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“Is this a member of your crew?” I ask.
When Yolanda hesitates, Dalton’s brow creases. While Yolanda has already indicated that she doesn’t sit around drinking after-work beers with her crew, there are only a couple dozen people here.
“No one else has been reported missing,” she says.
“Okay.”
“Yes, you think I should be able to answer that definitively,” she says, her voice cooling. “And if I can’t, then I’m a cast-iron bitch-boss who doesn’t even recognize members of her owncrew. We have thirty people on the crew. Twenty-two are women. And I have difficulty retaining faces.”
“Ah,” I say. “You’re face-blind.”
Her cheek twitches. “I have mild prosopagnosia, which causes some difficulty with facial recognition. And before you ask, yes, I am absolutely certain this isn’t Penny. We worked together closely enough for me to recognize her. The problem would come with those crew members with whom I have less interaction.”
“Can we get someone in here who can tell us whether she’s a crew member?”
Yolanda hesitates. Then she says, “Of course,” and turns on her heel. A moment later, she’s gone.
“I handled that badly, didn’t I?” I say to Dalton.
“I’d have handled it worse.” He leans against the counter. “My guess is that she’s uncomfortable admitting she has… What did she call it?”
“Prosopagnosia. It’s an inability to recognize faces. More commonly known as face blindness, but I think she prefers not to use that term.”
“And she’d prefer not to admit she has it. Having not admitted it to her crew means she now has to figure out how to explain why she needs someone else to ID our victim.”
“Shit. Okay, I see the issue. Personally, given the choice between people thinking I have a neurological disorder and thinking I just don’t care enough to remember who the hell they are, I’d go with option one, but that’s me.”
“Yep.”
“See,youwould have handled it better.”
He snorts. “You know how I would have handled it.”
“Told her your opinion of the situation and how she should fix it, which no one wants to hear from a near stranger?”
“Yep. There is a time for blunt honesty, and a time when it’s really better for all if I throw you to the lions.”
“Thanks.”
The door opens, and Yolanda strides in, followed by a woman. The newcomer looks Indigenous, with dark eyes, brown skin, spiked blue hair, and a nose ring. She can’t be more than twenty-five.
“This is Kendra,” Yolanda says. “She’s our plumber, and she is pursuing her master’s degree in social work, which satisfied your requirement for someone with mental-health training.”
Yolanda’s tone is brisk and emotionless, but I remember the battle we’d had over this particular stipulation. Yolanda hadn’t seen the need for a mental-health expert, even after ourownmental-health experts explained the issue—thirty people, who’ve never met, thrown into extreme isolation together for three months.
She’d only agreed when we threatened to send our former psychiatrist, Mathias. Five minutes on a call with him, and she changed her mind. Mathias has that effect on people.
Yolanda didn’t see the need for a mental-health professional… and Yolanda doesn’t see the need to admit to her own neurological condition. Knowing the first part, I shouldn’t be surprised about the second. Or vice versa, I suppose.
“Also,” Yolanda continues, “as per your instructions, all crew had to disclose any psychological conditions to Kendra, and mine was included in that.”
Interesting use of the passive voice there. “Mine was included,” not “I included mine.” Was that Émilie’s doing? Or Petra’s? At least it meant someone here knew about Yolanda’s condition.
“I’m not sure how much Yolanda explained—” I begin.
Yolanda cuts in. “Kendra is aware that Penny is missing. Again, as per your instructions, I had already consulted withher to determine whether either Penny or Bruno had any issues that might have led to their disappearance. She is now aware that a body has been found, which is not Penny’s, and that we require her to identify it, if possible.”
“I’m up to speed,” Kendra says with a quarter smile. That smile is strained as she glances toward the covered body and squares her shoulders. “Onward, then?”
