“That’s great that you’re worried about Lyme disease and crops, but I have a small child. What if she was with me and you couldn’t see her coming over the tall grass.”

“Deer are skittish. That deer wouldn’t have stood still if a kid was running at it.”

“That doesn’t give me the slightest bit of comfort.”

He glanced down at his boot and said, “I’ll make sure to be more careful.” He rubbed his dog’s head and said, “I’m Tracy Summers, by the way.”

“Tracy?”

“Yep. My parents were kind, but they gave me a bit of a porn star name. My friends call me Summers.”

“I know porn star names. My maiden name was Heather Hornne. Now it’s Heather Bishop, which I like much better.”

I hadn’t said my maiden name in twenty years. That I’d said it three times since we’d been in Hunther was appalling.

“You’re right, Bishop’s better than the other.” His dog was lying down behind the deer, panting, her tongue hanging out of her open mouth, waiting patiently for her next command. A circle of blood haloed the deer’s head. There was a dark sticky hole in its neck. Was Tracy going to leave that puddle of blood on the gravel?

“Nice to meet you,” he said, and walked toward the deer. He grabbed its antlers and yanked. It moved a few inches across the gravel. Rosy stood, ready and excited. Tracy tugged again, and the deer slid another inch.

“Hey,” I said. “Someone said there’s a house down this way with cougars. That true?”

He grunted as he yanked the deer’s head. “Very. Two houses from mine. She has a four-cougar menagerie. Nice lady, but kind of weird, obviously.”

Coming from a guy waiting in his yard for a deer to step over an imaginary line so he can blow its brains out.

“That’s legal? You can buy a cougar?” I said, taking a few steps toward him, my eyes on the smear of bloody gravel.

“Yep. Pretty easy actually. Craigslist. Auctions. Exotic fairs in parking lots, warehouses. Couple hundred bucks for a baby mountain lion.” Tracy Summers stood straight, put his palms on his lower back, and stretched. “They have started slapping some regulations on. I think you need a license now and a site inspection, but most of the folks here would be grandfathered in. It’s probably less paperwork and headache for them to keep those cougars than I had adopting Rosy. Come on, Rosy Posy,” he said, and his dog lifted her ears and wagged her tail hard. Tracy Summers turned back to his work of dragging the deer onto his property.

“You’re gonna throw your back.”

“Nah. I’ll be fine.” He wiped sweat off his forehead, leaving a bloody smear. “Two hundred pounds, max.” His fingers were stained with the deer’s blood.