Floodgates by Mary Anna Evans

graves? How much land would have been consumed? And what in hell had been so important that it was worth the loss of so many lives?
    “What kind of work did Shelly do after she left school?”
    “She got a job at an engineering firm—the one where Charles works, actually. He’s already made manager there, over the entire engineering department. That was just three years ago, and they’re already talking about promoting him again.”
    Faye thought she detected more than a trace of pride on Nina’s face. Charles didn’t look much older than Nina—mid- to late-thirties, maybe—so he was rather young for such a high-level job, but Faye had gotten the impression he was capable of serious ambition.
    “Anyway, after Shelly started working with Charles, she introduced us. The firm doesn’t keep many archaeologists on staff, but they have a few to help with environmental impact statements and other projects that require an assessment of the cultural environment. She was even thinking about going back to school in civil engineering.”
    “Lord knows it would have paid better.”
    “No kidding. It would have only taken a couple of years, and the company would have paid for it. Shelly said that the two disciplines overlapped a lot. Civil engineers and archaeologists both need to know chemistry and physics and soil science. Shelly had learned a lot about aerial photography as an archaeologist, and she was a wizard at using GIS to put mapping information in order. All that work was a perfect fit with her engineering job. I’ll never get to talk to her about it now, but I know it meant a lot to her to use those skills to save lives after Katrina.”
    Faye had been still staring at the quiet battlefield, but Nina’s words made her whip her head around toward her distraught assistant. “After Katrina? You knew for sure that she was alive after the storm before Jodi told you? And you know where she was and what she was doing?”
    “For a few days, yes. She was doing relief work at Zephyr Field. That’s what I heard. I just told Detective Bienvenu about it. She said there wasn’t anything in the missing persons file about any witnesses seeing Shelly alive during the first days after the storm. That may be. But I know some folks who saw her. They say she worked like a dog during those first days, helping save hundreds of people.”
    “How? Was she in a boat? Or one of the helicopters?”
    “Nope. She was telling the boats and helicopters where to find people, so they could scoop ’em up before they drowned. She knew how to take the GPS information from an emergency cell phone call to figure out where the person was calling from. Then she could use a satellite image to show rescuers just where to go, so they could pluck the caller off a roof or out of the water. Those satellite photos were incredibly important. Street signs aren’t much good when they’re underwater. Or gone. Shelly worked day and night to get that information out to the rescuers.”
    Faye remembered how deep the water got in Chalmette. So much water had rushed through there, and it had done it so fast. She doubted a single street sign had been left standing.
    Talking about Shelly seemed to be helping Nina’s feelings. “She saved a lot of people. That’s what makes the whole thing so damned sad. Her parents…their names were Dan and Aimee and they were such good-hearted people…” Nina swallowed hard. “Her parents drowned in their own attic, because nobody knew for sure where they were. Don’t you know what Shelly asked every rescuer she saw? Everyone she talked to?”
    Of course, Faye knew what Shelly had wanted so desperately to know.
    Did you see my parents out there? Dan and Aimee Broussard? Did any of you see my parents?
    “After the first days, even the hearsay petered out. Charles saw Shelly early on, but he lost track of her. The whole city was hell on earth, and I don’t imagine it was any different for the rescuers. Later, when Shelly