“Then he's found the killer.”

“Not necessarily. The gun could have been planted.”

“Planted?” She frowned. “Who would do that” And why?”

“Someone might have put the gun in the cabin to shift the focus from the real killer.” I glanced at the yellow tape. “Do you have a theory? Who killed Graham?”

Sumner stared at her feet. “I can’t say.”

“Can't or won't?”

Her cheeks flushed. “I can't put a friend in your husband’s cross-hairs.”

“I thought you wanted justice.” If she meant that, she’d share her suspicions.

“I do.” She joined me in staring at the yellow tape on the door. “But Buffy has been very kind”.

Did that mean she thought Bill had killed Graham?

She straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin. “The deputy moved my suitcase to a room in the main clubhouse. I think I'll head that way. I might feel better if I showered.” She stepped away from the door, stepped onto the path, and turned her back on me.

“Let me know if you need company.”

She paused. “That’s very kind of you. Thank you.”

I watched her walk away.

“Psst.” The whisper came from behind a bush.

My shoulders tightened. “Who’s there?”

“Wait a second.”

Wait? Wait until Sumner was gone and whoever was hiding could shoot me without a witness? I trotted after Sumner, but she was already out of sight.

“Ellison, hold up.” Liz emerged from behind the bush with her hands held high.

“What are you doing? You scared me to death.”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

“What were you doing back there?”

She smoothed her peasant dress. “I wasn’t eavesdropping. I promise. I didn’t want to see Sumner. I don’t know what to say to her.”

“You’re sorry for her loss.” Sarcasm dripped heavy from my voice.

“I’m not sorry Graham is dead. He was a horrible man.”

“You can be sorry that Sumner lost her husband.”

“You’re right. I should do that.” She made offering sympathy sound worse than wading through a pit of vipers.

“But?”

“I will. I will.” She rubbed her fingers across her lips.

“But?”

“Fine,” she huffed. “I never much liked her.”

We were on the same page, but Sumner was obviously grieving. And kindness was always a good thing. “I’m still not clear on why you’re hiding in the bushes.”

“I told you I didn’t want Sumner to see me.”

“I get that. But why are you here?”

“I came to find you. To see if you'd drink wine with me.”

“Yes. A thousand times, yes.”

“Let’s go.” She linked her arm with mine, and we walked to her cabin, which was exactly like the one I shared with Anarchy. Except, the air-conditioner allowed for conversation.

“White?” She opened the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle.

“Please.”