One Day in a Small-Town Desert, chapter 8, page 8

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Vata Kılímí crossed the hallway to the linen closet door. She could hear Pí‘oro talking heatedly with an Enforcer. They’d forced their way inside. Vata shook her head disdainfully. The police thought they had to stick their noses into everything, not realizing when they’re not wanted or needed.

She could sense that Pí‘oro was aggravated, but he’d just have to handle the meddling police on his own. Vata had to go help the poor victim in the back yard. It was obvious her husband had not made it that far. Pí‘oro wouldn’t become so agitated very quickly. On the other hand, Vata couldn’t sense anything from the animals anymore. Perhaps the victim had lost consciousness. Perhaps he was dying.

She swung open the closet door and paused briefly to make sure the police weren’t coming around the hallway corner.

The Enforcer snarled, “What’s this?” but didn’t seem to be moving toward the corner.

Vata released the catch and pushed the shelves into the chapel, quietly closing the thin door behind her as she stepped inside.

It was possible the victim was no longer in the back yard, but there was no down side in speedily opening the door if no one was present. The downside in not opening the door could be the loss of a life.

She moved aside and shut the door of shelves, removing her slippers without much thought. Across the chapel stood the blonde girl with her hands on her hips, staring straight back at Vata.

The girl tilted her head back slightly. “What are you up to? Why did you kill the dog? What are you going to do to me?”

The house shook with a heavy thud from the direction of the front door. The blonde spun to look at the chapel wall which backed on the entryway. A bit of dust drifted down from the painted stucco.

Whatever was occurring, Pí‘oro would surely do the necessary action to protect himself, this chapel, and Vata. She had to believe that.

While descending the wood steps to the cool, soft soil, Vata called to the girl.

“Please, dear. I’ll answer your questions in a minute, but could you go open the back door? I fear another victim of the gunman is injured and hiding in the yard.”

The girl didn’t respond, her ears apparently focused with her eyes upon the commotion near the front door.

Vata shuffled toward the hallway in the far corner, but she had a long way to travel if she were to save someone’s life.

The horse exhaled loudly. She would wake soon.

If the victim truly was on Pétíso’s doorstep, Vata would have to sedate her horse again and sacrifice her. If the victim’s injuries were not life-threatening, though, she would need a different animal. Another dog, or maybe a deer. Vata growled softly at herself. Thinking about such things before seeing the victim was a waste.

The girl snapped her gaze upon Vata. “What in Pétíso’s hells is going on around here?”

Almost across the chapel to the blonde and the start of the hallway, Vata implored, “Please, dear, go get the door. I fear it may be urgent.” She shifted to a harsher tone. “Someone may be dying. I can’t walk fast enough. Open the back door!”

As if she finally realized Vata was requesting something from her, the young woman scowled. She shook her head vehemently, her chin-length blonde hair dancing back and forth at random.

“No, no! Zhíno’s probably out there. There’s no way I’m opening the door for him.” She stepped in front of Vata, her jaw firm. “And I can’t let you open the door, either.”

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