“I visited this morning with someone who used to own the property behind yours by the creek.”

“Where your rainmaker is working.”

His rainmaker. He grimaced inwardly. “John and Midge Atkinson. They moved into town after the murder, I think. I was hoping to get some answers for you, but...”

“But people don’t want to talk about it, do they?”

“No.”

“Doesn’t that tell you something?” she asked, glancing over at him, her face intent in the glow of the dashboard lights.

“What it tells me is that people don’t like talking about the brutal murder of a young woman who lived near them, someone they knew. I get the impression that Midge Atkinson was a friend of hers.”

Dulcie started. “Midge Atkinson? No wonder the name sounded familiar. An M. Atkinson painted angels on the wall in Angel Beaumont’s bedroom upstairs. Do you know if Midge paints?”

“Could be. All the borders were painted at her house. But if she was a friend, then that could explain why some people don’t want to talk about the murder.”

“Maybe they don’t want to talk because the killer was never caught...and he’s someone in this community and they’re all covering for him.”

Russell shot her a look. “Is that what you think?”

“I’m not the only one who thinks that.” Dulcie regretted the words instantly.

“Someone told you that?” He slowed as her car came into view.

“I’m sorry I said it.”

“But not because it wasn’t true.” He stopped the pickup and looked over at her. “Dulcie, you’re scaring me. If you know something, you have to go to the sheriff. Or talk to my brother Shane. You met him tonight. He’s a deputy sheriff. He’ll help you.” Shane had left just before them for his late shift.

“I don’t know anything, that’s the problem. It’s all speculation.”

He studied her openly in the dashboard light. “You aren’t going to let this go, are you? Then let me help you. I don’t want you to have to do this alone.”

“Thank you. For the offer. For supper. For including me in your family tonight.”

“I’m serious about helping you,” he said.

It was tempting to accept his help. But what could he do? The locals weren’t apt to talk to him any more than they were to her. Russell hadn’t been here long enough that he knew the community’s secrets. Maybe you had to go back five generations for that.

“I know you are serious about helping me and I appreciate that. I just don’t know how you can help me right now.”

“You’re going back to the house tomorrow.”

She nodded. It was all she had.

“Then let me come with you. I’ll scare away the snakes and do whatever you need.”

“And make sure your rainmaker doesn’t come back?”