"A favor?" Hank's tone was testy. "If your husband closes us up, I won't be able to give favors to you or anybody else."

"I know that, Hank," Sue responded sympathetically. "George is doing his best. He really is. But those boys in Danvillea""

Hank snarled. "Jackasses."

She nodded. "Yes, but they've got their rules and orders. We've all got our rules and orders."

"Here comes the bad news," Hank muttered with disgust. "It's just like in the military. The bad news always comes tucked in between talk about rules and orders."

Brenda knotted and unknotted her fingers anxiously. "Are we going to be quarantined or not? Because if we are, somebody's going to have to take care of Blot."

Blot was Brenda's very spoiled, very fat black cat. He was such a monstrous pile of shaggy fur when he sprawled out on her cream-colored carpeting that he looked like a giant ink stain, hence the name.

"Beulah could probablya"" Daisy began.

"Quarantined?" Sue interjected, shaking her head. "Nobody wants you quarantined. At least not that I've heard."

Both Brenda and Daisy breathed an audible sigh of relief.

"And I'm pretty sure somebody would have said something to me about it by now," Sue added, "because I was the one who got the closest to Fred when I examined him. Plus it's been four days. Quarantine wouldn't do much good after that long. Consider all the people we've been in contact with since Friday."

"If it's not contagious, then why close the diner?" Daisy asked.

"There's still the possibility of a disease, and the Danville police think the death is suspicious."

"Didn't you think that too?" Brenda said.

"I did," Sue admitted. "I still do."

Daisy's frustration grew. "But how is shutting down the diner going to make any difference with that?"

Sue shrugged. "It wasn't my idea. And for what it's worth, I don't think shutting down the diner is going to do a lick of good. But unfortunately, I don't get a say in the matter. It's completely out of my hands. I'm just a small-town paramedic, and as we all know, they don't listen to anybody small-town. I'm sorry, but we just have to wait for the results from the autopsy. That'll decide everything."

"So even if they do make us close now," Daisy mused hopefully, "if the autopsy comes back saying the death was due to normal, natural causes, then we can open back up?"

"George and I thought that too," Sue agreed.

Daisy looked back and forth between Brenda and Hank. "That's good news at least. I mean, how long can the autopsy take? Like she said, it's been four days already."

Brenda nodded enthusiastically. Hank turned to Sue.

"What's the favor you want from me?"

"Actually"a"she brushed the short black hair from her eyesa""it's a favor I want from Daisy."

"Me?" Daisy blinked at her in surprise.

"Let me start by explaininga""

Hank snorted, slumped down on a stool, and grabbed a scone. "Watch out, Daisy. I have the feeling you're about to be asked to donate a pair of kidneys."

Sue tried to laugh, but it was obviously forced.

"I'd be happy to do whatever I can for you," Daisy said.

She regretted the offer almost before she'd even finished the sentence. Sue was tugging at her blue crystal earrings with evident unease. It made Daisy nervous.

"The thing isa" Sue hesitated.

"Kidneys," Hank mumbled low.

"It's not about my momma, is it?" Daisy became increasingly worried. "Something bad hasn't happened, has it?"

"Oh, Ducky!" Brenda reached out and squeezed her hand in support.

"No, no," Sue replied quickly. "It's nothing like that."

Daisy took a deep, reassured breath. So long as her momma was okay. She still remembered with painful clarity how it had felt when she first received the horrible news about the accident and her daddy.

"The thing is," Sue began once more, "they started an investigation into Fred Dickerson's death."

"Right." Daisy was already aware of that, considering his body was in the process of being autopsied and the Danville forensics team had done a thorough inspection of the diner.

"Which means they need to look at the place where Fred lived. But there's an issue about gaining access to it."

"Gaining access to it?" Daisy frowned. "What's the problem there? Fox Hollow has a driveway. They just follow it until they reach the house."

"Except Fred Dickerson was just a tenant." Sue scrunched up her nose. "A tenant without a legal lease apparently. So they need to get permission from the owner before they go onto the property. And if not actual permissiona"because the death was suspiciousa"they at least need to talk to the owner."

Daisy's gaze narrowed as her former angst switched to suspicion. She didn't like the direction that the conversation seemed to be headed.

Sue came directly to the point. "The Danville police don't want to come up again if they don't have to, so they told George he needs to handle it. He's been ordered to talk to the owner of Fox Hollow. That's Rick Balsam."

"What does that have to do with me?" Daisy responded tersely.

"We both know that going to those trailers Rick and Bobby call home out there in the backwoods is never a picnic. You can only guess what you might find or what on earth they'll be doinga"

"Probably burning or shooting something," Brenda remarked.

Sue nodded. "They've got all those crazy signs posted. Then there are the dogs. They could be drunk, and I'm afraid they might be just a little too trigger happy when they see the Pittsylvania County sheriff's car pull up in their front yard."

Daisy didn't argue with her. She couldn't. Every word was true. The Balsam brothers did have crazy signs. And dogs. And by law enforcement standards, an uncomfortably large number of firearms, many of which were scoped.

"I suggested to George that I go instead of him," Sue continued, once again tugging at her earrings. "Break the ice, so to speak. Or at least try to break the ice. I don't think Rick and Bobby hold any major grudges against me. But George said there's only one person who he's sure Rick won't shoot on sight." She looked at Daisy with some embarrassment and gave her an apologetic shrug.

Hank grumbled a few incomprehensible syllables as he dug into a second scone. Daisy sighed. He was right. Sue was asking for a pair of kidneys. Or a mighty close equivalent.

"So you want me to go to Rick and Bobby's with you?" she said. "That's the favor?"

Sue's face instantly brightened. "That would be great, Daisy. George and I'd both really appreciate it."

Daisy hesitated. There wasn't even a teeny tiny fraction of her that wanted to pay a visit to the Balsam brothers. She saw more than enough of them already. But there was the diner to consider. The sooner the investigation into Fred Dickerson's death ended, the sooner H & P's could reopen.

"Fine," she agreed reluctantly. "I'll go." Daisy raised a shrewd eyebrow. "But the next time there's any trouble here at the diner, I expect the sheriff's office to take care of it lickety-split."

Sue laughed. "Of course."

"And can I also expect someone to stumble across an emergency slush fund to help cover the cost of the supposed sterilization of this place by the Danville hospital?"

"Either that," Sue promised, "or I'll do my durnedest to talk the folks at the hospital out of coming at all."

"Fine," Daisy said again, with a satisfied nod. "I'll go."

Hank grinned and slapped her on the shoulder. "You're a born negotiator, child. Just like your daddy."

She didn't grin back. Her daddy wouldn't have liked her going anywhere near Rick Balsam.

CHAPTER.

6.

The ambulance bumped over the gravel like a woozy pack mule plodding along an old wagon trail. Back and forth. Up and down. It was enough to make even the most rugged country girl long for a smooth, paved boulevard. But the scenery was lovely. Pine stands as far as the eye could see. Endless rows of majestic, towering trees. It was a dark, almost ominous forest, with only an occasional sunburst breaking through the canopy where a windstorm or lightning strike had created a small natural clearing. Everywhere the ground was covered with a thick carpet of dried, rust-colored needles. And the smell was heavenly. It was fresh and clean, with a hint of sweetness to it, almost like a stick of peppermint candy.

"This is a hundred times better than air-conditioning." Daisy sighed, opening the window and inhaling deeply. "It always amazes me how you can be sweltering to death in ninety-plus degrees standing in the middle of some cornfield, then you take two steps in here and it feels like a completely different season. You can actually breathe again."

"Speaking of breathing," Sue replied, "when we get to the trailers should I prepare myself for being accosted by any animals other than the dogs?"

"I don't think so. Lordy, I hope not, because I only brought goodies for the pups." Daisy patted the bulging bag of ham bones that she had taken from the diner. "When was the last time you were at the trailers, Sue?"

"I was just trying to figure that out myself." She calculated a moment. "It must have been about two years ago. It was that time Rick had to call the rescue squad when Bobby accidentally skewered himself in the knee."

Daisy burst out laughing. "I remember that! He'd watched some old Robin Hood movie and was trying to make his own crossbow."

"A real genius idea that turned out to be."

"I must have teased him about it for a good six months whenever he and Rick came into the diner after that."

"Daisy," Sue said, growing serious, "I want to thank you again for going with me today to talk to them. I was awfully worried about George coming out here all alone. I know it can't be easy for you. I know there's a lot of a er a history between you and Rick."

Her laughter promptly died, but she was saved from having to answer by the appearance of the Balsam brothers' infamous signs. The first few were nothing out of the ordinary, merely the standard yellow postings ordering no hunting, no fishing, and no hiking. They were followed by a half dozen black-and-orange beware of dog and a similar half dozen black-and-white private property. Then came the serious signs, the ones that made Sue slow the ambulance and shift uncomfortably in her seat. Some were handmade. Others were professionally done. But they were all big and quite clear.

TRESPASSERS WILL BE SHOT ON SIGHT.

GOVERNMENT AGENTS WILL BE SHOT ON SIGHT.

GOVERNMENT VEHICLES WILL BE SHOT ON SIGHT.

SOLICITORS WILL BE SHOT ON SIGHT.

STRANGERS WILL BE SHOT ON SIGHT.

TURN AROUND NOW OR YOU WILL BE SHOT ON SIGHT.

"I think that last one is new," Daisy remarked, half smothering a chortle.

Sue looked at her in surprise. "You think they're funny?"

"No. Of course not. But you said it best when we were at the diner. The signs are crazy. They've always been crazy, and they're always going to be crazy." She shrugged. "So what's the point of getting worked up about them?"

"It's easy for you to be calm. You're not the government agent driving the government vehicle."

"There's probably an unwritten exception for paramedics and ambulances," Daisy joked. "There was when Bobby skewered himself with the crossbow, right?"

A small smile crept over Sue's otherwise tense face.

"Don't worry," Daisy reassured her. "They won't shoot us. So long as we identify ourselves as soon as possiblea"and the boys aren't too drunk."

"That's not really very comforting."

She shrugged once more. "Honestly, I think there's a higher likelihood of getting mauled by the pups."

"Now I'm even happier George isn't here. He doesn't do so well with dogs, especially not the overly aggressive kind. He gets too many calls about roaming feral packs that shredded the favorite family hen. He has to put a lot of them down."

"The Balsam canines can get pretty aggressive if they feel threatened. Sometimes even Bobby has trouble controlling them. But they always obey Rick."

Sue gulped. "I guess we better hope Rick is home."

"If he's not, the whole trip up here was for nothing. But," Daisy added deprecatingly, glancing at her watch, "it's only midafternoon. The boys are probably still sleeping off whatever depravity they participated in last night."

"How anyone can sleep over that racket is a mystery to me."

From a distance the collective howling, barking, and baying of dogs sounded like the rumble of thunder from an impending storm. As Daisy and Sue drove closer, it rose in pitch and ferocity until it became a din of gale-force intensity, completely deafening every other sound, even that of the ambulance motor.

"Pull all the way into the clearing," Daisy instructed as the gravel road began to widen. "The pups will start jumping at the tires, but don't worry about them. They're way too smart and agile to get trampled. If you stop too soon, it'll be that much harder for us to make it to the trailers."

Sue pursed her lips nervously and nodded. She jumped when the first rottweiler crashed against the door on her side, snarling like it hadn't eaten for a week and was planning on using her as its next meal.

"Just ignore him," Daisy said. "Keep going. Keep going."

Eyeing the snapping beast warily, Sue continued forward. Daisy had no doubt that if Sue had been just a little less worried about the safety of her husband, she would have instantly shifted the ambulance into reverse and squealed backward down the road, getting as far away from Balsam land as possible.

Restraining a smile, Daisy turned to look at the dogs, counting them and seeing which ones she knew. "That's Morgan." She pointed first to the rottweiler clawing at the door and then to a second rottweiler hot on his sister's heels. "The other is Captain."