Tracks leading somewhere into this rangeland. Had Tobias noticed anything? A stranger passing through, any disturbed ground, anything at all? Tobias rubbed the back of his neck and looked out across his land with the expression of a man making a genuine effort to recollect. He had been in the south pasture since Monday, working the east fence line most of the week.
Hadn't been to the north quarter since at least Sunday. Maybe longer. Couldn't say no one had come through. The creek crossing east of the barn was the natural route, and he hadn't specifically looked for sign there. A pause while Cage considered this.
Then, he would appreciate a look around the property. Go ahead, Tobias replied. Barn first. Probably north loft is warm and out of the wind. Obvious shelter for someone hurt and moving slowly.
He watched them ride to the barn and turned back to his fence post. He heard the loft boards take weight. Heard the horses shift in their stalls. He drove his post and counted his breaths, and listened to the sounds a barn makes with three strangers working through it. And when Cage came back across the yard 20 minutes later, he kept his eyes on the post until the footsteps were 10 ft away.
Nothing there. Thought as much, Tobias said. Anyone who came through without him noticing would have been careful about it. Cage looked at the ranch house. Tobias pointed out it was his home and his private property, and mentioned that a warrant would normally be involved.
A hairline fracture appeared in Cage's pleasantness. Tobias let it sit for a beat, then allowed as how he had nothing to hide, and they went inside. He walked Cage through the kitchen, the front room, the spare room, which smelled of nothing but dust and cold air. The cot stripped to bare ticking, the pitcher empty on the chest. He did not mention the root cellar.
Cage did not raise it. In the kitchen, Cage stopped at the table. He was looking at Marta's photograph. Something happened in Tobias's chest that had no outlet. "Your wife," Cage said.