Chapter Five

Diana's foot didn'tland as hard on the accelerator on the return trip, but that was only because we were going downhill and gravity satisfied her speed demon.

"Why don't you call Mike and Jennifer. Give them the rundown of what we just heard," she suggested. "Make use of this time."

She was trying to distract me. I bit back the retort that we'd have more time to make use of, if she slowed down, because we'd live longer.

I wasn't entirely sure the NewsMobile's brakes were up to the job of slowing us downhill. Down mountain in this case. Might as well impart updates to our colleagues to make sure the knowledge survived... even if we didn't.

They each answered quickly and said, yes, they had free time at the moment for consulting via video call.

As we talked, I tried to keep the screen on Diana's profile and occasionally on mine. But with the jolts and swerves of our descent, they likely got their share of blurred Wyoming landscape, too.

Hope it didn't make them homesick. Or motion sick.

"The dog didn't bark in the night — so most likely the killer was someone the dog knew," Mike said. "According to Sherlock Holmes, anyway."

"We don't know that the dog didn't bark," I clarified. "We only know Brenda Mankin and Wendy Barlow said they didn't hear it."

"Brenda did say she almost certainly would have heard Suzie Q if she barked," Diana said.

I huh'd acknowledgment that she'd said that, while also conveying that I withheld reliance on her statement.

"The dog could have barked and she didn't hear it. Or the dog might not have barked, because Keefe opened the door for the killer, letting him or her in, while letting the dog out. No reason for the dog to bark then, with Keefe, essentially, vetting the arrival."

"What it comes down to," Diana said, "is we need to supplement Brenda's and Wendy's information on the dog's barking habits before drawing conclusions."

After a beat of agreement, Jennifer spoke up. "Sounds like you're not trusting Brenda, but she said she thought he'd fallen and hit his head and the person who shot him would know that wasn't the case."

I remembered my thought that Brenda needed to express the thoughts in her head more than have them understood, which would fit with her truly being confused. Unless... unless she was playing a part quite well.

"Diana and I reported what she said, with no assessment of her veracity."

"Okay," Jennifer said slowly. "If she knew it wasn't true... misdirection?"

"Exactly. Thinking that talking about him possibly hitting his head makes us think she didn't know anything about the three shots to the back of his head until overhearing a deputy."

"Sounds like Brenda had a lot to say, lots of throwing in possibilities." Mike looked at me as he added, "You've said guilty people do that to confuse matters."

"True."

Jennifer jumped in with, "You also say people will clam up and it sounds like Wendy did that — along with trying to keep Brenda from saying so much."

"Also true."

Diana proclaimed, "A draw."

"So, that gets us nowhere," Jennifer said.

"We shouldn't expect to get anywhere yet. Far too early. We want to concentrate on not getting too far—"

"No worries there," Jennifer muttered.

"—in any one direction because it might be taking us down the wrong path."

"This also might not be an investigation for us," Diana said.

"Why not?" Mike asked immediately.

"There are crimes that we don't investigate," she said dryly. "All the ones the sheriff's department solves just fine without us."

"That sounds like something the sheriff would say."

Jennifer's accurate observation brought a tinge of pink to Diana's cheeks.

She didn't have the easiest time, being loyal to us and being loyal to Russ Conrad. She negotiated that difficult path with amazing calm — even humor — most times.

I started, "And maybe this will be one of those times—"

Mike's surprised, "Why would it be?" sidetracked me from finishing soothing Diana's torn loyalties.

Instead, I said, "Someone shot three times in the head can be a straightforward situation, which is not where we excel."

"We're good at twisty," Jennifer said with relish.

Mike kept to his point. "Yeah, people shot three times in the head after a bar fight might be straightforward. And that's right up the sheriff's department's alley. But a real laidback guy like Keefe, who never harmed anybody in his life, in his own home, away from a lot of people, and with his dog put out of the house?"

Diana cut me a look. What Mike wasn't saying, might not even recognize, was he had an emotional investment in this death investigation.

"It still could be straightforward," I said slowly, "but in case it's not, we should proceed. If we don't, we lose time and information we can never make up."

"Agreed." That came from Diana. Then she added, "As long as we keep in mind that the sheriff's department's not sitting around twiddling its thumbs."

"Yeah, if they did, I wouldn't know I needed to call Aunt Gee." Mike continued with some bitterness, "Even if she is a heck of a lot more close-mouthed since Conrad took over. Okay, Elizabeth, tell us what else you two found out."

Diana immediately slid in an exaggerated, "Of course, Elizabeth will do whatever you say, Mike."

She was playing that card now? Right after I'd smoothed the gap between her loyalties? Was that fair?

Mike laughed. "Yeah, right. Since when?"

"Apparently since you became majority owner. She told Brenda Mankin that when you tell us to get a story, we get it, by gum."

"I love it," he crowed. "Maybe the new station motto."

"I did not say by gum," I corrected with dignity. "And it worked. Do you want to hear the rest of what Brenda Mankin and Wendy Barlow said or do you want to gloat about how I got them to talk."

Jennifer immediately voted. "Hear the rest."

Mike paused. "Can I save some gloating for later?"

"No."

"Fine. Go ahead and tell us the rest. But, Diana, let's talk later, just the two of us."

She chuckled.

I settled for glowering. In the interest of time, I launched immediately into what else was said, wrapping up with, "From what they both said, Keefe operated in slo-mo. That could justifiably drive an employer crazy. So that's at least a whiff of a motive."

"Seemed to be fine with his co-worker," Diana pointed out.

"Yeah, but the employer's paying for his time and if it took him forever to do anything..."

Twin coughs came through the phone.

Diana glanced at me with one eyebrow lifted. "They're saying that's you, Elizabeth. Your reaction. Your need for speed in some instances." Yes, she said it ironically, obliquely covering my reaction to her speed behind the wheel. "But it wasn't necessarily Wendy Barlow's reaction. And I agree. You saw her eyes, all red-rimmed."

"You heard her sloooow-leeeee."

"He'd been working there all his life. Why would he suddenly be too slow now, enough to kill him?" she countered.

"Built up frustration. Couldn't take it anymore."

"Again, I think that's you projecting, Elizabeth. From what we saw out there, both women appeared genuinely saddened." She held up a hand. "Granted, Wendy Barlow was more brusque, but I'm guessing that's her usual style."

I stared at her hand until she returned it to the steering wheel.

"So, what's next, Elizabeth?" Mike asked.

"Depends on who has time for what and when." Thinking things through just ahead of speaking, I said, "I'll leave Diana to handle the story along with Nala, if that's okay—"

"Sure."

"—and stop at the library. Brenda said Keefer spent a lot of time there, checking historical records. I want to find out about this outlaw Keefe thought — or hoped — he was descended from. Then I'll go up to see Mrs. P for what she'll share on Keefer, Elk Rock Ranch, and these two women."

"Not going to get more background before talking to her?" Mike asked.

"No." Though I knew I risked Emmaline Parens finding more teaching moments in our exchange this way — each of which she would use to its fullest. "I can do Internet searches any time, but if I wait too late, I won't get to see Mrs. P today—"

"And this way, after leaving Mrs. P, you can stop by the Circle B for dinner on the way back to town and see Tom and Tamantha, when this otherwise was going to be an evening apart," Diana said.

"Ahh," Mike and Jennifer chorused as if they'd just received a bolt of enlightenment from Buddha himself.

With dignity, I said, "And, you, Diana, are going to plumb your local resources for the views on the setup at Elk Rock Ranch and the dramatis personae of the year-round occupants as well as any cracks in the ranch utopia."

She could do a lot of quiet, unofficial asking around that would never make it to a story we put on-air, but provided valuable background.

"So I have my marching orders," Diana grumbled, only half miffed. "Gossip."

"And send Jennifer and Mike what you shot today."

"Sure."

"I can do some digging," Jennifer said. "Where do you want me to start?"

"Can you with all the work you have for the program? We don't want to exclude you, but—"

"Sure. Besides, I can get the guys to go deeper where need be. They don't mind. Especially since I'm sharing some of the stuff I'm learning."

The guys were fellow computer whizzes Jennifer had formed an online alliance with years ago.

"As long as it doesn't interfere with your school work—"

"And I don't hack. I know, I know."

"What about the guy you're dating?" Mike asked abruptly. "Will he object to you spending time on this?"

Jennifer's eyelids dropped half over her eyes. "We're not really dating."

Why not? almost popped out, but I pulled it back in time.

Jennifer was always a catch in my mind. Now her look had gone sleeker and more relaxed. She looked fitter. Not the kind from the gym, but the kind from life.

She'd spent a lot of time indoors with computers when she lived in Sherman. She still did in Evanston, but some of the computers were farther away. As she told me after a few weeks there, "I live on one end of campus and the program's at the other end. I do a lot of walking."

So if this guy wasn't snatching her up, what was his problem?

Mike didn't back off. "Sure sounded like it."

One of her shoulders moved — half a shrug or a twitch. She said to me, "What do you want first?"

Uh-huh. She could have shouted I don't want to talk about it and it wouldn't have been more obvious. What was that about?

I wanted to know — of course I did — but I'd already come to the conclusion not to pursue it before Diana's warning gaze hit the side of my face.

Instead, I said, "A records search for background on Keefer Dobey. The two women — Brenda and Wendy, too."

"What about this Randall Kenyon?" Mike suggested.

"Good. Yes, him, too, please, Jennifer. Business and personal. See how much of a big shot he really is. Anything you can find on the daughter, Robin, too. And about their relationship if possible."

"Got it."

"If you have time." I might have ruined the effect of that caution when I immediately added, "Also see if you can find out where they're staying. It might be Cody."

"If it's not, I bet it's the Wild Horses BB," Jennifer said.

I wouldn't take that bet. I agreed with her assumption the Kenyons wouldn't go in for the Haber House Hotel — historic, offering its own quirky charm, but not luxury. Their remaining choice in town was the Do Sleep Motel, which prairie dogs wouldn't consider luxury.

"What about me?" Mike asked. "What should I do?"

With him not only in Chicago with a demanding job, but also keeping his hand remotely on the rudder of KWMT, while trying to start a program that might solve a lot of the station's problems long-term, but was tough to staff short-term, his plate threatened to overflow.

"You mean what else should you do in addition to talking to Aunt Gee, getting people hired to fill holes in the staff and to keep Leona from stabbing you the next time she sees you?"

"With her eyes if not a knife," Diana said.

He groaned. "Don't rule out both."

"You could also persuade Diana to finally relinquish this deathtrap laughingly called the NewsMobile—"

"I don't need some state-of-the-art—"

"We're not talking about a mobile production truck—"

Mike jumped in. "Though we really need to replace that ancient truck. I swear it's made out of wood—"

I turned the screen to give him a warning look for getting off topic. "—but a Live truck could combine with new microwave capability—"

Diana came back to her usual refrain. "I'm fine with the NewsMobile."

"You're not. This thing is uncomfortable and—"

"You're uncomfortable. I'm fine."

"Only if you don't have any sensation left in your body. Besides, there's no logical reason for refusing to upgrade. So, that's on your list, too, Mike. Get Diana to accept the new, improved NewsMobile you've offered that won't get her and me killed, leaving you with two more people to replace."

"Great. Give me the hardest job."