It was his forehead where all the action was.
 
 Maybe the contrast struck me because I’d become accustomed to Tom and other men in Wyoming who wore cowboy hats when they were in the toughest elements.Their foreheads weren’t going to win any smooth-as-a-baby’s-bottom contests, but they were shielded more than this man’s had been.
 
 Unless he was born with creases deep enough to resemble fissured Wyoming landscapes.They echoed the curve of his eyebrows, making his eyes more intense.They crossed and splintered in the center.And they sent offshoots into his hairline.
 
 I imagined that forehead exerted a powerful effect on his soldiers.I didnotwant to see those creases activated by a frown and he didn’t have the power to put me on latrine duty.
 
 Tom still had the floor.
 
 “Elizabeth, you don’t have a lot of time.Called Wayne Shelton, too.Not right away, though.”
 
 I grimaced at him but didn’t waste time or words wishing to undo what was already done...and predictable for him.
 
 Without giving orders, his voice picked up authority.“Elizabeth’s going to ask you questions, Frank.Wayne Shelton’s a good deputy, but these two and their colleagues are your best chance to figure out this mess.”
 
 Jardos grunted.
 
 I sat on the stump.
 
 I waited.Just long enough to get our breathing in sync.It’s no magic key, but sometimes it helps.
 
 “You know a man’s body was found in your cabin.”
 
 “Yeah.”
 
 “Did you kill him?”
 
 “No.”Not a blink, not a hesitation.“Walked in and there he was.Dead.No question.”
 
 What he presented was a scenario we hadn’t focused on.There were going to be angles and nuances to this...Starting with whether he was telling the truth.
 
 But the first step was to get his account.
 
 “How had he been killed?”
 
 “Shot in the head.Smaller caliber.Head was mostly intact.Blood pool.”
 
 He darted a challenging question in a quick jerk of his gaze toward me.
 
 “So he was killed there, not killed elsewhere and brought to the cabin.”That answered his question.“Did you know him?”
 
 “Ron Sam Preet.”
 
 “Nance.”
 
 He looked at me — really looked for the first time.
 
 I didn’t wait for accolades to roll in.I’d wait a long time.“Why did you disappear, Sergeant?”
 
 “Why do you think?Dead man in my cabin.Couldn’t explain it.Wanted time to figure out how that came to happen.”
 
 There was, of course, another explanation.A more straightforward one.That he was responsible for the death and wanted to hide it and disappear.
 
 Though most in those circumstances would want more distance built into their disappearing act.
 
 “Have you figured it out?”
 
 “No.”Hard to tell how much of his sourness was directed at me and how much at himself.“And now it looks like I won’t have the chance.Why the colonel went to you...”