“Sorry, pal,” Left Guy said, smirking. “We saw probably half a dozen people out here in the last couple of hours. And there’s more.” He nodded behind us, and we turned to see a family of four hiking our way. Mom, Dad, one child about ten, another maybe thirteen.

The Guys left, and we exchanged greetings with the family, who Rafe knew from the school and I sort of knew from the library. We wished them good luck with their mushroom hunting and they headed into the woods, in the direction opposite Ryan’s cabin.

I watched them go. Troubling thoughts tumbled around in my head. “If there are this many people out here now . . .”

Just then, a whispered voice came from behind a scrubby clump of cedars. “Are they gone?”

Rafe and I turned and saw Ryan. I looked left and right. “All clear,” I said. “But it might not be in five minutes.”

“Yeah, I know.” Ryan laughed, but it wasn’t a very good laugh. More like the worst ever. “Turns out I’m trying to hide in the county’s prime morel mushroom hunting grounds. Who knew?”

I glanced at Rafe, Mr. Lifelong Resident Except for College. He shrugged. “Morels aren’t my thing.”

“We’ll find you a new spot,” I said, although I had no clue how to go about doing so. “Most of the mushroom traffic is probably weekend, right? Get through the rest of today and you’ll be fine, because we’ll have a new place for you by Friday. Or maybe . . .” I paused, then forged ahead. “Or maybe we’ll have found Pug’s killer by then. We’re getting closer.”

“Yeah?”

The question itself was hopeful, but his slack body language suggested otherwise.

“We’re eliminating suspects,” I said confidently. “Skyler Ellison was out of town. And Keegan only knew about Conti because of a required course in college.”

His brow furrowed. “Why would—”

“Never mind,” I cut in. “What it means is we’re sure Keegan is in the clear. That leaves three, and if we eliminate one a day, we’ll figure out the killer before Thursday.”

It all sounded weak, even to my own ears, and I didn’t dare look at Rafe because I knew his disbelief would be obvious. The only option was to keep Ryan’s attention on me by going on as if I knew what I was talking about.

“So,” I said easily, “we’re down to three. Let’s review, okay?” I ticked them off on my fingers and talked about Charlie Seller, Ian Breece, and John Pinnock. “We have ideas for looking into all of them,” I said. “But if you think of any—”

“Someone’s coming,” Rafe said, tilting his head in the direction of the road. “Here.” He handed Ryan the bag of groceries and did the shoulder-clasp thing. “Hang in there, bud, okay?”