Рита Браун - Scarlet Fever

“Yes, it is. Bainbridge has no arrest record but he did say he spent time in rehab. One of those expensive ones.”

“I suppose it worked. He’s switched from cocaine to legal drugs. Maybe that’s progress. He’s doing business with a better class of dealer.”

Ben, crossing one leg over the other, shrugged. “Says he’s not hooked but he found the pills and why not?”

“I don’t believe it. You know neither Drew nor Morris ever showed signs of addictive behavior. Morris had a very good mind, which we all figured is why he was so hard on his son. Bainbridge wasn’t a stupid kid but he wasn’t brilliant. Morris couldn’t understand that.”

Gray came up, smiling. “Do you need to be saved?”

“From Ben? Never.” She smiled back then looked at the group around the stove. “But I think Weevil does.”

Gray nodded, headed toward Weevil, Tootie, Shaker, Betty, and Skiff.

“Those staff discussions can go on forever. How is Shaker, by the way?”

“Oh, Ben, he’s healing, but the vertebrae remain a little crooked. The doctors want to straighten them out, perhaps even place a small pad there, but Shaker says no one is going to cut into his neck.”

Ben pressed his lips together. “I can understand that.” He noticed Drew in deep conversation with Freddie.

“The other thing, Drew came to the hospital then called on me to ask if we were going to press charges. Because of the silver and the drugs.”

“And?”

“I looked at him and said, ‘It’s your silver.’ ”

“Ah,” she murmured.

“He won’t press charges. He said he would pay any bills and he also promised he would send Bainbridge back to rehab. Morris originally sent the kid…well, he’s not a kid anymore…years back but Drew said he would do it now. Said sometimes a person has to repeat these things and he’s right about that. It’s not one size fits all.”

“Do you impound the silver?”

“I suppose I should, but no, I gave it back to him. Had the Taylor crest on it. But you know, it does seem odd that a thirty-two-year-old man would steal his own family’s silver, drive off the road, and stay put. Yes, he was loopy but he could have run.”

“Does. It’s the curse of our time, drugs. Well, if I hear anything, I’ll tell you. As I said, father and son about hate each other and I can attest to the fact that Drew is not impressed by his nephew. However, he’s trying to help.” She, too, noticed him chatting up Freddie. “Never misses a pretty girl.”

“Are you sure I can’t get you another drink?” Ben asked.

“No, thank you.”

They both rose and walked closer to the stove.

“I’m telling you the pink slips will fly, or fall like those raindrops outside,” Freddie Thomas, an accountant, predicted to Drew.

“The banks will be clever,” Gray, who had joined the conversation, offered. “They’ll promise no one will lose their job then start the contraction process maybe a year later,” he added.

Drew nodded. “Never fails.”

The group knew that Gray had been a partner at one of the most prestigious accounting firms in Washington, D.C. A firm that was often called in to examine government department records, so their name spread fear as well as confidence.

Kasmir, a good businessman, having made great sums in India with his pharmaceutical business, also agreed. “It’s the way business is done now but I thought the merger would be with a Southern regional bank and, say, Chase Manhattan. That would give both banks in the merger a wider geographical presence.”

“This is what I don’t understand.” Sister held her hands toward the stove. “The Dodd Frank Act was to clean up banking, right? And banks are now bigger than ever. The community banks paid the price. Or so it seems to me. Big, big, big.”

“And accountable to whom?” Freddie held her hands palms upward. “I am not anti-bank. I believe banks are a pillar of the economy, but not as they are today. On the one hand, they’re hogtied thanks to the mortgage crisis of their own making. On the other hand they keep merging and are now so big, Congress fears them despite blabbing to the contrary.”

Everyone started talking at once then Sister said, “We should all move our money to Chase Manhattan in New York.”

“Why?” they asked.

“Well, the late Mrs. Jeffords owned Count Fleet, a very great horse. Foxhunters should always support horsemen. Even if Chase is no longer guided by equine wisdom, let’s give them a chance.”

They laughed, ate more, talked more. Turned a rainy day into a happy day.

Mr. Nash could smell the food. He wasn’t all that far from the old hay shed. Why didn’t they go home? Humans always left food. A Virginia ham biscuit and a moist pound cake would be perfect on this wet day.

Humans were slow, insensitive to the vulpine palate, and noisy, so noisy. However, they could cook. That was worth something.

CHAPTER 4

February 25, 2019 Monday

“Lascivious.” Harry ran his hand over the burgundy leather surface of the Louis XV tulipwood desk.

“Yes, it is.” Sister took a step back to admire the desk, a minor work of art, really. “I will never know what happened to Uncle Arnold’s desk.”

“Which is why I wanted you to come and see this one.” He guided her to the desk, pulled open the center drawer using the gilded ornate handle, a key slot above it.

Sister inhaled the odor of the wood and leather. “You are tormenting me. So you know, I purposely did not mention anything to Gray. Why weren’t you at the hunt Saturday, by the way? He and others asked about you.”

“Annapolis. Allaire Ritter wanted me to give a ballpark figure for some of the family pieces. You know Allaire, hunts with Fair Hills in Maryland. I don’t know as she has any intention of selling but I gave her my estimates as well as dealers in New York City. She wanted to make sure she connected to the upmarket best.”

“Well, in a city where a tiny flat rents for about fifteen hundred a month, that would be the upmarket.”

“Sister, that rental would only get you an apartment in a so-so neighborhood.” He shrugged. “Insane.”

“Is there a way out of these exorbitant rents in our big cities? People need to live there for the jobs, or they’re drawn by ambition. While I think rent control a possible answer, how can that work if those civic worthies whether city or state keep raising taxes? You have to be able to raise rents to cover costs. Heating alone will kill you.”

“I know. I also know we have it pretty good here in Virginia. Richmond, Norfolk, Virginia Beach are very affordable.” He smiled. “Not Northern Virginia.”

“Occupied Virginia.” She laughed. “How is Allaire? I haven’t seen her in a year or two. I’d run into her when hunting at Green Spring Valley. She always had good horses.”

“Fat as a tick.” Harry laughed. “Naturally, she has no wrinkles.”

“You are wicked.”

“I suppose it beats a face-lift. Aren’t you surprised by how many men now undergo face-lifts?” He raised a steel gray eyebrow.

“No. Getting old is a sin.” She laughed. “Dying is un-American. What can we do?”

He laughed with her. “Say the hell with it and go on. Now, Madam, what do you think of this desk?”

“Sensuous. I think the marquetry so graceful. You know, well, of course you do, I love Louis XV.”

“Because you are a woman of exquisite taste.” His eyes sparkled. “Actually I love it, too, although my area is really eighteenth-century English furniture, with a smattering of French. But what draws me to this period is their innocence. No one saw the clouds building on the horizon.”

She thought about that. “They were too busy indulging themselves. But speaking of those clouds, that’s one of the things about Louis XVI. That furniture, the black and the gold, very dramatic and the straight lines. It almost prefigures Art Deco in the structure, I mean the basic structure. I admire it but I truly love Louis XV. Oh, why am I babbling on about this?”