The Tell-tale Horse

by Rita Mae Brown

  “Of course.” Walter nodded.

  As the field rode back, everyone talked. Gray stuck with Sam, since in company with hounds, humans, and other horses Sam’s steeplechaser grew restive. Fortunately few saw Clayton since Sister prudently kept them back, but everyone saw the offending king of the crows.

  CHAPTER 29

  Back at the trailers, Ilona caught up with Cabel. “What have you done?”

  “Help me. Help me get out of here.”

  “Cabel, what have you done?” Ilona dismounted quickly, tying her horse to the side of the trailer, slipping the halter over the bridle first. “You told me he was in rehab.”

  “He figured it out. What else could I do?” Although rattled by Gray and Sam’s discovery of her husband’s body, she evidenced no regret. “He even figured out that I put the silver bowl in Sister’s barn, because I left early for hunting that morning. What could I do?”

  “For one thing,” Ilona coolly responded, “you could have dumped him anywhere but a fixture.”

  “Didn’t have time. We were driving out this way. Walter was at the hospital, so once Clayton cornered me I had to work fast.”

  “Did you shoot him?”

  “Hell, yes, I shot him. Do you think I could strangle him? He was so fat I’d never get my hands around his neck.” She snorted. “What a fool he was. Typical male. Thought he had nothing to fear from a woman. When I pulled my twenty-two out of my purse and shot him between the eyes—well, Ilona, that was one of the happiest moments of my life.”

  “Where were you?”

  “Here. He’d been hectoring me, you know, citing the time I left the Casanova Ball, how I loathed Faye Spencer. I asked him if he’d slept with her and he said that was none of my business. He tried to pin it on Ramsey, who did call on her, but this is one instance where your dear husband bearded for mine. Or for all I know they bearded for each other. They fooled everyone. What shits.” She smiled wryly. “One down, one to go, but I’ll deal with Ramsey later. I need to get out.”

  “I’ll deal with Ramsey. How did you ever drag Clayton down that ravine?”

  “Easy as pie. I shot him in the bed of the truck. First, I told him to drive down the Mill Ruins farm road because I wanted to help feed foxes at Shootrough, and when we neared the widest part of the ravine—where I remembered it anyway—I told him to stop. Then I climbed into the truck bed and lifted a twenty-five-pound bag of dog food but I pretended I couldn’t quite do it so he clambered up and I shot him. It never occurred to him that it might be odd to carry your purse into the bed of a truck.”

  Despite herself, this made Ilona laugh. “No blood?”

  “Hardly. I hit him square between the eyes. So he now has the third eye of prophecy. The silly bastard. I should have killed him first, you know, before dispatching that Indian slut to Shiva or whatever those people worship. Then again, waiting made it sweeter, plus he had to pretend he didn’t know anything about her.” She threw a cooler over her horse. “The hard part was getting back in the woods without scraping up the truck. Got as close as I could and then I kept rolling him until I rolled him right over the edge. The snows came as a godsend, I will admit. Covered my tracks. And you know what else? It also never occurred to him to ask me why I was feeding foxes. That’s not my job. Nothing but air between those ears—which, of course, I found out for certain when I shot him. The bullet just sailed right through.”

  Ilona’s head snapped up. “Cabel, I can hear the horses.” She put her hands on her friend’s forearm. “Give yourself up. You can’t get away. There’s not even time to unhitch your trailer.”

  Cabel realized Ilona was right. “Guess they’d catch me anyway.” Her eyes blazed. “But I’m not going down without a fight. If I have to die, I’ll die on my feet.”

  “Cabel, please, there were extenuating circumstances. A good lawyer can spare you the death penalty.”

  “Well, you’re an accessory. I killed for you as well as for me; Ramsey slept with Aashi. You didn’t have the guts.” She sighed. “You always were a softie.”

  “I know.” Ilona admitted what to Cabel was a flaw. “Yes, I am an accessory. I helped you with both women. But I’ll face the music. We can’t go on. We can’t.”

  “Are you sorry?” Cabel did love her best friend.

  “Yes and no.” Ilona, tears in her eyes, confessed. “I’m sorry we’re going to get caught but I’m not sorry Aashi and Faye received the deaths they deserved. I’m not sorry I helped you. After all, I owed you one.” She smiled sadly. “Revenge is much sweeter than people want to believe.”

  “It is, isn’t it?” Cabel laughed. “That’s the point of Christianity, to remove revenge from our hands. Mine are covered with blood and I’d do it again.”

  They heard Shaker’s strong voice. “Good hounds, good hounds.”

  Cabel grabbed Ilona, kissed her on the cheek, and sprinted to the old mill, opening the heavy door and closing it behind her.

  Ilona stood there, face wet with tears. She turned to take the halter and then the bridle off her horse, slipping the halter back on. She also loosened the girth for Cabel’s horse, removing the bridle.

  When Sister rode up she noticed Ilona’s tears. “Where’s Cabel?”

  “I don’t know. I couldn’t catch up with her but I found Mickey tied to the trailer. She’s so distraught there’s no telling where she is. I’m afraid she might—”

  Sister, thinking Ilona meant suicide, looked down from Lafayette’s back and said, very low, “We’ll check the millrace.”

  “Oh, God.” Ilona burst into sobs.

  Sister hurried to her trailer and handed her horse’s reins to Tootie, who was already on the ground. “Tootie, I need your help. Take care of Lafayette.” She walked over to Shaker, Betty, and Sybil, still mounted. “I’ll get the door.” She opened the party wagon door and the hounds walked in, glad for a fresh drink of water from the big buckets. Sister counted heads as they walked in. “All on.”

  Huntsmen and two whippers-in dismounted.

  Betty patted Outlaw’s neck. “A day not to be forgotten, for both good and ill.”

  “And it’s not over yet.” Sister rapidly repeated what she had assumed was Ilona’s fear.

  Shaker exhaled. “I’ll walk the millrace.”

  Sister hurried back to her trailer with Betty. “Tootie, when you finish with Lafayette, help Shaker, will you? Staff has an extra chore.” Then, hoping she appeared calm, she walked to the Custis Hall van. “Val, will you tell Walter, he’s in his stable, staff is walking the millrace. I’ll explain to him later.” She checked her pocket watch. “Be another twenty minutes before Ben’s people reach us. Pamela, make sure everyone gets into the house for the breakfast. Lorraine’s in charge today, but she’ll need you and Felicity. People are at loose ends, obviously. If they’re all together, maybe Lorraine—” She turned as Charlotte Norton rode up. “Charlotte, I’ve given the girls assignments. If I may, I’ll give you one also. Pamela and Felicity will herd everyone into the house. Will you help calm folks? Keep them out of the way of Ben’s people.” She paused. “Just in case something else pops up.” Realizing what she’d just said and thinking Cabel was in the millrace, she shut her eyes for a second.

  “Of course.” Charlotte agreed readily. “I’ll wait for you or Ben to give me the all clear.”

  “Please excuse me. Staff has a chore to do, and I don’t know when or if we’ll get to the breakfast.”

  Gray and Sam were at Sam’s trailer, one of Crawford’s.

  “Gray,” Sister called out, “will you help Lorraine? Walter needs to get Ben’s people back to the ravine.”

  Gray nodded. “Yes.”

  Sister watched Val run to Walter’s stable and then walk back toward to the millrace. The water moved along, which meant if Cabel jumped in near the mill itself, her body would already be hung up in the paddles, slowing the wheel or slipping under. Since the huge wheel turned easily, if Cabel was in the race, her body hadn’t yet drifted down. In
her heavy frock coat, she’d be at the bottom. This gruesome thought pushed Sister onward. Drowning must be a painful death; one’s lungs burst. She thought as she walked along the race in its swift course toward the mill that perhaps there were few easy, painless deaths. Best not to dwell upon it.

  The millrace itself originated in a deep hard-running stream a mile from the mill. The hands that cut the race back in the late 1790s had turned to dust, but their excellent work bore testimony to their skill, as did the stonework lining the cut waterway. The expense of duplicating such a feat today, if one could even find the artisans, would spiral into a couple of million dollars, to say nothing of interference from local and state agencies.

  Shaker soon joined her, as did Sybil and Betty, who moved much farther up toward the stream.

  Tootie, finished with Lafayette, headed toward the house just as Val emerged from the barn. The two met on the wide bridge over the millrace, the mist from the spray enveloping them.

  Tootie looked up through open patches. “Sky’s changing again, pushing this down.”

  “Feels like snow.” Val grinned. “I love it when it snows. The whole world is new.”

  “Guess we’d better get to the breakfast. Everyone’s supposed to gather in the house, and I think they have.”

  “Mrs. Merriman hasn’t.” Val tilted her head in the direction of Ilona’s trailer. The woman sat on her mounting block, head in hands, sobbing, as Ramsey attempted to comfort her. They had some sort of exchange, and Ramsey reluctantly left her for the house after kissing her on the cheek.

  “Better not go there.” Tootie wondered how anyone could find comfort, given that your best friend was coming apart at the seams.

  The young women didn’t know why Sister, Shaker, Betty, and Sybil walked the millrace, but they certainly noticed the staff members peering intently into the running water, the mist coming farther down now and skimming the water.

  “Tootie, I have a terrible feeling about this.”

  It dawned on Tootie that the day’s dreadful events might not yet be over. “Should we help?”

  “If Sister wanted us, she’d ask.” Val looked up at the large wheel turning.

  The small wooden door near the middle of the wheel suddenly opened, the hinge squeaking. Cabel Harper leaned out, looked around, and closed the door.

  Val ran across the bridge, Tootie in her wake. She opened the large door at the base of the mill and entered.

  Tootie’s instincts told her not to go in but Val was already through the door, so she cupped her hands to be heard over the turning wheel. “Master, Master!”

  Sister looked in her direction as Tootie pointed to the mill and then disappeared through the door. “Shaker, Betty, Sybil, come on!”

  The four were running along the slippery millrace when they heard a shot. This spurred them on. Shaker was first through the door.

  “Don’t move!” Cabel called. She was standing next to one of the enormous slow-moving gears, each tooth catching the tooth of its mated gear.

  Tootie, still as a mouse, was half obscured by a heavy shaft. Cabel could see her but couldn’t get a clear second shot. She held the .22 to Val’s temple, the barrel opening slightly warm from the fired bullet.

  When the girls saw her, Cabel had rushed down the wide wooden stairs and grabbed Val as she came through the door. When Tootie lunged, Cabel had fired, but Tootie rolled and the bullet missed.

  “Let her go, Cabel.” Shaker kept calm, making no attempt to protect himself, but he didn’t move. Neither did Sister, Betty, or Sybil.

  “What do you take me for, a complete idiot? Val’s my passport.” Cabel grinned. “Now, if you all have the silly idea of rushing me, I have five shots left, one for each of you, and I’m not a half bad shot. Even if one or two of you don’t get hit, I have plenty of time to reload.”

  “Then I’ll get away,” Val vowed, bold as she was on a horse.

  “Oh, my pet, I’ll shoot you first. Look at it this way: It’s my Christian duty; I’m sparing you a life of pain, at the mercy of evil men.”

  Sister stepped forward, pushing past Shaker. “Cabel, swap me for Val. I’m old. Let her go.”

  “Spare me your nobility. I’m not letting any of you go. I know what you really are, Jane Arnold. You slept with my husband.”

  “For God’s sake, Cabel, that was twenty years ago!” Sister exclaimed.

  Sister hoped to create a diversion, as Tootie crouched and then crept toward Cabel, who grasped the collar of Val’s coat and hauled her backward, toward the steps and up them.

  Cabel ascended to the first landing, giving her better sight lines. “Val, if you don’t struggle, I might let you go.”

  “Yes, Mrs. Harper.” Val sounded ever so polite as her mind feverishly sought an escape.

  Shrewdly, Betty moved next to Sister. “Cabel, what’s happened? This isn’t like you.”

  “Oh, it is. I am walking into my house justified.” Cabel used the old southern expression.

  Sister answered with another one. “What you’re doing, Cabel Harper, is coming home by Weeping Cross.”

  “Oh, do shut up, you old bitch!” Cabel laughed uproariously. “I’ll give you credit, though. You’ve shown good sport and you can ride. Yes, you can. ’Course, I’m not half bad myself.” She laughed again.

  “Cabel, please let her go. I’ll put my hands behind my head and come up the stairs. Please don’t harm that girl.” Sister wanted to scream but kept her voice as modulated as if she were playing bridge.

  “No. We’re all going to heaven together, although if Val is a very, very good girl, I might spare her so she can tell everyone else what happened. There should always be one person left to tell the tale after a massacre.” She looked upward at the next level. “I can see the coverage on TV now: Massacre at Mill Ruins. Cabel Harper, upstanding member of the community, lost her shit and killed five people. Guess they wouldn’t say lost her shit would they?”

  “And why are you saying it? You never used to be crude.” Sister baited her.

  A flash of anger illuminated Cabel’s pretty features. “What does being a lady get you? You do as you’re told. You marry well. You work hard. You participate in volunteer organizations. You vote. What does it get you? Nothing. It’s a façade, a lure, so people like you or me don’t look too closely at how things really work. At who really controls the world. We’re cogs in the wheel just like these cogs in here. Eventually you get ground down.”

  “Was that Clayton? Is that why you ran off screaming?” Shaker stuck next to Sister because if Cabel fired he was going to jump in front. He had no more desire to be hurt than the next guy, but he never lacked courage and he would defend someone he loved. His feeling was “Why live if there’s no one you’d die for?”

  Sybil picked up the line. “You shot him, didn’t you?”

  When Sybil rode in to hold hounds she’d looked down into the ridge and thought she’d recognized Clayton’s maroon windbreaker, although under the circumstances it was difficult to be certain.

  One squad car and an ambulance drove across the bridge, no sirens.

  “Damn,” Sister whispered.

  Tootie kept creeping until now she was under a gear parallel to the floor as she edged closer to the stairs.

  “Shot that son of a bitch dead to rights. I should have done it years ago.”

  “Judgment is up to God.” Sister’s anger was coming to the fore no matter how hard she tried to keep it in check.

  “Bullshit. God is another helpful illusion. If people believe that crap, you don’t need as many cops to keep them in line, do you?” Cabel smiled. “Sheep. We’re all sheep, but I woke up. I was wronged, but I fixed it.”

  “You killed Aashi and Faye?” Betty, too, was looking for a place to dive and then crawl toward the stairs.

  “Did. It was a bitch, hauling those carcasses up on the horses, but I had help.”

  “Why did you clean them up?” Sister was curious.

  “I didn’t want anyt
hing to distract from their beauty or from the retribution, even though people didn’t know why they were killed. Beauty lured Clayton. He was so weak. Well, you lured him too. You should know.”

  “He was weak.” Sister agreed with Cabel, which pleased her.

  “High Vajay is innocent?” Sybil asked, to keep Cabel talking.

  “No. He didn’t kill anyone, but he’s a faithless pig like every other man.”

  “I resent that.” Shaker hoped to draw her ire.

  Tootie suddenly crawled as fast as she could, rolling under the stairs. Cabel fired, but too late.

  “Now you only have four bullets,” Tootie taunted.

  “Tootie, stay where you are.” Val’s voice was strong.

  “I’ll kill you first.” Cabel crouched down to fire under the stairs.

  Val twisted free; at six foot one she was taller and stronger than Cabel. She grabbed Cabel from behind, struggling to grasp her right wrist. Cabel kicked backward, catching Val on the shin, but not hard enough to dislodge her.

  Tootie bolted from under the stairs, vaulting them two at a time.

  Sister, Shaker, Betty, and Sybil followed.

  Cabel turned as Val held her as though twirling on the dance floor. Desperation increased the middle-aged woman’s strength, and as a foxhunter she’d kept in good shape. She pushed her right hand forward with all her might, slamming the butt of the gun into Val’s forehead and opening a wide gash. Val lost her grip, blood gushing into her left eye. Tootie was still six steps away as Cabel whirled to fire.

  “No!” Sister screamed as Cabel took aim, but Tootie kept coming.

  Eyes focused on Cabel’s index finger, Tootie saw the squeeze and flung herself down as Val, wiping blood from her eye, bumped Cabel.

  The bullet grazed Tootie’s boot at the calf.

  The bottom door opened. Ilona, hearing the shots, raced in.

  Cabel looked down, then back at the two girls. She hesitated a second.

  Ilona, tears running as fast as the millrace, shouted, “Cabel, no. Please, no!”

  “Let’s go together.” Cabel, tears now in her eyes, aimed and shot Ilona through the heart. As Tootie rose to jump her, Cabel swung wide. Tootie ducked, as did Val.