me away.” Her wrists were bruised, the skin red and irritated. Smythe hadn’t been gentle with her.
“Tell me about Stella,” FireWind said. “I understand she was a very special person.”
“You may answer, Ms. Doyle,” Patrick Hooper said.
Catriona cried through several more tissues. Drank most of my water, and then cried some more. As she cried, Catriona talked. And talked. About how wonderful Stella was, how kind, how giving. What a wonderful musician and human being.
On my tablet, I took notes of the names she mentioned and cross-referenced them with my lists, while creating a Catriona timeline. But about fifteen minutes into her monologue, I realized that Catriona was speaking to me as much as to FireWind and her lawyer, and my boss glanced a command to me, one I understood instantly. I realized that I was supposed to be asking questions and clarifying the things Catriona said. I was the token woman to keep Catriona from feeling afraid with male investigators? Oh. To FireWind, token woman was an important designation. There were times when I was an idiot.
I said, “Stella sounds wonderful. A true friend. We’re trying to create a timeline. Can you tell us where you spent the nights prior to the bodies being found? And is there anyone who can corroborate where you were?”
Patrick Hooper nodded that Catriona should answer.
“Both nights after we got back, I slept on Etain’s pull-out sofa with ma Miren. I don’t have an apartment because it seemed stupid to pay rent when we’ll be—we would have been—on the road two hundred days a the year.” Her face crumpled. “I was finally a full-time member of the band. I was going to homeschool Miren on the road instead of leaving her with Etain. Now, I don’t have a place to live. Or a job. And I’m in jail. And—” She stopped and sobbed. “And ma Miren is God knows where.”
FireWind gave me another encouraging nod.
I said, “Your lawyer is working to get her back. For now, do you feel we can talk about when you first got to the farm yesterday?” Catriona nodded, wiped her chapped face again, and sipped the last of the water. “Who was there?” I asked.
A little over an hour later, the door opened and Smythe walked in. If his coloration was an indication, he was livid.
“Where are her restraints?” he spat at us. Over his shoulder he shouted, “Get her restrained and into her cell. And get them out of here.”
The guard darted in.
FireWind stood. He seemed to move slowly, a gliding step, but he somehow ended up across the table and between the guard and Catriona. FireWind’s black hair was down and long and flowing, an easy handle if the guard grabbed him, but FireWind’s shoulders were relaxed. His hands were loose and ready. And he was smiling.
It was a chilling smile, all teeth and bright yellow eyes, a skinwalker leaking power. It was like Occam but bigger, older, and much, much more dangerous. Patrick Hooper stood to one side of Catriona. I took a spot on her other side. I smiled too. I wasn’t a skinwalker with magical powers, but I had learned early on that an unafraid woman was a terrifying thing to