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Seemed likely. How many Wendys could you expect at an off-season dude ranch in one corner of Cottonwood County, Wyoming?
“Besides, I heard one of the deputies, one of them that was collecting evidence, say the blood there on the corner of the table looked to be from Keefe’s hand — his hand putting it there, not his hand bleeding. He probably reached up to where he was bleeding from his head — natural reaction — then started to fall, tried to catch himself...”
Her gaze went unfocused again.
I wanted her to remember things, but not to drown in the speculative strain of what happened to her friend.
“You said earlier that Keefe getting tangled with Suzie Q was what you thought of first, then you said even though it didn’t make sense because... Because what?”
She blinked twice. “Oh, right. It didn’t make sense because Suzie Q wasn’t in the cabin. So it never could have been that way, which just goes to show I wasn’t thinking right even before they said that about him being shot three times. Keefe must’ve let her out before. Unless she got out herself somehow after, though I don’t see how, when the door was closed when I got there. She’s smart, but to close the door after herself...?”
“Where was the dog?”
“Circling the cabin. Seeing her out here was what made me come to his cabin in the first place. It was real early, not dawn yet. I got up to use the bathroom, looked out to check around—”
“Why? Did you hear something?”
She nodded, but then contradicted it. “Not that I was aware of. But you’re not always tuned into that sort of thing when you’ve been asleep. That’s why I got in the habit of checking. Because sometimes when I get up in the night to use the toilet, it’s ’cause something else woke me first.” So she agreed with the concept, but ruled it out for this time. “Spotted a lot of bears and such that way. Also guests going for visits to other cabins,” she added dryly.
I nodded acknowledgment and patched up my interruption. “So, you got up...”
“Used the toilet like I said, then looked out. And there was Suzie Q circling Keefe’s cabin.”
“Did she bark?”
“No. Not a sound.”
I reserved judgment on that. A bark might have been what woke Brenda, without her realizing it.
She went on. “Couldn’t be sure right at first, with the other cabin in between, that it was her.”
“Does Wendy live there?”
“Hah. Her? No. She’s got the main house. Whole thing all to herself this time of year. The center cabin’s used for summer, visiting cooks and such. Empty now. But empty or full, it blocks seeing Keefe’s cabin easy. And it was dark, so Suzie Q was mostly just a shadow moving. But third or fourth pass, I was sure it was her. Way she moved. Threw on some clothes and got out there.”
“Would Keefe put her out during the night?”
“Never. That’s how I knew something was real wrong.”
She was pushing us to accept the dog being out was enough to raise her alarm, along with all sorts of trailing assumptions and conjectures.
But was that true?
“If she got out shortly before you saw her—”
“No. She’d been out a long time. Her coat was cold as ice and she was shivering.”
That matched her description of Keefe’s body temperature.
“Couldn’t know if that was reaction to knowing something happened to Keefe or the cold or exhaustion from going round and round for however long she did — though she can run beside the horses all day every day, so I doubt it was that kind of exhaustion.”
“What’s going on here?”
A voice with authority despite being high and light, turned us all toward the figure approaching from the barn.
CHAPTER FOUR
“They’re here about Keefe, Wendy.” Brenda answered the question without any indication the other woman’s authority had an impact on her.
