"Are you sure, ma'am?" Ken asked.
"Yes." The woman nodded firmly. "They headed… um… that way."
"That way?" Ken repeated. "You mean west?"
"I don't know my directions, kid." She shrugged before pointing toward the road outside. "That way."
"So west." Ken nodded slowly. "Got it."
"Who are we talking about?" I asked while walking closer.
"I asked her about the people who came here the day Jelda was murdered," Ken explained. "Since this tavern barely gets visitors, she remembered most of them pretty clearly."
I looked toward the old woman. "Whoever they were, they had a carriage, right?"
Ken blinked at me. "How'd you know?"
"Jelda's shoes had mud on them," I explained. "Not her clothes. Not her skirt. Just the shoes. That means they probably transported her carefully instead of dragging her around outside. A carriage makes the most sense."
I crossed my arms while thinking it through.
