She and the sheriff shook hands. “You’re looking a lot better than the last time I saw you,” he said.
“I’m feeling better. Has there been any change in The Major’s condition?”
“Actually, there’s good news.” He shared what he knew and held up crossed fingers. “Baby steps. But thirty-six hours ago we didn’t think he’d live through the night.”
She splayed her hand over her chest. “I’m so glad to hear this.”
During their exchange the Rangers had been standing by. The sheriff introduced her to them now. All took seats around a table and, after explaining to her that the session was being recorded, one of the Rangers took the lead.
“We’ve spoken to the detectives, Ms. Bailey, but this time we’re hearing it straight from you. For our benefit, please start at the beginning, and tell us everything you remember.”
“My story hasn’t deviated from the first time I told it,” she said. “Except for one detail. Well, actually two details. I’m not sure what significance either has.”
Looking interested and mildly surprised, the sheriff clasped his large hands together on the table. “Let’s hear ’em. We’ll determine their significance.”
Her wish was that they would dismiss both as being of no importance. But she didn’t believe they would. Her palms turned damp. “One involves the sequence of events.”
She related how someone had tried opening the powder room door before she heard the gunshot. “Everything happened in rapid succession after that. Because of the meds, the concussion, when I gave my account to the detectives I got the timing mixed up.”
“You only realized this discrepancy later?” the sheriff asked.
“Yes. When I wasn’t so woozy.” If she told them that clarity had come to her during a nightmare they would think she was crazy. “But now I’m certain that someone tried to open that door before the first shot.”
“Must’ve been the assailants.”
“Possibly,” she said, “but they approached from the main room after the gunshot, not before. And they weren’t stealthy. I followed each footstep.”
One of the Rangers said, “You didn’t hear approaching footsteps the first time someone tried the door?”
“No. I wasn’t aware of anyone being there until the latch rattled.”
The same Ranger asked, “Are you suggesting that someone else was inside the house, a third suspect?”
“I’m not suggesting anything. I’m only telling you how I’m remembering it now.”
No one said anything for several moments, then the second Ranger addressed her. “After the crew left, how long were you and The Major there alone before you excused yourself to go to the bathroom?”
“Fifteen or twenty minutes.”
“You stayed in the main room that whole time?”
“Yes. Neither of us left it until I excused myself.”
“So somebody could have come in through a door or window at the back of the house?”
“I suppose.”
“Were lights on in the other rooms?”
“No.” She gave a faint smile. “Our setup required a lot of electricity. We used several circuits. The Major complained how that would run up his next bill. He was teasing, but the crew was conscientious about turning out lights when we were finished.
“As I left the living room and went into the hall, it was very dark.” She told them she had switched on the bathroom light even before shutting the door and remembered turning it off immediately after realizing it would give away her presence.
The sheriff said, “You didn’t see anything suspicious, or off somehow, that would make you think now that somebody was in one of the back rooms?”
“Nothing.”
Kerra wasn’t sure what to make of the look that passed among the three men before the sheriff came back to her. “Kerra, what I’m about to tell you isn’t for disclosure.”