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orders. “I heard he drowned and was found right there on the property. Is that true?”
    â€œActually, we’re not sure what happened just yet.” Elise sighed and resigned herself to repeating the story one more time, a story which was rapidly becoming tiresome. “It did look that way when he was found, but we won’t know the exact cause of death until the medical examiner is finished with the autopsy.”
    Miranda Rollins cocked an eyebrow. “I thought they only did an autopsy when the circumstances were questionable—and not accidental.”
    â€œI’m not sure about that, but there were some inconsistencies,” Elise admitted, trying to skirt the issue.
    â€œWhat kind of inconsistencies?” Tina Babcock asked. It was an innocent enough question, but it had every woman at the table perking up and tuning in.
    â€œIt looked as if he may have hit his head on something before going into the water.”
    â€œLooked like he hit his head on something? Or someone bashed him on the head with something?” Miranda asked with a smirk.
    â€œGeez, Miranda.” C.C. whipped around and gave the voluptuous blonde an evil eye. “What the hell kind of question is that? Elise loses a family member and you’re looking for ghoulish juice to spread around town?”
    â€œI’m just saying.” Miranda sat back and folded her arms over her ample chest. “Besides, that kind of ghoulish juice is already out there and being spread around without my help.”
    C.C. glowered at the woman. “Yeah? Well, how about we don’t hitch ourselves to the gossip bandwagon just yet.”
    Elise put up a hand in the direction of both women. “Ladies, ladies—and I do use the term loosely—let’s not come to blows right here in the restaurant, okay?”
    The waitress picked that moment to come back to the table with their drink orders, and nobody said a word while she handed them out.
    Elise jumped back in the moment the girl walked away. “Okay, I know there are all sorts of rumors flying around town about Uncle Edmond’s death, but I think C.C. is right. I don’t want to add to the conjecture. In any case, I prefer to wait until the ME makes a ruling.”
    C.C. made a squeamish face. “And I think that’s really all the talk about death I want to hear for one evening. Can’t we just have a nice dinner and gossip about fun stuff? Like what kind of gaudy mess Deana Wilkinson will dream up to torture her bridesmaids with on her wedding day?”
    Elise laughed along with the rest of the women but was secretly relieved when the conversation moved on. There would be a whole lot more talk if the ME ruled her uncle’s death anything other than accidental. With the mayor’s daughter getting married at Lodge Merlot next weekend, gaudy mess or not, the negative publicity of a homicide would be devastating. She didn’t even want to think about what that would mean for her family or River Bend, but she knew it wouldn’t be good.
    The rest of dinner passed with great food and pleasant conversation, the subject of Edmond’s demise forgotten, at least for the mo-
ment. The girls walked down the street and through the door at the Dew Drop Inn at twenty after eight. They were seated with drinks in their hands and tequila poppers on the table ten minutes after that.
    The band was already playing their first set of the night and C.C. had to shout over the music to be heard. “Here’s to a night out with good friends.” She banged her shot glass on the table and downed her popper with the toast. Grimacing, she licked her lips and declared, “We so need to do this more often, girls.”
    â€œAmen, sista!” Miranda called out, as in turn they each banged their glasses on the table, downing the first shots of the evening.
    â€œAck!” Elise made a face and chased her popper with a gulp of her beer, as if