“What a relief. I wanted to stay with you, but the horses needed to be fed and turned out. Then Jepp found me and wanted to know what’s happening. We’ve never had a weekend like this one.”

“You’ve been very kind.” I glanced at Misty, who had her back to us. “We have a little mystery.”

Randy crouched on the floor and rubbed Bear’s face. “Oh?”

“When Misty arrived this morning, the back door was unlocked.”

Randy stopped rubbing and frowned. “I locked it before I went to bed. I made sure, what with a gun thief running around.”

“And a killer,” Misty added.

Randy stood, went to the back door, examined the lock from both sides, then scratched his head. “Maybe I forgot. I’ve had a lot on my mind.”

The poor man. First Graham’s murder And now, Buffy’s. I pushed my plate toward him. “Try a biscuit. They’re delicious.”

“You’re sure?”

“You’re saving my waistline.”

“Don’t mind if I do.” He took a bite and grinned at Misty. “You’re welcome here anytime. Heck, don’t leave. Stay.”

She flushed.

“I mean it,” Randy continued. “The diner in town is for sale. You’d make a huge success of it.”

Misty ducked her head.

“And, you could cater large events here at the club. Think about it. Small town. Slower pace. A great place to raise a family.” His gaze cut to me. “I bet you can find an investor if you need one.”

“If Misty decides to open a restaurant, I’ll be first in line to invest.”

Tears welled in her eyes. “You’re both very kind.”

Randy smiled at her. “We know good cooking and good people when we see them.”

“I’ll think about it.”

I got the feeling when her catering truck was loaded, she’d be glad to see the Fin and Feather in her rearview.

Suddenly restless, I stood. “Thank you for the biscuit, Misty.”

“Will I see you at brunch?”

“I'll be there. Also, I meant it about investing. If you ever decide you want a restaurant, let me know. Here. Kansas City. I don’t care. I’m in.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Jones.

I left Randy and Bear with Misty, walked to Libba’s cabin, and knocked on the door.

“Go away!” Her voice was thick with sleep.

I knocked again. “It’s me.”

“Don’t. Care.”

“Anarchy is in the hospital.”

Two seconds later, the door jerked open. “What?”

“And Buffy Geller is dead.”

“Wait. Back up.” Libba ran her fingers through her messy hair. “What happened to Anarchy?”

“A copperhead.” The snake would feature large in my future nightmares. I had no doubt.

“And he’s in the hospital?”

“Yes.”

She rubbed her eyes. “What happened to Buffy?”

“Stabbed.”

“When?”

“Shortly after four this morning.”

She sighed and opened the door wider. “You’d better come in.”

I hesitated. “Where's Charlie?”

“Fishing.”