“I saw Martin Barnes,” she said without thinking, still amazed that she had forgotten, especially since the sheriff had asked her who rented the land. Was she getting Martin Barnes in trouble? He was a pleasant, not-too-bright man with a married daughter, Sally, who was Catherine’s age.

Well, Mr. Barnes is old enough to watch out for himself, Catherine decided with a new tartness.

“What was he driving?” Galton asked.

“His blue pickup. I don’t know makes and models. But it was him; he waved at me.”

“Where do you reckon you were when you saw him?”

Catherine thought back. Her morning before she had entered the shack was blurry to her now.

“He was fixing to turn onto the highway, just as I was turning off,” she said. “You know, there are a couple of houses there. One that Jewel Crenna rents. The other one’s empty now.”

“The turn-off to the shack,” Galton observed mildly.

“Yes,” said Catherine and took a deep breath. Despite her every-man-for-himself resolution, she was still dressing things up. She didn’t want to point any fingers.

Galton said intuitively, “Catherine, someone did this. Maybe someone you know.”

“And maybe it was you,” whispered the silence that fell after he spoke.

“How long since you saw Leona?” he asked abruptly.

“Tom and Randall asked me that yesterday,” she said nervously. “I honestly don’t remember.”

Do drag in the word “honestly,” she congratulated herself savagely. By all means.

“If you mean saw her around town,” she rattled on, “I guess a couple of weeks ago in the drugstore. If you mean saw her to speak to, it was a few months ago-about three months-when Tom was going to move into the house in back, Father’s old office. She called me-” Catherine stopped short.

“She called you?” nudged Galton.

“Yes,” Catherine said slowly. “It was really kind of strange. Miss Gaites said she had heard that someone was moving into the old office, and she knew there were some things in there that Jerry Selforth hadn’t wanted to buy. She wanted to know if I needed help moving them.”