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“I was here.”

“So was I,” Wolf said.

“He sat fifteen feet from us.”

Nobody spoke.

The Keeper hadn’t watched from the woods.

He hadn’t hidden across the street.

He had entered the Rangers’ home and sat among them.

“Did he pay?” Carson asked.

Saint enlarged the image.

“Cash.”

“What about the cup?” Will asked.

“It went through the dishwasher.”

“Of course it did.”

“Exterior camera,” I said.

Saint switched views again.

The man arrived on foot from the east end of Main Street.

He left in the same direction.

No vehicle appeared near the tavern.

“He parked outside camera range,” Mace said.

“Or someone picked him up,” Wolf added.

“Black truck?” I asked.

Saint searched the footage.

Six minutes after the man left, a black pickup drove through the intersection.

Half the town owned a black truck.

This one had a broken right taillight.

“Can you see the plate?” Carson asked.

“Mud.”

“Save every angle.”

Saint began copying the footage.

Sheriff Tate used his radio to issue a description to his deputies.