Рита Браун - Sour Puss

Harry noticed both Toby Pittman's and Arch Saunders's trucks parked in the lovely large square at the front of the stable.

"Wonder what's up," she said out loud.

"Yeah, none of those guys want Thoroughbreds. Arch can't ride."Mrs. Murphy eagerly waited for Harry to turn off her motor.

The moment the motor was cut, Harry opened her door. Before she swung her leg out, the cats bounced on her lap then to the cobblestones. They flashed into the stable before even Max knew they were there.

"Ignore them."Tucker waited to be lifted out.

"/ do," Max replied as he walked forward to greet Tucker.

Harry, who had called Alicia beforehand, checked around outside, then entered the barn. She walked to the office, where paneled walls were covered with gold-framed photos of Mary Pat Reines: in the hunt field; over fences at Keswick's Horse Show, Deep Run's Show, Devon; photos of her horses winning conformation shows, her steeplechasers in the winner's circle. There was one photo of a twenty-two-year-old Alicia in informal attire at a foxhunt.

Arch Saunders and Toby Pittman sat on the newly covered sofa while Alicia sat opposite them in a club chair, a scarred coffee table between them.

"Alicia, I can come back." Harry realized this was an impromptu gathering, because Alicia said she'd be alone. When Harry had called, Alicia raved about a colt she had by Distinctive Pro, a New York sire, and a filly by More Than Ready, standing at Vinery Stud in Kentucky.

"Come on in."

The men stood as Harry entered, then sat when she sat in the other club chair.

Toby returned to his subject. "He means to destroy me. All of us."

Arch grimaced but kept his mouth shut.

"Have you spoken to Sheriff Shaw?" Alicia calmly inquired.

"He won't listen to me. That's why I came to you. Everybody listens to you and to Big Mim. But Mim's mad at me. You talk to the sheriff. Get him to investigate."

"Why is Mim mad at you?" Alicia asked.

Toby distractedly tapped his knee with his forefinger. "I told her she was making a big mistake in not turning some of her land into vineyards. And I said with her wealth she could be a big player early."

"And?" Alicia knew there had to be more to the story.

"I told her that Patricia and Bill were so powerful they'll be like Nelson Bunker when he tried to corner the silver market. She said Patricia and Bill weren't like that. If they were they wouldn't have driven Professor Forland to visit other vintners."

"That's true, Toby." Alicia wondered why Toby couldn't exercise the minimum of diplomacy.

"Things were going along okay until then. I gave her my theory about Professor Forland's disappearance. She said I should be careful about making false accusations and I called her a rich bitch."

"Harry, Toby thinks that Hy plans to ruin his vines. He said Hy sent Concho to spy on his place."

"Hy knows a lot. He's smart enough to cover his tracks. He'll have the best vineyard in Virginia by ruining the rest of us!"

"Arch, you haven't said anything." Alicia smiled at him.

"Hy is very knowledgeable." Arch retained noncommittal.

Harry wondered what Arch was doing here with Toby.

"Guys, forgive me, I don't know so much about growing grapes. If Hy wanted to harm your vines, how would he do it?"

"Simple!" Toby's eyes blazed. "He'd sneak into the rows, dig up a vine, and plant an infected one. Could be infected with anything. God knows, there're enough diseases to go around. But all he has to do is introduce diseased stock. You know, Arch has some downy mildew."

"Hy dug up vines with black rot." Arch tried to introduce this as a counterweight to Toby.

It was, but Toby, too upset to appreciate it, launched off the sofa and stood up. "Ha! He put that there himself to throw us off!"

"I see." Alicia maintained a calm tone.

Arch spoke again as Toby dropped back so hard into the sofa that Arch bounced up slightly. "There's bad blood between Hy and Toby. Hy could introduce infected stock or insects, but I don't think he would, because it could backfire."

"What do you mean backfire? He would bring me down." Toby gripped the edge of the sofa cushion.

"He might bring himself down, too." Arch kept his eyes level with Alicia's. "Hy knows that one mistake, one spore on his pants leg, and he risks his own vines. That's why I think his revenge—if he really is planning to do something—will be in a different form."

"Like what, for goddamned example!" Toby raised his voice, then lowered it. "Sorry, ladies."

"That's all right, Toby. This is unsettling. After all, your livelihood could be in jeopardy."

"Like what?" Toby tried to sound reasonable.

"Well," Arch measured his words, "Toby, you can't do anything but worry about Hy, at least that's how it looks to me. So as I see it, he's winning. Your mind is not where it belongs—on your vines, on your business."

"Hard not to worry when he killed Professor Forland."

"Toby, you don't mean that," Alicia blurted out.

"Yes, I do. Professor Forland was on to Hy. He knew he was intent on ruining me." Toby offered no explanation as to how Professor Forland could know this, but then Toby, seemingly irrational, was not asked for one.

The humans were quiet for a moment, since no one knew what to say to this ludicrous accusation.

As the humans talked, Mrs. Murphy and Pewter ran the length of the stable, leaping up at the barn swallows, who swooped down to bedevil them. Great fun that it was, it became tiring.

The two cats repaired outside to take a sunbath, the mercury hovering at sixty-five degrees with not a hint of breeze. The skies, robin's egg blue, arched over a perfect spring day.

"Look at those stupid dogs,"Pewter sniffed.

"Better hope it's a cast-off shoe, or someone will pay."Mrs. Murphy wondered how any self-respecting creature could sink his jaws into one end of a shoe and tug while the other dog did the same at the opposite end.

The growling sounded ferocious.

"Ha!"Pewter laughed, because Max had dragged Tucker, who refused to release her grip, across the cobblestone walk.

Never one to lay about, Mrs. Murphy roused herself, stretched, then shook. She sauntered to Arch's truck; the window was open, but that was a higher leap than she cared to make. She knew she could do it if pressed, but no one was chasing her, nor was there anyone for whom she could show off. Instead she leapt onto the hood to peer into the interior. Then she jumped up on the cab top, leaned over to slide into the open window. Tricky, but easy for her.

His captain's chair was empty. A nice pair of sunglasses rested on the dash. The passenger seat overflowed with notebooks, soil maps, a tin containing small vials for soil samples, a laminated page with pictures of insects. A worn leather vest lined with fleece had slid onto the floor.

Nothing interested Mrs. Murphy there, so she hopped back to the hood, then to the ground, and jumped up on Toby's new green Dodge to look through the windshield. His interior, pin-tidy except for mud bits on the driver's floor, offered no tidbits. She had hoped for some Fritos or even a sandwich. The center armrest was pulled down. She repeated her feat of going from the cab top into the wide-open window.

Pewter lifted her head to watch. Curious, she sat up.

"Hey,"Mrs. Murphy called. "Come here." She had popped up the lid of the armrest.

Pewter walked over. "What?"

"You gotta see this."

Pewter measured the distance to the truck's hood. Her rotundness crossed her mind. She might be able to jump on the back bumper, haul herself into the truck bed, then jump onto the cab hood. This lacked appeal.

"Open the door."

Truck doors were easy pickings for a smart cat. Mrs. Murphy pushed forward the latch, then pushed open the door. The bell announcing the door was open while the keys were in the ignition started ringing.