Рита Браун - Out Of Hounds

“Better safe than sorry,” Carter announced.

“Aren’t there laws against wearing a face mask except if you’re going to a party?” Alida asked.

“More bullshit. So if someone marches to protest anything and our authorities, who really have no authority, don’t like it, they can identify and arrest the miscreant. It’s bloody stupid.” Sister was heating up like scent.

“Honey, wait and see. No one is saying you have to wear a face mask to hunt but I expect our season will be over,” Gray prudently noted.

She calmed down, surprised that a flash of anger leaked out of her normally tight WASP ways. “You’re right. I guess we will have to wait and see. I don’t think we are a danger to anyone. We’re out here in the country on horseback and we don’t need to have breakfasts after our last hunts.”

“But if nonessential activities are canceled by the governor, in this case the governors are the front line of defense, will you do it?” Carter asked.

“I will. I think it’s a bit much and the thought of all this worries me for the future. How do I know the power won’t go to their heads?”

Kasmir smiled. “As an Indian, I think you can trust your Constitution and your people. If those issuing the orders don’t return to their prescribed duties after this passes, I expect the people will take care of that.” He took a breath. “You do know that India is the largest democracy in the world?”

“I do now.” Carter moved on to give out more masks.

“Let me take this one day at a time. If it really does get awful I will cancel the rest of the season. We can all give thanks that we live in the country,” Sister glumly said.

“Isn’t that the truth,” Alida echoed.

—

On the other side of West Virginia, formerly part of Virginia, rested the magical state of Kentucky. Its governor, Andrew Beshear, dropped the hammer before Virginia.

Catherine Clay-Neal, having finished hunting, rode back to the gallery with Jane Winegardner. Both, fortunately, had grooms today.

“I’ll keep the staff on as long as I can. There’s always work to be done.” Catherine, like everyone, was worried.

Turning down Old Frankfort Pike, the two discussed the abrupt change in everyone’s situation.

“One minute. I’ll park in front. Come on in. I won’t be a moment with the girls.”

The two walked in. Not a soul to be found.

Then they heard pounding, voices from a closet in the rear.

Hurrying to the closet, Catherine turned the knob. It was locked.

“We’ve been locked in.”

“Hold on. I’ll get the key. You stay here with them. Talk to them.” Catherine ran to her desk, opened it, and pulled out museum keys. She ran back and unlocked the door.

Three young assistants blinked, stepped out. Without thinking, the girls hugged Catherine and O.J., who hugged back.

“What happened? Well, first, are you all right?”

Melissa, the oldest, took a deep breath. “We were up front and two men came through the front door wearing those hospital masks. They had guns, herded us back and locked us in. We could hear them. They didn’t touch us, really, but then again, they had guns.”

“Let’s each take a room,” Catherine ordered.

Within two minutes a yell came from the big room to the right of the center hall, which also could serve as a gallery. Catherine was checking the strongbox, which was untouched.

She hurried into the room along with O.J. The light, turned on, revealed the divine painting of Catherine and Dude was missing.

“Oh. Oh, how awful,” Catherine whispered.

“Sidesaddle,” O.J. mentioned. “Awful and bizarre.”

“Let me call the police and then I must call Andre.” She named the painter.

“Girls,” Catherine always called them girls, “we’ll all have to wait for the police. Are you sure no one was roughed up when pushed into the closet?”

“Yes.”

“I can say whoever they were, they knew what they were looking for, as we heard no talk, no searching about,” Melissa said.

“What a beautiful painting. I am so sorry.” O.J. then thought a moment. “Delores Buckingham. Thank God no one was killed.”

“No one was in the way.” Catherine sat down. “Actually, Delores wasn’t either, was she?”

“No.” O.J. sat down, too, as did the assistants, all felt the wind had been knocked out of them.

“You know what I think?” O.J. sat back. “I think Delores knew what this was about. She figured it out.”

“Well, I don’t have a clue.” Catherine breathed out.

“Be thankful for that,” O.J. quietly replied.

CHAPTER 31

March 11, 2020 Wednesday

“I like getting up with the sun.” Sister buttered an English muffin with real butter. “But after we shifted to Daylight Savings Time, it’s getting up in the dark again.”

“The time shifts aren’t made with farmers in mind.” Gray held a cup of eye-opener coffee. “The real point of it is so people will shop after work is over. If it’s dark, people usually go home. That’s why in the fall there is now a delay switching back to Eastern Standard.” He patted Rooster, head right by his thigh. “Everything that’s done regarding time is now commercially driven. Everything.”

“That’s a depressing thought.” Sister pinched off a bit of muffin for Raleigh nudging her thigh.

“Not if you’re a businessman. It’s all money. Mammon. Nothing new.”

“You’re smarter than I am, honey. I remember when I was teaching before I married and right up until RayRay was born. I made little…I mean, before I married Big Ray…but I managed. Sometimes I think I was happier with my little salary than later. Money gives you choices. I really didn’t have many choices, so I was happy. I did okay.”

“Your parents wouldn’t have let you fall between the cracks.”

“No. But I never asked them for a penny. I was too proud.” She had to give Raleigh another bite then looked at her diminishing muffin. “Better make another one.”

Gray laughed. “You can’t help yourself.”

“I remember that passage in Arrian, Second Century AD, where he writes that there was one hound he loved so much he let her sleep with him even though he shouldn’t have spoiled her. I’d rather spoil those I love than not.”

“You do.” He nodded. “You spoil me.”

“Works both ways.” She thought a moment. “Can’t say that I look back on my own life much. I’m too busy living today, but I think my parents were proud of me going out on my own. Granted, I took up a female job, teaching, but it was at the college level.”

He leaned back, stroked his chin while Rooster tried to work him over, so he dropped his hand on the smooth head. “Beggar.”

“I love you.” Rooster gave him a soulful look, which elicited a reward.

“You’re as bad as I am.”

Gray shrugged. “Oh well. But thinking on Mom. Dad died when I was young. I remember him but not all that well. You probably knew him better than I did in ways, but I think Mother was proud of me. Sam broke her heart.”

“He did. I regret that Graziella did not live to see him sober up thanks to you.”

“Thanks to him. He had to do it himself. I paid for it. Drinking runs in the family. I’m careful but I want that scotch every night. I think we’re born not only with talents but predilections. I know Sam carries a lot of sorrow about the pain he caused Mom.”

“He’s a good man. I’ll never forget the day Sam received his acceptance into Harvard. Aunt Daniella had to tie ankle weights on Graziella. It was a great day. I mean, how many black kids got into Harvard?”

“Few. My brother is brilliant. He’s a lot smarter than I am.”

“He is not. You can do anything. Apart from your profession, you can fix things, you’re welcoming to people. You put yourself together.”