Рита Браун - Out Of Hounds

“Shall I assume Ross tied one on?”

Bobby smiled. “Is there a Stirling who doesn’t have a hollow leg?”

“Well, there is that,” Betty agreed.

“Sometimes I wonder about Chapel Crossroads. So much has happened there over the centuries.” Sister inhaled the cold air as they stepped out of the church.

“Come on back for breakfast,” Betty invited her. “You never eat before the early-morning service and you know once Aunt Dan has her audience, she will be loathe to let them go.”

Within twenty minutes, part of that time on back roads, they arrived at Cocked Hat, Betty and Bobby’s small home built about the same time as Roughneck Farm got started, 1787. Unpretentious, inviting, it had a warmth that Sister always felt, imagining that it had been filled with centuries of love.

If not, it was filled with love now, for the Franklins complemented each other in good times and bad. Their bond never weakened but grew stronger, deeper. Sister admired them as well as loved them, for she knew their sorrows as well as their joys.

“You sit there. Bobby, fetch our master a cup of English Breakfast, her favorite morning tea. I’ll take black coffee. Just sluggish today.” Betty smacked an old number 5 iron skillet on the range, chatting away as she did so.

“Here you go. Barefoot, as always.” Bobby poured her the tea then started on the toast as he and his wife talked.

“I think so much happened out there at Chapel Cross over time because it’s right up against the mountains. Easy to hide or hide stuff. Neither the Brits nor the Federals could quell the goings-on there, nor can the revenue man from the government. Good old tobacco, firearms, and booze.” Betty giggled. “Must drive those three-piece-suit types crazy to be fooled by what they consider a lower life-form.”

“Deplorables?” Sister slyly grinned. “Ah yes.”

“Here’s the thing,” Bobby pushed down the lever on a huge toaster, “raise a tax, create a criminal, if you think evading taxes is criminal.”

“Depends on the tax.” Sister felt the bracing tea warm her throat. “What else did Margaret say?”

“Only that this is two unsolved deaths in the county in just over a week and Ben is fretting, since now a woman was killed the same way in Lexington, Kentucky. She also said the discovery will be on the late-afternoon news. Maybe by then the body will be identified.

“Ben takes his job seriously. He’s a good sheriff. If you’d asked me when he was hired, I would have been doubtful. Virginia remains Virginia, which means you need to listen very closely to what is being said. Of course, that’s why people from the north think we are hypocrites. They don’t know the code.”

“True,” Bobby agreed. “We learned and so can they.”

“Well, we learned the Ten Commandments, too, does that mean it sank in?” Sister raised a silver eyebrow.

“Too hard.” Betty turned off the flame, scooping her signature omelet onto three colorful breakfast plates.

The Franklins’ Manx cat sauntered in, sat down waiting for a piece of bacon, which he received to thunderous purrs.

“Have you all weighed Roman Bold?” She named the fat fellow, a typefont name.

“Don’t be ugly.” Betty buttered her toast.

“His butt is so big you could show a movie on it.”

“Don’t you fat shame my cat.” Betty pointed a fork at Sister.

“Roman, forgive me. I am an insensitive human,” Sister apologized while Roman devoured the treat. “Have you all ever wondered how we landed where we are now?”

“Plenty. Our problems are the problems of plenty,” Bobby answered authoritatively.

“Honeyman, not everyone in America has plenty.” Betty didn’t argue, simply made a statement.

“I know, but the great majority of our people live very well. Someone of modest means would be rich in Venezuela.”

“Has Central America ever been stable? Guatemala, El Salvador? Those people get battered by the right then the left comes in and it’s nastiness, if not death, from the other direction. Maybe disarray, violence is the human condition. I mean, here we are in one of the most beautiful places in the United States if not the world and a man is found with a lead shank tied around his throat at Showoff Stables.”

“Not while I’m eating,” Betty suggested.

“I don’t mind.” Roman’s ears perked up. “You should see me kill mice.”

Bobby assumed the feline chat was a request for more food so he slipped the cat a piece of his bacon. No wonder Roman was huge.

“You met the Sabatinis. What did you think?” Sister asked.

“Attractive. Rich. But there were so many people at Kathleen’s grand opening, hard to say.”

“True.”

“Delicious, as always,” Sister praised her friend and whipper-in.

“You feed me enough. After walking hounds in the off-season. After working the horses.”

Sister smiled at Betty. “Odd how food brings people together.”

“Yes,” Roman enthusiastically agreed.

“It’s brought us the cat.” Bobby loved his fat cat. “Back to the dead man in the old Gulf garage. He had to know Arthur’s schedule. So I suppose Ben has questioned Arthur, plus Margaret would tell him whatever or whoever she knew. When Binky ran it, everybody out in Chapel Cross took their trucks and cars there.”

“You would think, but the station, although closed, is known to many of us. Also what if the dead man had been driven there by someone who knows the area? Easy enough to do. The old Gulf station is hardly a secret.”

Betty nodded. “Margaret said as much.”

Bobby jumped in. “Why would he be there? Why not just dump him by the side of the road?”

“Parker Bell was killed where he worked. So it’s a bit different, the body at the gas station.” Betty leaned back in her chair.

Sister rejoined, “Who did these men offend? Think about Parker. His forefinger and second finger missing at the first knuckle, an old wound, long ago healed. Ben asked me did I think there was significance?”

“Do you?” Betty wondered.

“I don’t know. They were old, healed injuries.”

“Before I forget, have you picked the dates for the girls’ meet, for lack of a better term?” Betty stood up to collect the plates. “You could change the last week of the season so we could travel. A thought.”

“O.J. and I are working it out with Deep Run, Red Rock, Bull Run, and Big Sky. I much look forward to that. We’re working toward one meet with all hunts. Then in the coming years each hunt will host same. That’s a lot easier than trailering horses to all those separate hunts in one year.”

“Good idea.” Bobby got up, poured Sister more tea while Betty brought some cookies to the table.

“For your sweet tooth.” Betty smiled.

“I am trying to throttle my sweet tooth.”

Betty flicked Sister’s shoulder. “You never put on weight. Eat them all.”

“Oh, great. Sugar gives me such a buzz. I really am trying to cut back.” She reached for a small rich chocolate cookie, popped it in her mouth. “On the other hand.”

They talked hounds, fixtures, people, kept returning to the two dead men, then Sister glanced at the wall clock.

Bobby followed her eyes. “Hey, stay all day.”

“I lose track of time when I’m with you. Need to get back and check on everyone. Gray should be back soon, full of Aunt Daniella’s tales.” Sister brushed crumbs into her hand, rose, and dumped them in the trash can. “My focus is blurring. Too much going on. We’re so close to the end of the season. I’ve got to clear my head.”

Betty and Bobby smiled then Betty said, “I think we all feel that way. Nobody ever knows what tomorrow will bring but things seem especially confusing.”