When a body is found curiously displayed on “Sister” Jane Arnold’s foxhunting grounds, members of her hunt club realize someone is sending them a dire message, in this exciting mystery from New York Times bestselling author Rita Mae Brown. “Cunning foxes, sensible hounds, and sweet-tempered horses are among the sparkling conversationalists in this charming series.”— The New York Times Book Review Early fall in Virginia means shorter days, cooler temperatures, the blooming milkweeds of summer giving way to fields of fluffy seeds—and of course, the start of fox hunting season. It’s “Sister” Jane Arnold’s favorite time of year. And this year, the Jefferson Hunt Club is busier than ever, organizing a fundraising drive to help with the upkeep of their beloved hunting grounds. But the festive season is interrupted by the appearance of a dead body, tied to a chair and placed directly in the path of an early-season hunt. No one recognizes the victim, but the intentional placement makes it clear that someone is sending a message. Then, one huntsman’s valuable stamp collection is stolen, and they discover the victim was also a stamp collector. Sister suspects a connection, which is confirmed when just one stamp is found taped to the garage door of her friend and treasurer of the hunt club Ronnie Haslip. Could Ronnie have been involved in either the murder or the theft, or has he been marked as the next victim? Sister must uncover who has been sending these cryptic signs to her friends—before any of them wind up dead. Praise for the mysteries of Rita Mae Brown Out of Hounds “Jane ‘Sister’ Arnold . . . and her friends are now in their sixties and early seventies, but they remain as spry as ever. . . . Animal lovers and those curious about the elite world of fox hunting will be rewarded.” — Publishers Weekly Scarlet Fever “The richness of this novel rests in the varied characters. . . . The descriptions of the countryside are so vivid that it makes one want to take a trip there and bring your horse.” — Mid-South Horse Review Homeward Hound “With deep and broad knowledge of the sport, the area and the people and animals who inhabit it, [Brown] infuses Homeward Hound— and the entire series—with unmatched authenticity, Southern charm, beloved characters and engaging storylines.” — The Free Lance–Star Crazy Like a Fox “Without a doubt, Crazy Like a Fox is [Brown’s] best mystery to date . . . and earns top marks for everything from plot to pace to charcters.” — In & Around Horse Country Let Sleeping Dogs Lie “Cunning foxes, sensible hounds and sweet-tempered horses are among the sparkling conversationalists in this charming series.” — The New York Times Book Review Rita Mae Brown is the bestselling author of the Sneaky Pie Brown mysteries; the Sister Jane series; the Runnymede novels, including Six of One and Cakewalk ; A Nose for Justice and Murder Unleashed ; Rubyfruit Jungle ; and In Her Day ; as well as many other books. An Emmy-nominated screenwriter and a poet, Brown lives in Afton, Virginia, and is a Master of Foxhounds and the huntsman. Chapter 1 September 23, 2022, Friday The long slanting rays before sunset illuminated the dancing milkweed seeds, silver white, turning them gold, then scarlet, and finally a rich lavender. Jane Arnold, Sister to all, stood in her twenty-­acre wildflower field watching the rising, falling, twirling milkweeds. The temperature cooled as the sun set. She hugged her old cashmere sweater, thin but warm, tighter to her as she walked back toward the farm road. The field contained black-­eyed Susans announcing fall had truly arrived. Jerusalem artichokes, coneflowers, their blue contrasting with the yellows; towering above all were the Joe Pye weeds. Sister never considered Joe Pye a weed but that was the title. Underfoot were the remains of lavender. The light faltered. As it did so, the electric lights came on in the original log cabin of Roughneck Farm, built back in the early seventeen hundreds. Later, money rolling in, the owners added a clapboard addition, all of this settling on a stout stone foundation. Breathing the cool air, Sister felt a tug of melancholy. Today was the day after the autumnal equinox. She always paused, as she felt the equinoxes gave us stillness, a time to reflect; look back and look forward. And she did. Stepping onto the red clay farm road, some ruts deepening, she noted the apple orchard across from the log cabin. Over the generations it had been tended, pruned, restored, new trees planted when the old finally produced their last fruits, always with a flourish. One knew it was the end. She wondered was this the same for humans. How could one know? A black fox, Inky, kept a large, tidy den in the apple orchard. Comet, another fox, gray, lived under the log cabin in cozy quarters. Not only did the warmth somewhat radiate downward, but Comet had also stolen every old coat, scarf, and saddle pad left u