She began to swing faster so that her feet left the ground. “Make fun of me if you want, but it’s the truth.”

“You’re suggesting Bibi Chamberlain killed her grandfather?”

“I didn’t say that.” Her smile was coy. The expression didn’t suit her face. “I only meant that, whatever happened, Bibi didn’t grieve for the old guy. He probably fell out of his boat, like everyone says. And it was lucky timing for Bibi. What’s that term for when someone dies by getting crushed by a car while they’re changing a tire or knocking an electric radio into a bathtub?”

“Death by misadventure. It’s a legal term that describes a situation where someone does something to contribute to their demise.”

“Like threatening to cut their granddaughter out of their will.”

When I didn’t respond, she laughed. “I’m joking!”

“A few minutes ago, you called Bibi Chamberlain your friend. Now you’re going out of your way to cast aspersions on her. You’re even suggesting she might kill you because you know her secrets.”

“Forgive me for having fun,” she said, swinging high. “I’ve been stuck inside the house with a sick kid all day.”

“In that case, I’ll let you get back to him.”

She leaped off the swing in midair and landed with the agility of a teenager. “Wait! I’m sorry. What else do you want to know? I promise not to be a wiseass.”

I had to consider whether she was worth another question.

“I want to know about Arlo Burch,” I said.

“The eyewitness!”

“What can you tell me about him?”

“He’s sweet and goofy, not to mention easy on the eyes. If he didn’t have such lousy taste in women—anyway, he wasn’t living the high life when it was just him and my dad up here. Then he fell into some easy money, starting with the reward. Arlo’s circumstances changed overnight. And the hill’s did, too.”

“How?”

“He hooked up with those nasty girls. Tiff, or maybe Tori, met Arlo at the Brass Monkey, and they got their claws in him. My dad said it was only a few weeks later that trucks were hauling trailers to the top. Suddenly, the hill was teeming with Dillons.”

“Your father didn’t find that strange? One family taking over a housing development en masse?”

“Bruce Jewett thought they must be gypsies. He tried to scare them off at first by shooting in the woods below the hilltop. As if anyone could ever scare off the Dillons! By then, my dad had no use for Bruce anyway. My mom was half-black, and my father didn’t like it when the fucker started going on about the ‘dindoos.’”

“Dindoos?”

“‘Didn’t do nothings.’ Black people.” The phone beeped in her pocket, but this time she didn’t bother to look at it. “So what are you going to do?”