“Makes you wonder why a woman like her leased that old house,” Lewis said as Ms. Spencer opened her car door and climbed inside. “I haven’t seen anything like her in a long time. Maybe never.”

“You don’t get out of Pearl County enough.” Dylan slid behind the wheel of the Blazer and shut the door. He shoved the key in the ignition and watched the Porsche drive away.

“Did you get a load of those Tony Lamas?” Lewis asked as he got into the passenger seat.

“Couldn’t miss those boots.” Once Lewis shut his door, Dylan put the vehicle into drive and pulled away from the curb. “She won’t last six minutes, let alone six months.”

“Do you want to bet?”

“Even you aren’t that big a sucker, Lewis.” Dylan cranked the wheel and headed out of town. “She’s going to take one look at the old Donnelly place and keep right on driving.”

“Maybe, but I got a ten in my wallet that says she lasts a week.”

Dylan thought of MZBHAVN strolling toward him, all smooth and shiny and expensive. “You’re on, my friend.”

Chapter Two

BLOODTHIRSTY BATS ATTACK UNSUSPECTING WOMAN

Hope Spencer shut the car door behind her, folded her arms beneath her breasts, and leaned her behind against her silver Porsche. White-hot sun beat down from an endless blue sky, immediately baking her bare shoulders and the part in her hair. Not so much as a hint of a breeze touched her face or penetrated the cotton-and-Lycra tank sticking to her skin. The steady buzz of insects joined the whine of a my-man-done-me-wrong country song drifting from the lone house across the gravel road.

Hope’s gaze narrowed and her Ray Bans slid down the bridge of her nose. Number Two Timberline was brown and gray, all right. Brown where the gray paint had peeled away.