Vicious Memories

Chapter 20

The time had come to learn more about the people I'd chosen to live with.

The morning felt surreal, the texture of the light fascinating. It washed out colors, blending everything together. A bank of pristine white clouds began rolling in from the west. People already shuffled around the clearing, leaving the scent of morning dew and disturbed grass in their wake.

"Good morning, Detective Shelter."

"Oh no," I groaned. "Don't tell me Cooper is spreading that around already."

Bev laughed, her braid shaking as her chest rose and fell. "No, don't worry, I'm pretty sure he only told half the village in the caves this morning." She put a hand on my shoulder, leaving it there for a couple of long seconds. "Teasing each other is a sign of affection around here."

I glanced down at her hand, my heartbeat quickening, suddenly uncomfortable. She took it away with a smile and I tried not to show how flustered I was. As I racked my brain, I realized that I hadn't been touched with casual affection, even friendliness, since Jessica had died.

"You're a little sluggish in the morning," Bev said, bailing me out of the moment.

"I suppose I am. You aren't, though."

"We wake up this early every day. You get used to it."

We resumed walking, our strides falling in sync with surprising ease. In the center of the village a dozen people had already loaded their plates with fruit and cured meat.

"You're quite the ladder jumper," Bev observed. "Twenty-four hours ago I brought you to Gabriel so he could put you on the farm detail, and now you're leading the murder investigation."

"Arun is leading the investigation," I said carefully.

"Ah, yes, of course. He doesn't seem to like you very much, does he?"

"Nope. Sometimes I just want to slap him right in the fa—" I trailed off, looking left and right to see if anyone had overheard.

"Don't worry," Bev said, angling to the right toward a group of villagers. She turned around to keep talking, backpedaling through the clearing. "I won't tell him you said that. But sometimes I want to slap him right in the face, too."

I laughed, watching her go, feeling a definite uptick in my mood even as I considered her words. I supposed that even in a society as well run as this one there were always going to be people who had their own dislikes, disagreements, and differences of opinion. There was no law that said everyone here had to like each other.

Cooper, Arun, and I were in charge of the first round of interviews with the villagers.

Gabriel had furnished each of us with a notebook and pen for the job. Our goal was to establish a basic sense of timelines, alibis, and possible motives from everyone we spoke to. We split the village into three groupings, one for each of us, and would review the notes together later.

From the way we had to formally request the notebooks I gathered that there weren't many available. Frowning down at the red-covered spiral journal in my hand, I though about how much paper it contained, how unbelievably versatile and integral a tool it was in any activity. I hadn't considered paper a scarce and valuable resource before, but now I was convinced that Gabriel would have traded all the jewelry on the island for another set of notebooks, or a good map. It's strange what materials are considered precious when you have to fend for yourself.

"Alright, Ollie?" Cooper asked, waving at me with the leather journal in his hand. "You're late. Sleep is for wankers."

"Wankers," I said. "Right. And I'm perfectly on time, thanks."