Rusty seemed unfazed. “What mischief are you up to out here, Ledge, that you would rather the district attorney not know about? I mean, besides screwing her.” He hitched his chin toward Arden.

She took a lunging step toward him, but Ledge put out a hand to hold her back. “Don’t buy into it.”

“You’re despicable,” she said to Rusty.

“Me? I’m despicable? I’m not the guy cheating on his girlfriend. Speaking of whom, Crystal told me that both of y’all have been asking her all sorts of interesting questions about times gone by.”

Arden felt Ledge tense. “When did you talk to Crystal?”

“Did I fail to mention that? If I’d been invited in for coffee, I would’ve—”

“When did you talk to Crystal?”

“I dropped by on her this morning before coming here.” He leaned toward Ledge and said in an undertone, “One guy to another, just so you’re braced for it, she suspects…” He wagged his index finger between Ledge and Arden.

“You’re lying,” Ledge said. “If you did see Crystal this morning, she didn’t divulge anything to you.”

“No? Then maybe it wasn’t her who told me.” He scratched his temple. “But I could have sworn—”

Ledge reached for the door and went to slam it in Rusty’s face, but Rusty stuck out his foot and caught it with the steel toe of his cowboy boot. He pushed the door back open with such impetus, it banged against the kitchen wall.

Ledge bristled. The two faced off across the threshold, silently daring each other to make the first move. Arden held her breath.

Rusty was the first to capitulate. He relaxed his stance. “The point is,” he said, stressing the words, “it’s been brought to my attention that you two have grown real curious about the Welch’s store burglary and all the bizarre goings-on that took place afterward.

“Now, as the top law officer of the county, I just wondered how come y’all are showing such avid interest. Especially you,” he said, looking directly at Ledge. “Makes me question the smarts you’re reputed to have. Trips to the courthouse, getting copies of investigation reports, all that. It’s peculiar behavior, to say the least. Especially when you obviously have other, more pleasurable pastimes you could be engaging in.”

Neither of them said anything.

“Nothing? No explanation for the amateur sleuthing?” His eyes sawed back and forth between them, landing on Arden. “Does your big sis know about this recent hobby of yours?”

“My father’s disappearance was a significant event in my life. I never got closure. Lisa understands that.”

“Does she? Well, not me. I don’t see that any good can come from dredging up crimes with mothballs on them. That is unless the culprit’s kin turned up with the money he took.” He gave Arden a cold and calculating look. “In fact, the amateur detective work could backfire and prove damaging to a person’s health.”

He paused to let all that sink in, before adding in a lower voice, “If I were you two, I’d leave well enough alone.”

“Is that what you came to say?” Ledge asked.

Rusty nodded. “Pretty much.”

“Well, now that you’ve said it, get off my property.”

Rusty mimed doffing a hat, turned and took several steps, then snapped his fingers and came back around. “Almost forgot. I heard y’all nearly got mauled by some vicious dogs last night. Right outside Crystal’s house. Close call. You were damned lucky to have escaped them.”

Again, neither of them rose to the bait.

“In light of that attack,” Rusty continued, “how’d you greet the news this morning?”

A sense of foreboding spiraled through Arden, but it was Ledge who said, “What news?”

“About Dwayne Hawkins. You remember. That piece of white trash I sent up for dogfighting? He was found dead this morning, slumped over the steering wheel of his pickup. Had a packed bag beside him on the seat. Looked like he was trying to make a quick getaway from that dump he lived in.”

Arden leaned closer to Ledge. He shifted his shoulder to overlap hers.

Rusty continued. “Last night somebody tipped a group of animal rights advocates to Dwayne’s maltreatment of his dogs. They descended en masse on his property at dawn. Got the shock of their lives. Dwayne had met with a bad end, like his sort usually do.”

Arden asked hoarsely, “How did he die?”

“Choke collar.”

She took a swift breath.

Rusty flashed a grin. “I know. Terrible, right? It was one of those with spikes, the kind trainers use to turn their dogs into mean sons of bitches.” He laughed at his play on words.

“The last call on Dwayne’s cell phone only lasted a couple of minutes. They’ll try to trace the number to the caller, but I’m betting they’ll never discover who it was. What I think? Whoever talked to him scared Dwayne into hightailing it, and then ambushed him when he tried to leave.

“The lead detective told me it looked like his killer was waiting for Dwayne in the back seat of his pickup, wrapped that collar around his neck, and squeezed it tight till he died. Said there were deep puncture wounds all around his scrawny neck.” He drew a line around his own.

Arden felt ill. It was all she could do to keep her expression impassive and not reveal her revulsion, not only for the scene he described, but for him. She sensed similar disgust and sheer rage pulsing through Ledge.

“Killed with a tool of his illegal trade. I call that poetic justice.” Rusty gave them a wink and a foxy smile. Again, he acted as though he were about to leave, then paused and held up his index finger.

“Uh, one more thing. It might not go well for you two Nancy Drews if the detectives on Dwayne’s homicide put two and two together. Y’all were attacked by fighting dogs on the same night that a participant in that sport got choked to death. See where I’m going with this?

“If you were of a mind to suggest to the authorities that an unknown third party had put Dwayne up to siccing his dogs on you, I would feel compelled to inform the detectives that shortly after that potentially fatal attack, you were seen in Dwayne’s neck of the woods.”

“Seen by who?” Ledge asked.

Rusty’s eyes glinted. “By someone who wishes to remain anonymous.”