Bram ignored him. “I’d really like to take her someplace where we could lock the door, but for now . . . at least we can see anyone coming. Liam, don’t just stand there. Get a fire going. I’m going to get on the two-way radio and call for help. Darby, can you see how badly she’s been hurt?”

Liam slowly moved toward the fireplace.

Bram hesitated a moment before leaving. “I guess I don’t have to say watch your back.” He pulled out his pistol, then sprinted from the room.

I carefully rolled Cookie onto her side and lifted her blouse. The injury was a nasty-looking slice below the ribs. It looked painful, but fortunately not deep. “Liam, do you know where I can find a first-aid kit?”

“Kitchen. I’ll get it.” He left, returning shortly with a respectably large kit. Inside I found bandages and tape, which I used to bind up her injury. After covering her with the throw from the back of the sofa, I trotted to the door we’d just come through, opened it, and called the dogs. I wasn’t sure how much aggression they’d show a knife-and-rock-wielding killer, but they would react. Holly entered without further encouragement, but Maverick stayed outside at a cautious distance.

“Okay, Holly,” I whispered to the wiggling canine. “If you see a bad guy, lick him to death.” By the time I returned to the fireplace, Liam had a decent fire going.

Bram returned, his lips compressed into a straight line, carrying a messenger bag. Behind him was Roy.

“Did you get through on the radio, Bram?” I asked.

“Someone destroyed it,” Roy answered before Bram could speak. “How’s Cookie?”

“She was stabbed, but the bleeding has stopped. I was just about to get ice for her head.” I sent a questioning glance at Bram.

“I’ll come with you to the kitchen.” Bram pulled the brake handle from his belt, placed it into the bag, then dropped the bag next to the sofa. I followed him toward the dining room. Once we were out of earshot, he said, “I found Roy in his office. He said Cookie came by and said no one had shown up to start dinner prep. She was going to look around and see why the staff was AWOL. He went to his office and found the radio destroyed. He thought he heard something, so he jammed a chair against the door.”

“I see some holes in his story.” We entered the kitchen. Everything looked chillingly normal. “When Cookie didn’t return, why didn’t he go looking for her?” I picked up a dish towel, opened the oversized freezer, and filled the towel with ice.

“Agreed.”

“Then again”—I closed the freezer and walked toward the door—“why would Roy go on a murderous rampage on his own ranch?”