“But you’ve got a gun, too, Anna,” Delsey said. “She’s got a Smith and Wesson .44 Magnum,” she added to Griffin. “I saw it when I happened to barge in on her and she was cleaning it. When I asked her what she did with that sucker, she said she liked to shoot cones off the pine on Lone Tree Hill.”

Griffin laughed. “What are you doing with a .44 Magnum, and not a small handgun?”

Anna said, “It belongs to my mom. She insisted I take it since I was moving here to the boondocks. Like her, I also believe in self-protection, and yes, I can use it. I won’t shoot myself in the foot. And yes, I have a license for it. But, Delsey, that’s not the point. Despite his snark, I agree with your brother. We have no clue what the killer’s intentions toward you are. Those two men—they could have thought you were dead and simply left you on your bathroom floor. Tell me again, Delsey, you’re sure the man who struck you down was a young Hispanic? Do you remember enough about him to help give them a sketch?”

“I told Griffin I only got a quick look. He was young, younger than me, but I was terrified, Anna. It was so fast, it was really only an impression. As for the other man, I didn’t even get a glimpse of him, only heard him yelling.”

Anna turned to Griffin to see him staring at her, and stopped asking questions. Her voice became quiet and calm as the falling snow outside the window. “I know Bud’s B&B has a two-bedroom suite that’s usually available.”

The gun-toting violinist who served up boudin and Slap Ya Mama spice at Maurie’s Diner agreed with him? She thought Delsey could still be in danger? She never seemed to say what he expected, and it had nothing to do with her accent.

“You from New Orleans?” he asked her again.

“Nope, but nearby. Bosard is only about thirty miles from New Orleans. It’s a little flyspeck, even on a good map.”

Delsey said, “I remember once, when I told her about falling out of a tree when I was ten and landing on you, she told me how she shot her first alligator when she was nine. I couldn’t top that one, Griffin. We didn’t have anything cool like that in our childhood.”

Nurse Cotton appeared in the doorway. “Are you all right, Ms. Freestone?” From her look, it was obvious she’d overheard some of what they were saying. Griffin thought she’d probably like to see the back of all of them, including the guard outside the door.

Delsey smiled at her. “I’m fine.”

Nurse Cotton said, “That’s good, but I need to check your vitals.” She stepped right over, took Delsey’s blood pressure, checked her pulse, and took her temperature. “You have any dizziness when you went to the bathroom? No? That’s good. How about nausea? Headache? Okay, seems to me you may be good to go, but let’s see what Dr. Chesney has to say tomorrow morning.”

“Would you like the rest of my pistachio-pineapple ice cream? It’s wonderful.”

This offer got a smile and a raised eyebrow from Nurse Cotton. “You go ahead and finish it, you like it so much.” She looked at Griffin. “When Maurie added pistachio-pineapple ice cream to the menu, I thought it sounded strange, but after I tried it, I was a convert. Okay, guys, she’s had a big day. No more upsets for her. She needs a good solid sleep tonight. Hey, you really shot an alligator, Anna? When you were only nine years old?”

“Sure enough. I thought I was a goner. I was out lazin’ around where I shouldn’t have been. Good thing for me I had my brother’s shotgun. I said enough prayers to hold me in good stead until I was eighteen.”

Ruth appeared in the doorway. “Hey, Delsey, you look pretty good. How’s your head feeling?”

“Fine, Ruth, I’m fine.”

Nurse Cotton pursed her lips but didn’t say anything even though Griffin knew she wanted them out so Delsey could hang it up for the night. She nodded to them, a warning in her eyes, and left.

Ruth said to Griffin, “I wanted you to know Dix is getting Bertie—he’s an old hound who drools a lot—out tomorrow morning to see if he can track where they took that man’s body. I’ve rubbed a bit of blood from Delsey’s bathtub on a cloth to give him the scent. Hopefully there’ll be a trail for him. We’ll turn Bertie loose right outside Delsey’s apartment, both at the front and the back entrance.”

Griffin said, “There’s so much snow, if Bertie doesn’t find him, he could be buried until there’s a thaw.”

“The snow’s supposed to stop during the night; then, of all things,” Ruth said, “the sun’s supposed to come out tomorrow and warm us up to forty degrees.”