Рита Браун - Cat's Eyewitness

"Ah." Brother Frank, in his current state, hadn't remembered Susan.

"He was an old man, a good man. I don't know what we'll do without him. He was teaching Brother Mark how to use all the old tools, how to nurse along old equipment," Brother Andrew said with feeling. "If the boiler blew, Brother Thomas nursed it back to health. If an old joist needed mending, he could fix it using tools from the time this monastery was constructed." This was said with admiration.

"At least he died with Our Lady's face looking down at his." Brother Mark looked about to suffer another paroxysm of emotion.

"Yes, yes," Brother Frank absentmindedly murmured.

"The exertion of walking up here and the bitter cold may have been too much," Brother Andrew announced.

"I'm sorry. Really. I didn't mean to cause trouble, and I cajoled BoomBoom and Alicia into coming up here with me." Harry was contrite.

"Harry, your curiosity—well..." Brother Frank shook his head.

A puff of air streamed from her lips. "I know. I'm sorry."

"We are sorry," BoomBoom said. "We'll leave you in peace."

Brother Frank looked up at Mary's face. "As long as she's crying I don't think we will have peace here."

Brother Mark started to say something, but Brother Andrew quickly put his strong hand on the young man's wrist.

As the three women headed down into the ravine, the cardinal flew overhead.

"It was nice talking to you."

"You, too. Keep your eyes open. I'll be back," Tucker said.

"Your human won't be back up after this," the cardinal confidently predicted.

"You don't know Harry."

Following their tracks, which were already beginning to vanish in the blowing snow, the way back proved easier than the way up to the statue, despite a few slips here and there.

Once inside the cab of BoomBoom's truck, Alicia burst into laughter. "I feel like a kid."

BoomBoom laughed, too. "I know. It was like getting caught in school passing notes."

Harry, who sat by the window so Tucker could look out, squinched up tighter against it. "Brother Frank can just trip on his rosary beads. They should be praying to St. Valerian, the saint you invoke against exposure and snowstorms."

"Harry, you're a cynic." Alicia laughed at her. "Let's go into Staunton. We're already on top of the mountain. Take twenty minutes from here to Shorty's Diner. Time for breakfast."

"I second the motion," BoomBoom, jammed up against Alicia, agreed.

"Me, too."

"Me, too," Tucker echoed.

BoomBoom turned on the motor, letting it warm up for a moment. The truck, wired for phone, beeped as the motor cut on. BoomBoom pressed the number 4 on the numbers by the radio.

"Cool." Harry admired all things technical.

"I programmed in the numbers I call most frequently."

"Who is Number One?" Alicia wiggled her toes as they warmed up.

"I'll never tell."

"Her mother, luxuriating in Montecito, California. Bet you." Harry felt a surge of envy. She wanted this phone in her truck. However, her truck was so old the phone system would be worth more than the truck.

"No." BoomBoom smiled coyly, then a woman's voice came over the tiny speaker, built into the roof lining.

"Hello."

"Alicia, Harry, and I will be at Shorty's in half an hour, tops. Come on. I'll buy you breakfast."

"Wait a minute."

The others recognized the voice of Mary O'Brien, a doctor in Staunton.

"She's checking her book." BoomBoom opened her coat, unwound her cashmere scarf.

"I'll see you there." With that, Mary hung up.

As they pulled onto Interstate 64, heading west, BoomBoom stayed extra alert. Within five minutes they dropped down out of the fog that enshrouded the top of Afton Mountain. Below them spread the incomparable Shenandoah Valley, resting under a low gray cloud cover.

"Did you see that chinchilla coat Mary wore last Saturday?" BoomBoom loved clothes.

"Her mother's. Beautiful. You don't see chinchilla much these days." Alicia petted Tucker, who decided attention was better than looking at the Waynesboro exits.

"I always wanted a silver fox." Harry saw the Wendy's sign flash by, a stop for her in the hot weather. She liked the Frosties.

"I didn't know you were interested in furs," BoomBoom said.

"Well," a long pause followed, "I am, kind of, but my fashion sense is limited."

"Not a fashionista." BoomBoom—who was—said this without sarcasm.

"White T-shirt or white shirts, Levi's 501s, my cowboy boots or winter boots, an old cashmere sweater, and Dad's bomber jacket, unless it's hateful cold." Harry listed her wardrobe.

"You wore those two-carat diamond stud earrings at the Hospice Foundation." Alicia liked Harry. " Very becoming."

"Mother's. Kind of like Mary's chinchilla coat."

"Your mother dressed beautifully." BoomBoom remembered the elegant, soft-spoken Mrs. Minor, nee Hepworth.

"You know that show Queer Eye for the Straight Guy?" Harry asked. "I need Queer Eye for the Straight Girl, except I don't think those boys would exactly get a country girl."

"They would. You have good bones and a great body," BoomBoom complimented her.

"You noticed." Alicia laughed.

BoomBoom blushed. "Sure. I've noticed since we were in first grade and Harry and I were forever competing in every sport there was. I'd win at some, she'd win the others."

"Then puberty hit. You got the big ta-tas." Harry giggled.

"You don't want bosoms out of proportion to the rest of your body," BoomBoom simply replied.

"Look, if you want a wardrobe overhaul, tell me and I'll go down to Nordstrom's with you, down in Short Pump. I'm not going up to Tyson's Corner. Wild horses couldn't drag me up there, especially now before Christmas, but I'll go to Short Pump after the holidays," Alicia offered.

"Thank you." Harry didn't mention that she didn't have the money, although the other two knew it.

Alicia, generous to a fault, was thinking to herself how to help Harry without embarrassing her by giving her the money. She'd find a way, just as she'd sent money anonymously to the Almost Home Pet Adoption Center in Nelson County after running into Bo Newell.

"If I took what I spend on clothes each year and put it in the stock market, I'd be a rich woman," BoomBoom mused.

"You're already a rich woman," Alicia corrected her. "You work for it. You might as well spend it. You can't take it with you. Witness Brother Thomas."

"Did he have anything?" BoomBoom asked.

"Yes," Harry informed them. "He inherited the fifteen hundred acres of Bland Wade land. Monks have the right to private property, to income from their labors. Over centuries this has caused abuses. There have been spasms of reform. But Brother Thomas had money. Don't know more than that." Harry paused. "Hmm, I wonder who else knew—about Brother Thomas's financial condition?" Harry stroked Tucker's ear.

"Don't go off on money." BoomBoom laughed.

Once at Shorty's, Tucker had to stay in the truck. Harry brought her sausages, putting them on the floor on paper towels, although BoomBoom didn't really care. Fussy as she could be about her own appearance, BoomBoom wasn't a queen about her truck. She loved animals, accepting the shedding, the little dropped bits of kibble here and there, wet nose smears, and muddy paw-prints on the windows.

The three filled in Mary about events on the mountain.

"No autopsy." Harry jabbed at her eggs.

"That's not unusual." Mary drank a strong cup of coffee.

"You're a doctor; don't you think everyone should have an autopsy?" Harry prodded.

"Not until they're dead," Mary dryly replied.

"I read, I think it was in the Wall Street Journal, about noninvasive autopsies, kind of like Magnetic Resonance Imaging for corpses," Alicia said. She read five newspapers every day.