“I didn’t know any of them,” she protested.
“You have a good set of eyes and a quick brain,” replied the cop flatly. “You saw.”
Anger flashed through Chena and she struggled to suppress it. “There were a lot of people there. Why aren’t you picking on them?”
“Because all of them have been around long enough to not tell me piss-all.” For the first time he sounded upset. “Did you hear around what Nan Elle is?”
Chena shook her head.
“She’s a Pharmakeus.” The cop leaned forward, pinning her down with his gaze. Chena squirmed, but there was nowhere she could actually go. “It’s an old word. It means poisoner. You will have heard that there’s a dead man in the village. He was poisoned to death, so well we almost didn’t catch it.” He paused to let that sink in. “And you were about to drink what she gave you.”
Chena’s heart thumped so hard, she felt the vibration down in the soles of her feet. No. It couldn’t be true. Sadia would never hand her over to a murderer. The cop was just spinning one out for her so she’d tell him what he wanted to hear. That was all.
The cop kept staring at her. She tightened herself up inside and met his gaze. Just another superior, like on the station, without even alarms and cameras to back him up. He didn’t know anything. He couldn’t know. Just wanted to scare her. Let him try.
The door swung open and Chena just about jumped out of her skin. The cop leaned back with a satisfied smile on his face.
“Hello, Madra,” he said over Chena’s shoulder. “And I imagine this is Mother Trust and Daughter Teal.” He gave the full salute, head, heart, and mouth.
Chena wished the floor would open up so she could drop straight through into the river and drown.
“There,” came Madra’s voice. Chena didn’t want to turn and look. She hunched down in the chair as if she could vanish inside it. “Didn’t that turn out easy?”
“Thank you for finding my daughter, Constable Regan.” Mom stepped forward. Chena’s breath clogged her throat. Mom sounded as if she were wound completely tight. She’d explode all over the place as soon as the witnesses were gone.
“I wish I could say it was on purpose, Sister Trust.” The cop, Regan, gestured at the free chair.
Mom sat without her spine bending an inch. Teal stood next to the chair, gripping its arm with both hands. She glowered at Chena, and Chena shrugged back.
“How should I take that remark, Constable?” asked Mom.
Regan’s long face relaxed, just a little. “Not all that badly,” he said, and Chena felt a little better, until he started explaining to Mom where he had found Chena. Mom listened closely, her forehead furrowing, one deep wrinkle at a time.
When he had finished, and Mom’s forehead couldn’t bunch up any tighter, the cop turned back to Chena.
“So, Niece, you were just about to tell me what you saw?” His eyebrows lifted in innocent inquiry, but there was a challenge in his gaze, as if daring her to lie or leave something out while her mother was watching.
Anger bubbled inside Chena, but there was nothing she could do. She described, as best she could remember, the half dozen people she had seen in line, and the crying baby. He shuffled through his record sheets and occasionally imprinted a marker against a note to refer back to later, but she could tell from the way his face tightened that she wasn’t telling him anything useful.
Good, she thought with sour satisfaction.
The cop was not the only one who didn’t like what she was saying. Teal kept staring at Chena with a smoldering anger Chena couldn’t figure out. What was her bug? It wasn’t like she missed out on anything particularly good. Then again, Teal always figured if Chena didn’t take her along, whatever it was that happened must have been good. Chena sighed inside her head. She’d have to help tell an extra long story later to make it up to her, or she’d be whining at Mom for days.
“Is there anything else we can do for you, Constable?” asked Mom when Chena finished her story. She planted both hands on the chair arms and was getting ready to stand.
The cop frowned at his record sheet. “No, I’m afraid not.” He stood, and so did Mom. Chena managed to push herself to her feet without wincing. Teal took Mom’s hand like a little kid, peering at Chena from behind her with that same glaring anger.
Chena just shrugged at her again, but Teal had already turned away, her chin tilted smugly upward.
They left, with Chena tagging along behind.
“Mom—” she started to say.
But Mom didn’t let her get any further. “I cannot begin to tell you how angry I am with you, Chena Trust.”