Irene heaved a deep breath, not quite a sigh.  She brushed a stray lock of hair back and over her ear, regarding Sam.  "It's just...  I think you heard how he said I'd been a suspect at some point in the 'investigation,'" she said.  "A good portion of the people who might have information are the same ones who pointed their fingers at me and lied about what they knew about me.  The only people whe didn't treat me like a plague are in the Saguaro, Sam.  Dressing down in civilian clothes, a shiny badge at my hip is not going to turn small minds around.  If anything, it's going to make them consider you under my influence and as 'guilty' as me.  You won't get any answers.  You might not no matter what, though."  She walked two steps further and halted, turning her back to the street to look at Sam.  "I don't like being reminded of that time.  I'd rather just ride out and look for that greasy bastard...."<br/><br/>She did sigh, now.  "Let's make this damned drawing.  But, then we'll go back to my room and you can make me forget the past.  But, I think you should take the ride...probably without me; maybe see if the Marshal will back you up or his deputy.  I think I wouldn't be a help at all."