“It’s notgreat.” The words spilled out of Saga.
“You two don’t get along.”
“We get along fine… In the sense that I manage to survive her company.” Saga took a few paces from the door, twisting her hands together. “That sounds awful. I’m not trying to be awful.” Saga now found herself on the other side of the spectrum, wishing she couldstoptalking. “But it’s a funeral, and people will be looking for comfort, not an itemized list of everything my grandmother owned.”
“Your mother is greedy?”
Saga shook her head. “Barrister. She believes funerals should focus on settling assets and the lives left behind rather than wasted on sentimentality over an unoccupied corpse.”
Avery winced.
“Her words,” Saga clarified, as her pacing became much smaller, confined to just two steps in one direction before she shifted on her heel and walked two steps in the other.
“Pleasant woman,” deadpanned Avery.
“All the warmth of Antarctica, neatly packaged into one human! It would be impressive if I wasn’t too occupied with trying to minimize anything she might criticize. I’m told I take after my dad. Often. By her. It’s never a compliment.” Saga immediately stopped pacing and took in Avery as if she was truly seeing her for the first time since inviting her inside. “Did you need something?”
“I’m afraid I do. But I wanted to check on you first—see how you were doing.”
“What is it?” The words came too quickly, too desperate for something to occupy her so she wouldn’t have to sit with her grief.
“I need a favor for the case.”
Saga’s eyes narrowed. She’d known the woman barely three days, yet she could tell this behavior was out of character. When Avery usually asked a question it was direct and specific; this was vague and leading. “What kind of favor?”
“I need an appointment…” Avery sighed and added. “With Iona.”
The anxiety in Saga’s chest turned to lead and dropped heavily into her stomach. “Yourex?”
“I don’t know what that means,” Avery admitted. “From the Latin, ‘out of’ or ‘from within’—these do not help me decipher its meaning. But I can assure you, she’s notmyanything.”
“Esteri made it very clear you two have some kind of history.”
“Thatwe do have,” Avery groused.
“Romantic?” Saga wasn’t sure why it mattered, nor was she prepared to investigate the insistence within her that it did.
“I do not believe Iona is capable of that particular inclination.”
“Sexual, then?”
A pink flush across Avery’s pale face was all the answer Saga needed.
“Right.” Saga moved toward the kitchen. “I’m sorry, I can’t help you, Avery.” She wasn’t about to offer tea, but damn it, she needed some.
“Why not?”
“Because it feels weird,” Saga threw back. “What would I even say?”
“You wouldn’t have to say anything.” Avery followed after her. “I’d be with you. I’d start my questioning before you had to do anything.”
Saga caught sight of the Brigid statue and felt ashamed for refusing to help. “Why can’t you just go without me?” She turned away from both Brigid and Avery to switch on the electric kettle and assuage the rising guilt.
“Because she won’t seeme.You heard Essi,Ihaven’t been wronged.”
“No, if anything, it sounds like you did the wronging.” Saga wished she hadn’t opened her big, dumb mouth as her words hung in the silence that followed.
“You’re upset about the other day,” Avery concluded softly.
