I trotted past seven cabins, then slowed and searched the trees. “There.” A strip of delicate silk fluttered in the light breeze. “Anarchy?”

“Here.”

“Your husband's name is Anarchy?” asked the deputy.

“His parents were hippies before it was cool.”

We tromped through the woods, following the sound of Anarchy’s voice.

The EMTs stopped short when they saw Buffy. “What happened?”

“We found her.” Not to be cold, but she was beyond their help. They needed to focus on Anarchy. “My husband needs you.”

The older EMT nodded. “What kind of snake?”

“A copperhead,” Anarchy replied.

I swayed.

“They’re not deadly, Ellison.”

“But they can make you very sick. We need to get you to a hospital, sir.”

“I need a statement first,” said the deputy.

I had a statement—Deputy Kincaid was an idiot. I bit my tongue and counted to ten. “I’ll give the statement. Take Anarchy to the hospital. Please.”

Dawn broke as I sat in the clubhouse with Randy and Deputy Kincaid

On the plus side, I’d stopped by the cabin, showered, and put on clothes. Bear was glued to my side, and he didn’t have gas (a huge plus). Also on the plus side, coffee. Lots of coffee.

On the minus side, Buffy was dead. Anarchy was in the hospital. I had to deal with a sheriff’s deputy who’d had his feelings hurt when the crime scene people kicked him off their scene. And somehow, he’d decided that expulsion was my fault.

When the deputy got up to refill his coffee, I whispered to Randy, “For the love of Pete, call Deputy Harden.”

He nodded and disappeared into his office.

Bear watched him go, but stayed with me.

I scratched behind his ears.

Deputy Kincaid resumed his seat and crossed his ankle over his knee. “Let’s go through this again.”

I’d been trained to be polite to people in authority, and it was only that training that kept me from snapping at the man. "I couldn’t sleep, so I stepped out onto the screen porch. I heard someone call my name and ask for help. I woke up my husband. Together, we went into the woods and found Buffy.”

“You found Mr. Landingham's body as well?”

“Yes.”

“Are you familiar with the expression, ‘where there's smoke, there’s fire?’”

“What are you suggesting, Deputy Kincaid?”

“It’s quite a coincidence, you finding two bodies in two days.”

Had I ever found two bodies on the same day? I couldn’t remember. “You do realize my husband is a homicide detective?”

He leaned back in his chair and sipped his coffee. “You told me.”

“He’s working with your sheriff to solve Graham's murder. Call him. Ask him.”

“Nobody calls the sheriff before seven.”