Inez had called Terri the evening when theyd received the vituperative emails from Mariah, after speaking to Liz.
You know how Terri gets, Liz had said. Shell hear this through the pipelineprobably tomorrowpitch a fit, and fall in it.
True, Inez had replied.
Ill call her now. Give me twenty minutes, but then will you call, too? Youre so good at calming people down. Liz paused. Maybe because you calm animals.
Well, we are just animals.
Inez had called Terri, who carried on as expected.
Now Inez said, No need to thank me. I think weve gone over these bizarre and sad events enough. Inez really hoped Terri had gotten it out of her system. She didnt want to go over it one more time, nor did she have the patience for Terris emotions. Maybe the cold was making her cranky. She didnt know and, at that exact moment, she didnt care.
Harry, trying to keep tabs on her two bad cats, had noticed an unusual foot-high fat-bottomed glazed pot, with cork stopper and hardened wax around the stoppers edge.
She picked it up. This weighs a ton.
Oh. Dismay played on Terris face. That shouldnt be out here. I havent cleaned it up yet. Im a bit rattled with well, you know. Here, let me take it to the back and clean it.
Looks clean to me.
No. If youre interested, you should see it at its best. Terri grabbed it.
The fat-bottomed vase slipped through her hands, smashing to the floor. It cracked in half but didnt split wide open.
The cats moved closer.
Inside was a plastic bag filled with something.
Sharp odor. Mrs. Murphy sneezed.
You see, Terri explained nervously, theyre shipped from Mexico packed with sand, to make them more stable. Also, more of them would break in transit if they were hollow. And here I am, breaking one. She knelt down, squeezed the two thick crockery halves together, and walked the vase back into her storage area.
Harry, Inez, and the cats heard water running.
Inez plucked a mustard-colored cup off the shelf, whispering to Harry, Id better buy something.
When Terri returned, she brightened at the sight of a sale, no matter how small. Good choice.
I dont trust her, Pewter remarked.
Me, neither, Mrs. Murphy agreed.
Back in the station wagon, Harry inserted her square key, put her foot on the brake, then hit the start button.
Inez laughed. Cant they make cars with keys anymore?
Guess not. Harry smiled. Its a great vehicle, truly, but Im with youkeep it simple. She checked her rearview mirror after pressing the button for the wiper in the long window over the tailgate. Think you got everything?
Yes. You were smart to hit the grocery store first.
I usually wait until Wednesday or Thursday for that, but I havent been as organized as I should.
I havent helped. You and Fair gave up half a day to pick me up, give up your bedroom, move some of your clothes and things aroundtime-consuming.
Inez, dont give it a second thought. We love having you.
Youre a sweetheart. Inez petted Pewter, ignoring her wet paws.
Mrs. Murphy jumped in the rear to snuggle up to Tucker.
As they drove slowly through the snow, Harry remarked, Sand.
I know. Thought about that, too.
Inez, are we jaded? Have we watched too many crime shows?
It was awfully white.
You know, Im not saying one word about it. None of my business.
Well, if it is cocaine, youd think shed have more money. Inez breathed deeply. This countrys duplicity about drugs is really quite horrifying.
That it is. Well, lets hope we have overactive imaginations. Harry let it go at that.
Smelled terrible, Pewter told them.
Inez stroked her head. You always have something to say.
An apple-wood fire crackled in the fireplace, the distinct fruitwood odor filling the large upstairs bedroom. Years ago, when Harry had upgraded her heating system, she divided the house into zones. She usually kept the upstairs at fifty degrees. Now that she and Fair had moved up there so Inez could have the master bedroom downstairs, she pushed the thermostat up to sixty-five. Because the original part of the old Federal-style house had been built in the 1830s, every room had a fireplace. With succeeding generations and more-modern technology, indoor bathrooms were created. The people who built the clapboard housefarmers, allhad a marvelous sense of proportion and function but making a huge bathroom with a fireplace had never occurred to those folks. Didnt occur to Harry, either, although she hated a cold bathroomhence turning up the thermostat.
At nine-thirty that night, the mercury read thirty degrees and would surely dip into the twenties as the hours wore on.
Both husband and wife cut and split wood throughout the seasons. Splitting a log takes an eye for the grain and a sense of rhythm. Harry loved doing it, and Fair was pretty good at it, too. Little by little over the summer and early fall, theyd filled up the wood house, carefully stacking logs according to type and diameter. Harrys drive for symmetry often made her husband laugh, but he always appreciated the results. He even built a smaller wood house for the fruitwoods alone: apple, pear, cherry, peach.
Tonight, as they sat propped up against pillows, each reading a book and enjoying the view out the windows of an inky-black sky with silver dots of stars, they appreciated just why they swung those axes until they felt as if they weighed fifty pounds.
Pewter had made a nest on Fairs long legs. Mrs. Murphy preferred curling up in Harrys lap. Tucker sprawled in front of the fire, opening one eye when the wood occasionally hissed.
Pewter started to giggle, which sounded like a fluffy cough.
You all right, kitty? Fair stroked her.
Im fine. She giggled a bit more. You look funny in those reading glasses.
If you had to wear glasses, theyd be bifocals, Mrs. Murphy taunted her.
You say, Pewter sniffed indignantly.
Girls. Harry didnt know what they were saying, but the tone of the kitty conversation was not lost on her.
Neither cat replied. Mrs. Murphy pointedly made another circle on Harrys lap and dropped down again.
Cant find a soft place? Pewter raised up one long, long whisker.
Its soft.
Then why did you get up and circle again? Pewter sounded so innocent.
Felt like it, Mrs. Murphy said.
Ha, you did it because youre getting old bones. Next thing you know, your fur will fall out in patches. Pewter giggled louder. Then youll be bald. Ha.
Mrs. Murphy rose, stepped off Harrys lap, reached over, and gave the fat gray cat a swat.
Violent, shes violent. She needs anger-management counseling. Pewter pupils enlarged, and her giggling was really loud.
Hateful! Mrs. Murphy raised her not inconsiderable voice.
Fair folded Lord Kinrosss magisterial The Ottoman Centuries on his chest. All right now.
She started it, Mrs. Murphy grumbled, returning to Harrys lap.
Harry, reading Rowan Jacobsens Fruitless Fall, looked up, folded the book, and gently patted Mrs. Murphy with it. I can do this a lot harder if you dont settle down.
The tiger cat narrowed her eyes. Why are you reading that book? All it does is upset you. Its not bedtime reading, and furthermore, Fatso is the problem, not me.
Ha. Pewter turned her back on Mrs. Murphy.
The two humans looked at each other and laughed.
Fair picked up his book, then laid it down again. Ive been thinking about Terri dropping the expensive jar.
Harry had told him of the days events, that being the strangest.
Yes.
Maybe thats why shes what would you say, tightly wound?
Meaning shes a cokehead?
Yeah. Then again, it could just be sand. But she is jumpy and a trifle erratic.
Thats a lot of people, Harry ruefully replied.
Got that right. But I think there have always been a lot of nervo
us people or gloomy onesnot that shes particularly gloomy. You know me, Ive loved history since I was in grade school. Cant read enough, and what impresses me is how the same basic personalities occur over and over again. Including nervous types.
I never thought about it. Harry was intrigued.
Well, go back to your bee book. He laughed.
To bee or not to bee.
He rolled his eyes. Too easy.
Then why didnt you think of it? She reached over and put her palm on his cheek.
Inez, also in bed with a fire roaring, wasnt a bit sleepy. Instead of a book, she had her laptop. She liked being able to tap in to the latest veterinary advances. She always checked her email. Her great reputation meant that many equine vets asked her questions. Some of them were not about cases or injuries but about horses of the past. One equine vet in Kentucky asked who had the best mechanical motion, Man o War or Citation.
Neither, she replied. It was John Henry.
Such questions were like asking a ballet choreographer who was the better athlete: Pavlova or Fonteyn.
Those questions always sparked debate, but Inez thoroughly enjoyed that because it meant people were passionate. What better to be passionate about than horses?
She hummed as she opened her mail, then stopped abruptly.
A message from Mariah DAngelo read, Catch me if you can.
You dont know from one minute to the next, Aunt Tally, arm linked through Inezs, remarked.
The two old ladies walked slowly to the stone stable not more than a quarter mile from the house. Tallys comment was about the weather. On Tuesday, April 7, the sun shone brightly and huge cumulus clouds, creamy white, filled a robins-egg-blue sky. The forty-five-degree temperature, while nippy, was an improvement over the last few days.
Erno, Doodles, and Tucker tagged along. No little bunnies or fox cubs appeared, as it was too early in the season. Tucker thought the extended cold and snow might have delayed breeding. She had no desire to chase bunnies, but she did wish to herd them. If it had four legs, Tucker knew her job. When she was a puppy shed tried to herd the two-legged creatures but learned how stubborn they were. Occasionally shed be successful in getting Harry to the door, but that was it.
Aha. Aunt Tally pointed the tip of her cane at a crocus not yet open. Theres hope.
Blossom, theres always hope.
I try to remember, but lately Ive seen the shadow of the Grim Reaper fall across my path. Im not ready to go.
Are you sick? Youd better not be. Inezs voice thickened.
Im in rude good health. Tally shook her head. Sometimes the swiftness of death shocks me, though. Flo at her desk. Or I pick up the paper and read about a young person killed crossing the street.
I know what you mean. Inez inhaled the crisp air. Funny, no one ever thinks it will happen to them.
If people focused on it, theyd probably never get out of bed.
Inez sidestepped a puddle, dragging Tally with her. Look at all the businesses going under. People killing themselves over money. Money! Inez watched Erno and Doodles romping. If only we could be more like them.
Aint that the truth. Aunt Tally used aint for effect, as her English was usually quite correct. You havent said anything about Mariahs latest message since you called me last night.
Catch me if you can, Inez repeated Mariahs message on her computer. Whats to say? Shes clearly enjoying herself. But Im sure Liz isnt. She called me. Inez looked at Aunt Tally. Liz certainly gets the vicious ones. Last nights read: I hope you die slowly of strangulation. Thats a bit much, but then, murder is a bit much. Inez sidestepped some remaining ice on the path.
We still dont know if Mariah is Flos murderer. The messages havent confessed to it, Aunt Tally remarked.
Well, no, but there seems little doubt, Inez responded.
They stopped in front of the elegant stone stable that Little Mim and Blair had rehabilitated at no small expense.
The mid-morning sun gave the stone a rosy, inviting warm glow. Each stall had both an outdoor and indoor Dutch door; the top halves remained closed as it was still nippy. The horses had come in to feed. Little Mim, like her mother, Big Mim, and Harry, had grown up caring for horses. She took excellent care of the four in the stable.
Lets go inside. Inez, who had probably seen more stables than any three people together, never tired of studying them.
The dogs preceded them, and Erno let out a yelp. A mouse. I know where he is!
The gorgeous russet dog pounced at a tiny crack in the wood divider between stalls.
Erno, all barns have mice, even if they have cats or Jack Russells. Doodles laughed. You should know that.
Of course I do, the young dog answered, but I am a hunter, you know. If I had to, Id go after a boar.
Lets hope you dont have to, Doodles said drily.
Bred for bird hunting, Doodles wasnt opposed to other forms of hunting but felt they were inferior to his task. He was good at it, too, and could stand stock-still for an hour.
Once inside, Inez whistled. The large brass knobs at the top of the scoop-necked stall openings had been polished until they gleamed. All the brass hardware shone.
The last time I was in here, these were standing stalls, Inez remembered.
Little Mim took out some of the dividers and made six big stalls. When this was built in oh, 1822, that was the fashion, as you know. You tied them to the manger and kept water and feed there, but they couldnt run out. No stall doors. She kept the look but put up the stall doors. Aunt Tally pointed to the floor. They worked on the laid-brick floor, too. Those two have such an eye, Aunt Tally bragged.
They sure do.
Inez, does it occur to you that theres more to Flos murder? Do you really believe a woman as intelligent as Mariah would kill Flo, even though she despised her, to avoid being exposed?
Seems like enough motivation.
Consider this. If Mariah confessed, groveled about her terrible mistake Aunt Tally paused. Did she have a wretched childhood?
I dont think so. Inez looked into her old friends lively eyes.
Okay, she cant hide behind that. She took a deep breath. Eau de cheval, her favorite aroma, filled her lungs. But if she acted contrite, how long would she serve? Three years? Five? And, being smart, shed come up for parole. Apart from the public humiliation, it wouldnt be that awful.
I never thought of that. But if Mariah is as intelligent as we think she is, shed have never sold bogus watches.
True, but greed infects even the intelligent. Maybe more so, because they think they can get away with it.
Youve got a point there, Inez agreed.
Speaking of intelligence, Lizs lightbulbTally tapped her templeis dimming.
Inez replied, Every time Liz talks to Terri Kincaid, Terri carries on. Liz knows shes emotional. Actually, Im not sure Terri is wrapped too tight.
Maybe she has help. Aunt Tally had been told by Inez about the broken jar and the white sand in plastic inside. Makes them jumpy. I remember some of Mothers big parties in the 1920s. Id peep down the stairs. Some people were quite open about a snort here or there. Aunt Tally shrugged. I dont know if its right or wrong. All I know is these days everything is demonized: sugar, cigarettes, etc.
Both Harry and I recognize that we dont really know, but can you imagine anyone not thinking cocaine?
Not these dogs. Aunt Tally turned to leave the beautiful stable. Are you telling Cooper?
No. If were wrong, what a horrible thing to do to Terri. If were right, it will come out in the wash sooner or later.
Right.
They retraced their steps, happy to be in the routine, as were the three dogs, who chased one another.
After a few quiet moments, Inez muttered, Its the damned messages. Why take that risk?
Ego, Aunt Tally responded with conviction, tapping the paving stones with her cane.
Then what else will she do? Inez wondered.
You mean to prove were all too dumb to catch her, especially the poli
ce and, I shall assume, her husband? Shes taunting everybody.
Mariah will have to up the ante, Inez grimly predicted.
Yesterdays sunshine gave way to a low-pressure system with steady rain. Harry finished her chores, hung up her dripping Barbour coat, and stepped out of her work boots. The painted wooden floor of the screened-in porch felt cold to her feet. She stepped into the kitchen, where she peeled off her stockings. The work boots had sprung a leak.
After drying her feet with a towel, Harry knew she should clean out the broom closeta chore shed put off for two years. Its amazing how resourceful a human can be in avoiding an unwanted fox.
She opened the closet door, studied the mops, brooms, cleaning agents, and shelves with cans, jars, brushes.
Pewter, whod opted to stay in the living room rather than help Harry with the chores, heard the door shut. So much for the broom closet.
Mrs. Murphy and Tucker, coming in to the living room to join Pewter, laughed.
Harry found her moccasins with fleece lining, then called out, Where are you?
Were hiding, Mrs. Murphy called back in a high register.
Harry walked into the living room, the fleece feeling so good on her cold feet. Come here.
Tucker did. Mrs. Murphy didnt.
Here. Tucker knew the drill.
Harry took the offered front paw, carefully wiping it dry. You know to wait for me. I dont want tracks all over the house.
Finished with Tucker, Harry walked to the sofa. Gimme.
Mrs. Murphy, already curled up on a needlepoint pillow, turned her head.
I see wet paw prints on this sofa.
Theyll dry, the cat said.
Harry sat next to the beautiful tiger, who didnt move. She carefully wiped her paws.
Think of it as a feline pedicure.
Oh, Mom, Mrs. Murphy replied.
Maybe shell paint your toenails. Pewter giggled.
All you do is giggle. Whats with you? Mrs. Murphy complained.
I could dust these bookcases. Harry put one hand on her hip.
Will you sit down and relax? Pewter grumbled. Why do humans have to make work? I cant stand it.
Cat of the Century Page 13