Page 44 of Death on Gallows Path

I’m not sure I would have risked that.

We’d had wings for dinner, as we’d recapped what we’d seen. I tried to get an angle to see if she was leaving smudges. Yes, we’d freely used napkins, but still . . .

Clara didn’t stop tapping as she said, “We need to talk to Pammy Swindell.”

“Do you think she’ll stay at the Georgers’ house?”

We’d figured Eckles’ presence there likely confirmed Pammy had not left the Georgers’ house after Donna picked up the dogs.

“Probably.” Clara’s absent tone said that presented no problem.

It did to me. “We can’t go and knock on the front door and demand to talk to her.”

Clara looked up with a combination of surprise and pity. “Of course not. We have to take them a casserole.”

“Casserole,” I repeated.

“Baked spaghetti,” she said firmly. “My mother-in-law was famous for it. It was her mother’s recipe. I’ll make it tonight. Want to help?”

I passed up that invitation in favor of going home so I could video chat with Teague in private . . . and Clara could do the same with Ned, who was also out of town.

Also, as it turned out, to field a call from Kit before Teague’s call.

I could swear she had a bat signal that picked up when Clara and I encountered a crime to dig into.

I was sitting on the floor with my back against the edge of the couch’s seat, using the time waiting for Teague’s call to brush Gracie.

Some collie owners find grooming meditative. Others of us do not.

In response to my hello, Kit asked, “How are you?”

That was weird. She rarely asked that.

“Fine,” I said cautiously.

I snipped a knot of fur from Gracie’s nether regions with round-tipped scissors made for kids or squirmy dogs. She’s good with brushing that resembles petting. Detangling, however, is not in her contract.

“Even with Teague out of town?”

Had I told her that or had her network of spies — in other words, Clara — told her? Surely, she hadn’t picked that fact up by bat signal.

“I miss him, of course, but it’s a coup for him to be invited to this conference.”

I released Gracie with a gesture. She bounced away, shaking herself, then settling by the door with a huff, indicating she was done with me for good.

Through all this, Murphy laid with his backbone against my right leg.

“Yes, it is. He’s made quite the impression on important people.”

“How do you—?”

Ding!

Teague would have known about Damon Swindell’s murder earlier today, called by the department for consultation . . . or to return early.

He would understandably mention there’d been a murder in his jurisdiction. From there it was the law enforcement version of a game of telephone, reaching my relative through her network of contacts.

Does that mean Kit previously shared with her network that she had an interest in North Bend County, Kentucky, and/or Teague O’Donnell?