Рита Браун - Sour Puss

"Couldn't have been ten minutes. I wasn't that far and I put the pedal to the metal."

"How long do you think Toby had been dead?"

"Minutes. Literally minutes. He had to have been shot just before I reached the barn." He took a long breath. "I pick on you when your curiosity spikes. Now it's me."

"I'm so glad you recognize that." She gloated ever so slightly.

"Something is missing."

"Professor Forland."

"The two aren't connected."

"We don't know that." Harry reached for more cheese.

"True, but say that Toby's murder is exactly what it seems to be: the end result of an ongoing feud, of bad feelings. There's still something we don't know."

"That's not consoling."

"No, it isn't."

Pewter, who had soaked up every word, turned to Mrs. Murphy and Tucker again. "Don't you want to know where I've been?"

"Oh, Pewter."Mrs. Murphy dismissed her.

"All right, then."Miffed though she was, Pewter looked like the cat who swallowed the canary.

24

"I don't know." Big Mim stood in the middle of the quad in front of her old stable, originally built in 1802.

The new stable under construction, its back facing north, was sited at a right angle to the old stable.

Tazio Chappars had designed the new stable so it harmonized with the old, using the same graceful proportions and the same roof pitch.

The 1802 structure, which was brick and painted white, bore testimony to the enduring quality of the materials and the design. Both stables had excellent drainage.

The new one had pipes running underneath to two huge buried holding tanks, four thousand gallons each. Each drain in the new stable was covered with a perforated lid. This kept out much of the debris while allowing a stable hand to lift it and clean it out with a plumber's snake.

The new stable, instead of being infested with wires, had a small dish facing due south so Paul de Silva could use his computer without electricity.

A backup generator was housed in an insulated room that also contained a large hot water heater. A small heat pump for the office would be hidden outside behind the office once construction was finished and bushes could be planted.

The work stall had recessed lights, some of which were heat lamps controlled by a separate switch.

The brilliant design never shouted. The tranquillity of the stable would be further enhanced by the landscaping once the last truck rolled away.

Harry, next to Mim, admired Violet Hill, the stunning four-year-old blood bay that Mim loved.

"You know what you really want to do." Harry thought the filly one of the best movers she had ever seen.

"Mom will tell Big Mim to do what she wants to do,"Mrs. Murphy, resting underthe eaves of the old stable, commented to Press Man, the springer spaniel puppy Mim had purchased to enliven her old, much loved springer spaniel, currently asleep at the house.

The little guy, all of five months, thought Mrs. Murphy hung the moon because she talked to him.

Mim's barn cats hissed and swatted at Press.

Tucker observed Paul now running alongside Violet Hill, encouraging the beautiful horse to extend her trot, which she did.

Pewter, also under the eaves, kept her eye on purple finches eating fennel seed from a feeder hung not far from the barn.

"Paul, thank you. Any more and you'll have completed the marathon." The elegant older woman laughed.

"Anyone else you'd like to see, Senora?"

"No, thank you."

Handsome, tightly built, and light on his feet, the young trainer walked Violet Hill back to the old stable. She would be wiped down, then turned out.

Mim, like Harry, believed horses needed to be out.

"I can't decide." Big Mim crossed her arms over her crisp white cotton shirt.

"If you send her out," Harry meant on the steeplechase circuit, "she may do very well. She has a large heart girth, large nostrils, and a big throat latch. I like that. Makes it easy to get air into those big lungs. But it's a risk to the mind."

"Yes."

"She may like 'chasing, you never know."

"Yes."

"But, as you know more than I, it can change a horse's personality forever. Some can retire to hunt. Others can't do it."

"She could always be a broodmare. There's not that much wolf blood out there." Big Mim named her sire, an Argentine import.

"You'd look fabulous in the hunt field on a blood bay."

A light flickered in Big Mim's eyes. "I've never had one, you know. Not in all these years."

"Blood bays are unusual. A true blood bay."

A long, happy sigh escaped Mim's lips. "I'll hunt her. She's been bold over the small fences here. She loves being outside; plus,we get along. Wonderful smooth gaits. That's good on these old bones."

"You've ridden her, then?" Harry thought to herself how deep the bond ran between a true horseman and the horse.

"With Paul on Toodles. Dear old Mr. Toodles is so calm. I think he talks to her."

"Lucky?"

"Not much. She certainly notices everything, but then, Thoroughbreds do. Saddle-breds, too. They're so intelligent. I can't believe people think otherwise." Mim stopped a moment. "She didn't even shy when a big, red-shouldered hawk flew low over here. Scared me. She stopped, then walked in. I am just besotted with this horse."

"I would be, too," Harry honestly replied.

"I'm so glad you dropped by. I've been wanting you to see her again. Fair's quite taken with her."

"I know. That's one of the reasons I came by. He's talked about Violet Hill so much that I had to see her. I haven't really seen her much since she was a yearling. As you know, Fair is one of her—and your—biggest fans." Harry followed Big Mim as she walked to the old stable. This pleased Mim, because she knew Harry was being genuine.

Wrought-iron benches bearing Mim's colors, red and gold, in a center medallion beckoned.

Mim sat on the long cushion, with Harry next to her.

"Well?"

Harry laughed. After all, Big Mim knew her when she was in her mother's womb. She launched right in. "Toby Pittman was killed with his own gun."

"Yes." Mim knew from Rick as well as her husband about the disposition of the body.

"Fair never heard the shots. He should have heard them."

"True, but he could have arrived just after Hy killed Toby." Mim's logic was strong. "And when the coroner examined the body he found signs of struggle. Marks on Toby's wrist. A smashed finger, as though he'd been held on the ground and his hand pummeled against the earth. He had a broken cheekbone, as well."

"How come Fair missed that? He's observant."

"Toby had on a long-sleeved shirt. And according to Rick his face wasn't caved in. It might have looked like a red mark where he was hit. One other thing: three shots were fired."

"Ah." Harry crossed her feet at the ankles. "Maybe he did get a shot off at Hy."

"They haven't found the bullet. Not on the farm or in Hy's truck. It would help if that third bullet were found."

"Do you think Hy killed Toby?"

"Yes."

The third bullet preyed on Harry's mind. She wanted to find it.

When she did, finally, it nearly killed her.

As the humans talked, Mrs. Murphy, enticed by the chirping, also came out on the lawn.

"/ was here first" Pewter had a territorial moment.

"/ can watch the birds as well as you can."

Up on the bird feeder, the purple finches, who had been joined by goldfinches, eyed the cats inching forward.

"Want to fly away?"the brightest purple finch asked the others.

"They can't get us,"answered a goldfinch.

"/ know. But we could poop on them." The bright purple finch cracked a fennel seed.

"Yay!"the others answered, lifting off the perches as if in fear of the felines, only to circle, then fly over, releasing their contents.