A blackmailer targeting wealthy members of “Sister” Jane Arnold’s club has turned the hunters into the hunted in this thrilling 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 It’s the start of fox-hunting season and Sister is training a new generation of hounds in eager anticipation of Opening Hunt. But before they make it to that exciting day, several members of the hunt club receive ominous videos in which they appear to be doing scandalous, career-ending deeds. The videos are doctored, but does it matter? The unknown blackmailer promises to publish the clips if they don’t get paid, and even the most upstanding citizen can be brought down by the court of public opinion.   While Sister and her friends try to unmask the dastardly mind behind the videos, mysteries abound in their beautiful Blue Ridge Mountain town home. Two men die, apparently by suicide, shocking a community that never saw their deaths coming. And rumors abound that Old Paradise, the estate being lovingly restored by Crawford Howard, houses a secret stash of gold from its original owner. Does someone want the treasure badly enough to kill for?   Sister and her fellow Jefferson Hunt Club members, including friends both two- and four-legged, are on the case—and with any luck, they’ll catch the criminals before the first horn sounds on opening day. 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 series; the Sister Jane series; the Runnymede novels, including Six of One and Cakewalk; A Nose for Justice and Murder Unleashed; Rubyfruit Jungle; In Her Day; and many other books. An Emmy-nominated screenwriter and poet, Brown lives in Afton, Virginia, and is a Master of Foxhounds. CHAPTER 1 September 11, 2020, Friday   The bottom rim of the setting sun touched the spine of the Blue Ridge Mountains, the golden light, like a veil, slid down over the western side of the ancient mountains. Jane Arnold, “Sister,” drove slowly north toward Chapel Crossroads. Raleigh, her Doberman, and Rooster, her harrier, looked out the back window, interested in all they passed. To her left, commanding thousands of acres, reposed Old Paradise, an estate of uncommon beauty, begun in 1814. War, changes of fortune, Nature’s good years and bad years, left their mark. Finally, the outbuildings and majestic home became a reduced treasure, rubble, really. The estate was being restored by Crawford Howard, a man of great wealth. At long last the house had walls, a roof, gorgeous marble steps up to the double doors. As so many drawings had been made of the impressive place, Crawford could revive Old Paradise close to its original state. Stopping to admire the incredible palatial home, these slanting rays of the sun washed the Corinthian columns gold, then orange, lastly scarlet. The capital’s acanthus leaves below the cornice now deepened from gold to scarlet, finally blood red. As the last of the light turned the capitals blood red, blood seemed to run down the tall, elegant, fluted columns. Sister stopped, slightly shivered for a moment, then drove slowly toward the crossroads a quarter of a mile ahead. The simple church for which the crossroads was named at the beginning of the eighteenth century glowed in the sunset’s aftermath, now a sugary blue fading to twilight’s gray. Old Paradise, once close to twenty thousand acres, now five thousand, remained impressive. The final touches to the interior were ongoing. All outbuildings had been restored. Crawford started there first, figuring his workers and the staff archaeologists could cut their teeth on these buildings, some as old as the house itself. The st