Рита Браун - Homeward Hound

Ben Sidell, in Second Flight, hearing a shot, immediately moved out of the pack to see if he could see what happened. He did. He called HQ for backup.

Weevil, hearing the shot, saw Tootie pursue Dewey. That fast he was flying on Kilowatt. Dewey, chased by two young, superb riders, asked for a bit more from good old Bosco, who was doing his best but the staff closed in. He fired again. Missed again, thanks to the bobbing of Bosco.

Weevil pulled up next to Tootie, yelled. “Go back. I’ll take care of him.”

“No.” She rode right with him.

Realizing he couldn’t hit the broad side of a barn in these conditions, Dewey reached the back side of Old Paradise’s living places. The old sequestered cemetery was there, the tombstones large and showy. He dismounted from Bosco. He knew the land. If he could stop Tootie and Weevil, he figured he could elude the field long enough to disappear into the thick woods at the bottom of the mountains. He’d take his chances in there.

Ducking behind Sophie’s obelisk, he fired again. This time he was close. Weevil, no fear, urged Kilowatt to untapped reserves of speed while Tootie moved up also. As they neared the obelisk they parted, she to the left and he to the right.

Dewey figured he had them. He calmly rested the Smith & Wesson on his left forearm, staying behind the tomb. He heard hoofbeats but figured he had time to wheel and nail them both. Tootie roared up behind him, snapped her whip’s thong around his chest, and pulled. It was enough to throw him off balance. Weevil, now upon him, leaned over Kilowatt’s side, grabbing Dewey by the shoulders. Now both men were on the ground. Dewey, enraged, was large and powerful but not quick.

Weevil, strong although not in Dewey’s class, grabbed his right wrist, trying to get the gun from his hand. Tootie, now off Iota, joined in. She kicked Dewey hard in the face. The pain made him loosen his grip. Weevil had the gun but not Dewey, who rose, trying to run off.

Not even thinking about it, Weevil fired, hitting him in the back of the leg. He dragged himself forward. Weevil readied to fire again when he heard Ben’s voice.

“Hold it, Weevil. I’ll take over.” Ben reached Dewey, who stopped hobbling.

Sister held the field back at the Carriage House.

Skiff and Betty brought the hounds around and waited, knowing Weevil and Tootie would never leave hounds unless it was critical.

Yvonne drove up and would have known nothing if Ronnie, shaken, hadn’t seen fit to tell her. Yvonne drove over the grounds, swung around the back of the house and then the graveyard. She cut the motor, jumped out of the car.

“Tootie. Tootie.” She ran to her daughter, being held by Weevil.

The two staff members clung to each other, tears in both their eyes.

Yvonne stopped.

Tootie, a smile now on her face, said, “We brought him down together, Mom.”

“She got him first.” Weevil released her, shaking a bit, hoping no one noticed.

In the distance two sirens were heard.

“We’d better get back to the hounds.” Tootie pulled herself together.

Aunt Daniella and Shaker out of the car now noted, “Skiff and Betty have them.”

Shaker, not terribly interested in Dewey, no matter what he’d done or why he’d run, bragged. “Some hound work.”

This made Tootie and Weevil laugh. Weevil reached for her hand. She didn’t withdraw it.

“I can’t believe you jumped him when he had his gun leveled at you.”

“But he didn’t. You got him with your whip.” Weevil, relieved, laughed.

“What were you doing chasing him?” Tootie asked.

“I saw him fire at you.”

“You’re both crazy,” Yvonne blurted out.

Aunt Daniella, genuine emotion coming through, looked at the young people, looked at Yvonne. “It’s the Lord’s hands, Yvonne. It always is.”

CHAPTER 39

“An insanity plea?” Betty questioned on Valentine’s Day.

“Standard fare these days,” Gray replied, sitting in the library along with Sister, Aunt Daniella, Yvonne, and Sam.

“Do you think he is?” Yvonne’s voice rose.

Sister, hands folded in her lap, replied, “My experience with Dewey has been good. He helped out if needed, he was reliable in the field, and he never ran with women, at least not as I can tell. So having him confess to murder, I can only wonder if he isn’t insane.”

Sam, more cynical, responded. “Sister, he planned out the murder. Cold-blooded. Then he did things that would make people think the killer was crazy.”

“And Dewey kept saying the killer was crazy,” Gray added.

“To my mind, murder is a crime we all say we abhor, but it has gone on for centuries without much change. This was about money. People kill for money, power, position, and, so they say, love.” Aunt Daniella sipped the wonderful bourbon Gray poured for her over those huge ice cubes.

“And it really was over the pipeline but in a way we couldn’t have imagined.” Sam watched his aunt enjoy her drink.

“Who could have imagined it?” Betty raised her voice slightly. “Who could have thought that Dewey would benefit from the pipeline? We all thought the reverse.”

“It certainly underlines our limitations. We see what we want to see. We go along to get along.” Sam drank tonic water with lime. “Who would think that Dewey and Gregory were in cahoots? The pipeline just stopped real estate sales but Dewey figured out a way to profit with Luckham as a silent partner.”

“Luckham certainly needed to hide.” Gray thought the plan clever. “He knew if the pipeline came through Chapel Cross, land values would tank. Horrible, and we thought it would be horrible to Dewey. But just the reverse. Dewey could buy up the land of disgruntled landowners for a song and turn the land into a housing development for an enormous profit. No way would Crawford sell, no matter what, and Old Paradise as well as Tattenhall Station create almost a state park. That would make living here very desirable.”

“The right-of-way was 125 feet. A developer could plant trees, things to somewhat hide it plus the homes in the development would not be by the pipeline itself.” Sister had heard all this from Ben Sidell. “Plus they’d have those incredible views.”

“Gregory had promised Dewey that the energy prices for the homes in this very high-end development would be extremely cheap. He would ensure that the homes could be serviced by the pipeline. This was a plan that could possibly sweeten the pot for this pipeline and future pipelines. It would divide the public, make the environmentalists look selfish, and get state legislators off the hook as they took their campaign contributions from Soliden.” Gray stood up to fill his drink, checking to see if anyone else wanted anything.

Aunt Daniella held up her glass. “Well, you never know. Dewey couldn’t have predicted that the outcry to preserve Chapel Cross would be so great.”

“What did it was Kasmir and Crawford joining forces to stop it. Then Crawford threatened to find graves and anyone who has had dealings with Crawford knew he would find something, which ultimately he did.” Sam paused. “That’s what I think.”

“The Soliden board was getting nervous. The company wants to start the pipeline now. Years in court isn’t the way to do that and Crawford and Kasmir can afford years in court. So why not change the route?” Sister marveled at how money clouds people’s minds, how they think it will make them happy. “Dewey confessed to Ben that before the field took off, Gregory told him even though it was not yet public, the pipeline would shift south.”

“But Dewey had other developments.” Betty threw up her hands.

“He did but he was stretched thin, too thin. And even though those developments were on the other side of the county or the next county, people were sitting on their hands. Dewey needed money. And this Chapel Cross development would have made him millions, big fat millions even after he paid off Luckham.” Gray had to admit, it was clever.