Cat of the Century

by Rita Mae Brown

  Harrys restraint was thinning. Im out of here.

  You were at William Woods, and you didnt seem the least bit upset by Mariahs disappearance. Thats what Liz said. Terri raised her voice.

  I met the woman once for all of two minutes.

  Terri, sweating and restless, couldnt seem to focus. If anything, she seemed to be looking for a target for whatever was troubling her. Wherever you are, theres a problem.

  I know how to remove the problem. Harry, realizing that Terri was irrational, strode for the door.

  You can get out of my store!

  Harry stopped at the door and turned, her hand on the long push handle. Whatever youre on, get off it. Drink or drugs are a one-way ticket to hell.

  Terri screamed, picked up a small porcelain guinea hen, and heaved it at the door Harry had closed behind her. It hit and shattered.

  See what you made me do!

  That woman is certifiable. Harry shook her head, then got back in her car. She drove west on Barracks Road, which turned into Garth Road, all the way to White Hall, where she turned left toward Crozet. The rain came down steady, but not as heavy. She could see, although she stayed about ten miles under the speed limit. She passed the old apple packing shed that Chuck Pinnell had revamped into his house and workshop for making beautiful handbags, belts, and chaps. She was still riding in a pair of chaps hed made twenty-five years ago. They had been repaired, but it proved her philosophy: Buy the best you can afford, because in the long run, its cheaper.

  She kept thinking about Terri Kincaid going off the rails. She drove past the old Crozet high school, the new elementary school on her left, and turned right just before the railroad overpass.

  Three miles later, she passed the spot where Ralston Peavey had been found. She pulled over and hit her flashers. The Volvo could easily be seen now, but Harry was a conservative driver for the most part.

  She was more upset than she cared to admit. While she did wonder about this old murder, too, Harry wasperhaps without realizing ittrying to divert her mind from the smashed porcelain hen, the screaming.

  Bet Ralston was flat as a pancake, the ever-sarcastic Pewter giggled.

  He wasnt dead for very long when they found him. Tucker had heard about the murder, too.

  How do you know? Pewters tail tip waved slightly.

  Had his eyes. Wasnt dead long enough for the crows to eat his eyes. Birds consider eyes a great delicacy.

  Gross. Mrs. Murphy, fastidious, moved over to Harrys lap to look out the drivers window at the macadam road, which was unremarkable.

  The road had been paved over five times since Ralstons body was discovered.

  Pewter saucily remarked, What do you expect from a creature who eats decayed flesh, a garbage dog?

  Someones got to do it. Tucker defended dogs. Do you know what the earth would be like without dogs and buzzards? You wouldnt be able to move for all the carcasses.

  People have gotten so fat, and there are so many of them that you can hardly move already, Pewter giggled.

  You should talk.

  That fast, Pewter shot over the center console to fling herself on the corgi. Hissing and growling filled the vehicle; raindrops pattered on the roof for counterpoint.

  What in Gods name has gotten into everybody? Harry put Mrs. Murphy on the passenger seat, got out, and opened the back door to grab Pewter by the scruff of the neck. If theres blood in my new car, there will be hell to pay.

  Harry pushed Pewter over the console. The defiant cat, on her hind legs, peered over the passenger seat back to Tucker.

  You sit down, Missy, and I mean now! Harry felt some rain slip down behind her collar, as she hadnt flipped up the Barbour collar.

  Better do what youre told, Mrs. Murphy calmly suggested. Or you wont get supper.

  Pewter immediately sat down, face forward.

  Harry quickly checked over Tucker, who wasnt bleeding. She then got back behind the wheel and closed the door.

  Taking a deep breath, Harry exhorted them, Lets all calm down. She started the motor. I would like to know who killed Ralston Peavey. Who wouldnt? She started driving, then mumbled, I probably shouldnt have told Terri to get off whatever shes on. If someone is loaded or high, I think it just makes the exchange worse. Bone stupid.

  Mom, youre burning more gas, Tucker called out, ignoring Harrys musing.

  She is not, Pewter happily contradicted the dog.

  Is, too. Shell never get the mileage this station wagon is supposed to get, because shes carrying so much weight. You! The dog laughed triumphantly.

  Pewters pupils enlarged, and the fur rose up on her neck and spine. She was ready to fly back over the console.

  Mrs. Murphy whispered, Supper. Dont forget supper.

  Pewter, seething, sat down. Ill get her. Ill get her if its the last thing I do!

  Harry knew the cat and dog were continuing to fuss at each other, but to what degree she didnt know.

  She said to the three passengers, I dont know if I will ever really understand people. Right now Im having a hard enough time understanding you all.

  Harry had no sooner walked into the house than the rain turned to sleet. She opened the door to the outside for a moment.

  Damn.

  Getting bigger. Mrs. Murphy noted that the sleet, which began as a small size, had now graduated to the size of rock salt.

  Pewter slipped in to the kitchen through the animal door.

  Tucker called after her, Dont you want to see? If it gets any bigger, it will tear up everything.

  Ive seen sleet before, Pewter called back, as she headed for the crunchy bowl.

  So jaded, Mrs. Murphy said sarcastically.

  Stay here, Harry commanded the cat and dog. She ran outside, fired up the Volvo, and drove a hundred yards away to park the car in the equipment shed.

  There would be no dents in her brand-new station wagon. Might be dents in her, though. She covered her head and ran, slipping and sliding.

  Once on the covered porch, she whipped off her coat, hung it up, and stepped inside the kitchen.

  Nasty. Tucker listened to what sounded like drumming on the roof.

  Harry went into the living room, threw some logs on what was left of the fire, then flopped on the sofa.

  She picked up The Progressive Farmer, leafed through. Put it down. Next she lifted National Geographic. It met the same fate. As a last resort, she grabbed the monthly magazine Virginia Horse. Slapping it down on the coffee table, she rose and strode into the kitchen. She turned on the stove, setting the stainless-steel teapot on the flame. By the time she poured the water into the Brown Betty and filled it with a lovely orange pekoe, shed flipped through the newspaper on the counter and sorted her mail.

  Finally, she couldnt stand it. She picked up the phone and dialed.

  Thompson and Watson, answered the light baritone voice.

  Garvey, I cant believe you pick up your own phone. Harry was surprised.

  Something to do on a rainy day. What can I do for you?

  Two things. I noticed those lightweight V-neck sweatersyou know the ones, to the right of the front door when you walk in.

  Silk and cashmere. The hand is lovely.

  Will you wrap up an extra-large in the baby blue? I want to surprise Fair.

  Will do. He didnt mention payment, as Harry had an account, and hed known her all his life.

  And one other thing. Youre right next door to Terri. Have you noticed anything weird?

  In what way?

  Terri.

  He cleared his throat. Shes highly strung.

  Highly strung? Shes all over the map. I walked in there today, and she cussed me out and threw one of those porcelain guinea hens at me.

  Ah. A pause followed. Shes been touchy. On top of everything else, business is slow for all of us.

  She cussed you?

  No, but she isnt sweetness, beauty, and light.

  Harry chuckled. Who is?

  You, of course.

  Garve
y, youre exercising that silver tongue.

  Now it was his turn to chuckle. You dont mind.

  I dont. She waited a beat. Look, shes never been close to me, nor I to her. We dont really like each other, but we can be civil. Shes never done anything for me to be ugly to heruntil today, anyway.

  Let it pass, he advised.

  Have you ever noticed unlikely customers going into her shop?

  What do you mean by unlikely? He was intrigued.

  Not middle- to upper-middle-class ladies. Perhaps young men. Perhaps not well dressed.

  Come to think of it, yes. But not hordes. Why?

  Im not but so sure she isnt dealing drugs. To me, anyway, her behavior suggests shes on something, legal or illegal. Im not trying to make her look bad. She looks bad. And I wont tell Cooper.

  I hope youre wrong. Theres so much of that these days.

  And its never going to end. Drugs are as American as apple pie, but theres a tax on the apples.

  Garvey sighed. I think about that, too. The tremendous loss of taxes, which could do so much good. Be the only positive thing to come out of drugs.

  Next Harry called Liz Filmore, since she knew that Liz was close to Terri. She recounted the guinea-hen episode and her thoughts on the topic. She asked Liz if she knew what was up.

  Shes got a lot of inventory sitting in the shop, she broke up with her boyfriend, and shes worried about her position as head of alumnae in Charlottesville. Why, I dont know. Liz took a breath. But thats Terri. She lives to worry.

  Thought you liked her.

  I do came the swift reply. She has her immature moments

  Harry interrupted, something she rarely did, as it was rude. Immature, hell.

  Now, Harry. Shes more emotional than you are, and you dont get it. But her fund-raising skills are good. Shell get even better over time. Shes a businesswoman. She knows how to approach other businesswomen. Shes raised five thousand-some dollars out of a small community of alumnae by her own hard work the year before Tallys celebration. Thats impressive. Shes always eager to learn. Liz took a deep breath. Its possible shes drinking too much or, her voice rose, taking drugs. But I havent seen anything to make me worry. I dont know.

  Ill take your word for it. Harry hoped she didnt sound as sarcastic as she felt.

  A note of anxiety crept into Lizs voice. You arent going to talk to a lot of people about this, are you?

  Liz, what do you take me for? Harry felt indignant.

  Sorry, but well

  Im not a gossip. Harry paused. I reckon Id best steer clear of her store.

  For a little while. Ill talk to her. We get along, and as I said, I like her but I see a side of her you dont.

  You okay?

  Me? Im worried, but Im okay. Liz knew Harry was referring to the board murders.

  That was good of you to visit Aunt Tally and Inez this morning. I know you all had business to do, but given the alum murders, you needed to be with one another.

  Harry felt much better after hanging up the phone. The sleet had passed, and the temperature was dropping rapidly now.

  Grumbling, Harry figured shed better get the evening barn chores done right away, in case it worsened.

  Later, when Fair and Inez returned, the aroma of roasting chicken filled the air. While she finished making supper, Harry filled them in on the days events and her conversations.

  Over the meal of roast chicken, crisp baby potatoes, and a light salad, they talked of her day and of their day, which was better than Harrys.

  That night, the sleet stopped and the temperature was in the low thirties. The cats and dog awakened at 3:30 A.M. The sound of a car motor came right up to the house; a door opened.

  Intruder! Tucker set up a ruckus.

  The back porch door opened and shut, then the car door slammed and the vehicle drove off.

  Mrs. Murphy jumped to the window over the kitchen sink. Same car I saw the other night, Im pretty sure.

  Fearing for Inez, Fair, who had been awakened by Tucker, bounded down the stairs, his robe around him. Harry was right behind.

  Harry, stay back, he ordered.

  He opened the door to the porch and turned on the lights. Hed forgotten the .38 in his haste, but Harry hadnt. She stood behind him. Inez, also wide awake, came into the kitchen.

  Fair stopped to pick up a large porcelain guinea hen. He came back into the kitchen and placed it on the kitchen table.

  A note was attached.

  Harry opened it and read aloud: Sorry.

  What should I do? Harry asked her husband and Inez.

  Write a thank-you, and leave it at that. Inez raised her gray eyebrows.

  None of them could go back to sleep, except Pewter. It was now 4:30 A.M. on Tuesday, April 14. The sleet had started up again, almost like a fine, sharp drizzle.

  And dont go into the shop, Inez advised. Shes not very stable and might lose it again.

  Right. Harry took a deep drink from her teacup. I guess she was ashamed to see me. It sure is weird to drive out to someones house in the middle of the night and leave a present.

  People on drugs are weird. Bet it didnt seem weird to her. Fair figured at this point Terri was off her nut.

  Maybe I should tell Liz. Shes a friend.

  That will just keep the ball rolling, Fair said.

  Well, I talked to her yesterday. Maybe she told Terri to apologize.

  Harry, why did you do that? Fair leaned toward his wife.

  Well, Harry held her cup in both hands. Liz knows Terri well. I thought she might know why Terris acting so strange.

  What did she say? Inez figured it was too late to chide Harry for calling.

  Just that Terris the emotional sort and she recently broke up with her boyfriend. Anyway, shes worried about money. Theres a lot of stuff sitting in the shop. Guess I set her off by not buying one of those hens.

  Honey, youre not obligated to buy anything.

  I know.

  Fair leaned back in his chair. For all we know, Liz is on drugs, too. Its like a forbidden club. Druggies protect one another.

  Harry thought about that. Liz was drunk at the William Woods party for Aunt Tally.

  Inez pursed her lips. No, shes stable. The only time I saw her tipsy was at Tallys do. I think shes okay.

  Fair, knowing his wife well, asked, Harry, who else did you speak to about Terris behavior?

  Harry took a deep breath. Garvey. Hes right next door. I asked if unlikely customers came in to the store. Like young men.

  And? Inez leaned forward.

  He said there had been a steady trickle of customers who he was surprised would be interested in imported French dinnerware. I didnt see the harm in it, she added defensively.

  Garvey can talk, Fair groaned.

  All right, I gossiped, but in the name of gathering information.

  The corner of Inezs lip curled upward in a half smile. Harry, you can put your nose in other peoples business.

  I know, I know. Look, it was a big scene, but by telling Garvey and Liz, I really was trying to find out if Terri is using or dealing. Best to steer clear of those people, especially if they wont go for help.

  Lets talk about something else besides Terri Kincaid. None of us is going back to sleep. Fair was getting irritated.

  Little did Fair know that, within two hours, Terri Kincaid would be all anyone was talking about.

  Garvey Watson kept it slow as he drove through the reluctant dawn to his store at six-thirty. At times, a swirl of fog surrounded him. The fine sleet had turned into a light, steady rain. Usually he took the back road from his house, which had been in the Watson family since before the War Between the States. The Watsons had been free blacks since the early 1700s. The dirt road that went past the farm looped around, and he could connect where Routes 240 and 250 converged. However, there were a lot of spots on that road that could fool you. Waters ran swiftly over it if the creek rose. Even when the creek subsided and the waters were calm, if one was foolish enough to drive
through, the waters would be halfway up the car door before you knew it.

  He peered over his steering wheel, keeping his lights low. All high beams did was bounce off the fog. As the rain commenced again, the windshield wipers stepped up tempo. Garvey loved cars, but he wasnt so much in love with driving by computer. Hed just bought a new Jaguar XFR, the first one to make the dealers lot in Richmond. The 510-horsepower engine thrilled him, while the complicated touch-screen display drove him nuts. The wood and leather in the interior screamed Great Britain, and clearly that was where Garveys taste rested, as evidenced by the high-quality merchandise carried at his store. He even included the classic Fred Perry shirts, not the Ralph Lauren Polo shirts derived from them. He also carried authentic cricket sweaters. Sold like hotcakes. Allied to his good taste was that he knew his market, plus he had received an excellent education at Howard University.

  While trying to see ahead, he thought he saw a large animal lying in the middle of the road, not twenty yards away. He slowed. The speedometer held steady at 30 mph. To go faster in this kind of weather was a death wish. He blinked. Again. The large animal was a human being. He slammed on the brakes, and shot out of that gorgeous machine. As he bent over the supine figure of a young woman, he realized it was Terri Kincaid.

  Oh, no, please, God, no. He checked for the pulse on her wrist.

  None. He held his fingers to her carotid artery.

  Nothing.

  Then he noticed a trickle of blood on the road by her head. There wasnt a lot, as the increasing rain continued to wash it away.

  All he could think to say was Dear God, into Thy hands I commend this spirit.

  He put his face in his hands and cried, then snapped out of it. Now dripping wet but hardly aware of it, he returned to his car to dial 911.

  It wasnt until after he spoke to the dispatcher that he realized this was the same spot where Ralston Peavey had been found.

  Cooper, on the early-morning shift, hit the scene first. After ascertaining that Terri was dead, she put up flares and kept the lights flashing on her squad car.

  She listened to everything Garvey told her. She put on thin latex gloves, turning Terris head just enough to see the entrance wound of a bullet. Slight powder burns circled the wound. Since Terri had lain with the wound side on the asphalt, the rain hadnt washed away the powder burn. Looked like a .38 caliber to Cooper. The exit woundsurprisingly not messywas above the right ear. Terris hair had fallen over the wound, and a small piece of skull had exited with the bullet. Using her flashlight, Cooper searched for the bullet but realized that this would be like finding a needle in a haystack. Locating it would take a team in better weather than this.