He must have been leaning forward when it happened. The body was half on and half off the foot of the bed. The shoe on his right foot had no lace. His left foot was shoeless and sockless. Blue boxer shorts with green vertical stripes. A snowy undershirt. Half of his head had been blown away.

Black powder residue stained the base of his skull. The entry hole was small but the caliber must have been fairly heavy. Most of his face was splattered across the rumpled sheets, white fleece blanket, fake leather headboard, and part of the wall.

A wave of queasiness rolled through my gut as I glanced back over my shoulder. Klinkton County’s Medical Examiner, Dr. L. Robert Helsey, was standing next to the open doorway, gray fedora, black overcoat. His tired grey eyes appeared to be filled with the same questions that pummeled my own brain

Who had done this? And why?

Standing behind Helsey and peering into the room over his left shoulder were the ashen faces of two women. One was Charlene Stebbins, the acting manager of the Deer Hollow Inn. Her blue eyes were wide, blank, doll-like, with a heavy coating of blue mascara and black eyeliner. She was nervously twirling a strand of silver-blonde hair whose dark roots were clearly visible. Her dark blue pant suit was a snug fit on a generous figure.

The other woman in the doorway was nearly as tall as the M.E. But unlike Helsey’s gaunt, Abe Lincoln look, her shoulders were broad for a woman, even though her hips and waist were narrow. She looked like she might have been a competitive swimmer twenty, twenty-five years ago. Her hair short and brown, she was wearing a slightly rumpled pale green maid’s uniform.

“His name is Phillip Ritzo,” Charlene Stebbens said, her voice shrill, her delivery rapid and breathless. “Was Phillip Ritzo. He’s from Philadelphia. There was a woman staying with him, too. Right, Bree?” The other woman’s nod was almost imperceptible.

“I was afraid to look in the bathroom,” Charlene hurried on. “Maybe the woman’s dead, too. In there. Jesus what a mess. I hope we don’t have to replace the mattress. Those things cost money. The boss’ll—”

I broke in. “Did anybody hear anything?”

Charlene stared at me. “You mean like gunshots?” She shook her head. “Nobody said anything about that. Couple people complained last night about people yelling. But at this time of year the people who stay here are always yelling. It’s deer season. You know what I mean? Hunters pour into this part of Pennsylvania from everywhere. Beered up and ready to roll.”

I glanced at Helsey and then moved toward the door, my hand reaching for the knob. Helsey stepped aside.

“Deer hunters can get kind of rowdy,” I admitted as I started closing the door. “But right now Dr. Helsey and I have work to do. So if you two ladies will just wait outside I’ll talk to you in a few minutes. Okay?”

The two women backed away as I eased the door shut in their faces. I turned toward the bed again and looked around. Another wave of nausea washed through my gut. I’d been on the job as the sheriff of Klinkton County for less than a month and I’d already seen more dead bodies than I’d ever seen in my life before.