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way to contact Denver?”
    â€œActually, he phoned last night before you showed up, Martha.”
    â€œWhat?” Lucy and I both spoke at the same time.
    â€œHe heard about the shooting on the nightly news. He wants to see me.”
    So Denver is alive! What could he want with Birdie? “Did he say why?”
    â€œHe just said we have to talk about something Russell had that didn’t belong to him. Something he wants back, but he wasn’t specific. I told him I’d see him at the funeral.” She stood stiffly and excused herself to visit the restroom.
    Why did Birdie seem so reluctant to talk about Denver?
    As soon as she left the kitchen, Lucy whispered, “I wonder if she’s still in love with him.”
    I lowered my voice and leaned toward Lucy. “What I’d like to know even more is how far he’d go to get something back from Russell. Until we know if he was involved in the murder, we’ve got to protect Birdie.”
    â€œDenver’s too old to be the killer.”
    â€œThat doesn’t mean he wasn’t involved in some way. Meanwhile, a guy fitting the description of the bank robber skulked outside Birdie’s house the same day of Russell’s murder. She’s not safe here.”

C HAPTER 10
    Arthur and I stayed at Birdie’s another day, waiting for the coroner to release Russell’s body. That night she received another phone call from her friend Rainbow. While she talked, I went to my room and changed into my pajamas. When I returned to the living room, Birdie was poring over her photo album.
    â€œTaking a trip down memory lane?”
    She looked up; a wistful smile painted her face. “Yes. Rainbow reminded me about the time the goats got loose in our vegetable garden. We screamed for help as we tried to chase them away. Denver came running and slipped in a huge mud puddle. He was covered in goo. I laughed at him so hard, he picked me up in his arms and set me down in the puddle. By the time more help arrived, the three of us were slinging fists full of the stuff at each other. Everyone else joined in the mud fight. When we were done, it dripped from our clothes, our hair, everything. Afterward, we all went skinny dipping.”
    â€œWhat happened to the goats?”
    She laughed. “They got disgusted and returned to their corral all by themselves.”
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    Around ten that evening we said good night and Birdie went to her bedroom. I turned off all the lights and retired to the guest room. Arthur settled on the floor next to my bed. Fifteen minutes later, he suddenly lifted his head, looked at the window, and began growling deep in his throat.
    I propped myself on my elbow and listened. Footsteps crunched through the gravel path leading to the backyard.
    Heart pounding, I reached for my cell phone and called Beavers. “Someone’s creeping outside Birdie’s house!”
    The dog began to bark and snarl.
    â€œI can hear Arthur in the background,” he said. “I’ll call it in. I’m on my way.”
    I headed toward Birdie’s bedroom, and she met me in the hallway. “What’s going on?”
    â€œSomeone’s outside my window. I just called Arlo.”
    She looked around anxiously. “What’ll we do?”
    Arthur ran past us and positioned himself at the back door, barking and growling a warning. I pushed Birdie into the hall closet. “You hide behind the coats until the police get here.”
    â€œWhat about you?” A dozen woolen sleeves muffled her voice.
    â€œDon’t worry about me. I’ve got Arthur.”
    My heart pounded as I ran into the kitchen. I looked around frantically and grabbed a small cast-iron skillet off the stove. Weapon poised in my hand above my head, I stood to the side of the back door. I should have taken Lucy’s offer of a gun more seriously.
    The knob rattled. Metal scraped against metal.
    Arthur stopped barking and leaned