Рита Браун - Whisker Of Evil

“You don’t know Harry very well, do you?” The square-built man jammed his hands in his pockets. “She won’t be back. She won’t ask for her job back, and you just cost me one of my very best people. She’s never late for work. She’s never even missed a day’s work, and neither has Miranda. You don’t find people like that every day.”

Jerome shrugged. “She was breaking the rules.”

“We’ve got too many rules in this damned country, and you know why, Jerome? So assholes like you can get a job enforcing them. God knows, no one else would hire your sorry ass. Now, if you need your mail, pick it up. Otherwise, get out of my sight before I lose all semblance of restraint.”

Jerome skedaddled out the front door.

Harry slid behind the wheel of her truck, parked at the rear of the small brick building.

“Move over,” Miranda ordered her.

“Why?”

“I’m driving.”

“Why?”

“You’re too upset to drive. I don’t want you to have an accident. Go on, move over.”

It wasn’t until that exact moment that Harry realized how much Miranda loved her. She burst into tears.

“Ah, Mom, it will be okay.” Mrs. Murphy, on her hind paws, put her front paws on Harry’s shoulders.

Pewter licked Harry’s left hand, while Tucker licked her right hand.

“Home?”

“Fair’s.”

Miranda turned over the old 1978 Ford, the V-8 engine rumbling deep, pleasing notes. The old pickup was running on its eleventh set of tires, fourth set of brakes, third clutch cable, and a brand-new exhaust and muffler. Ran like a top.

Within ten minutes, Miranda pulled into Haristeen Equine Clinic.

Harry noticed a white truck with the state emblem on the side. “Miranda, I think the state vet is here. I’d better not bother him.”

Just then the state vet, a tall man, not much more than thirty-four, ambled out and climbed into his truck.

When he drove off, Harry and Miranda walked into the clinic, and Harry no sooner saw Fair than she started bawling.

“Skeezits, what’s wrong?” Fair hurried over to her, calling Harry by an old nickname, wrapping his strong arms around her.

“Quit,” Pewter succinctly said.

Miranda spoke since Harry couldn’t at that moment. “Oh, Fair, that Jerome Stoltfus has opened Pandora’s box. What a mess. He’s got everyone in an uproar, and Pug Harper came into the post office with Jerome. He told Harry the kitties and doggy had to go. For a time. But then I asked him if that wasn’t really going to be permanent when the new building was up. He said as much.”

“I won’t work without my babies,” Harry wailed.

“Are we babies?” Tucker thought for a moment.

“Tucker, she’s upset. We’re her partners and friends,” Mrs. Murphy reasonably said.

“I won’t. I quit. I can’t live like that, Fair. I know millions of people get up, go to offices, sit in front of computer screens, but I’ve only got this one life and it may be kind of a small life but, still, it’s my life. I’m not living like that. I want to be with my animals and I want”—she caught her breath, then said with vigor—“to be outside. Working in the post office was too much inside as it was.”

“I understand.” He held her tight. “Miranda, what about you?”

Alma, Fair’s secretary, discreetly stayed behind the reception desk.

“I quit, too.” Miranda smiled broadly. “Times are changing.”

“Guess they always were. I mean, I guess someone thought that in fifth century B.C.” Harry was recovering.

Alma softly inquired, “Mrs. Haristeen, could I fetch you some water or coffee?”

“Alma.” Harry wiped her eyes. “I would love a Co-Cola. I think I cried myself into dehydration.”

“Come on, let’s sit down.” Fair propelled her to the sofa.

Miranda followed.

“You’ve got patients.” Harry felt guilty.

“My patients are in good shape today.” He sat next to her as Alma handed her an ice-cold Coke and a glass of ice.

She returned to give Miranda one and then Fair.

“Thank you, honey.” Miranda poured the bubbling liquid over the ice cubes, which crackled in the glass.

“I’ll wring his neck. I mean it. I will cut him off at the knees!” Harry was returning to form.

“I’ll snap off his fingers.” Tucker puffed out her white chest.

“Jerome or Pug?” Fair smiled.

“Jerome.”

“You’ll have to take a number and stand in line. You should have heard Tavener on the phone about an hour ago. And you know how Tavener can talk. I think he’ll put a contract out on Jerome. Said he wasn’t worth going to jail over but he needs killing just the same.” Fair laughed.

Harry took a deep breath. “Miranda, I’m sorry I got you into this.”

“Actually, you didn’t. I’ve seen enough of the post office. George was frugal. He left me enough to garden and put gas in the car, visit my sister once a year. It was time for a change.”

A wave of fear washed over Harry. “Oh, my God, I’ve got four mares to feed plus my guys.”

“Half those mares are mine. Now, look, don’t worry and don’t do anything rash. Everything’s going to work out.”

“I’m not going back.”

“I didn’t say that you were. And,” he smiled, “there will be four well-bred yearlings to go to the sales next year, God willing. Everything’s going to be all right.”

“God bless Sugar Thierry.” Miranda sighed.

“What was going on with Tavener?” Harry’s curiosity flooded back, pushing out her upset.

“Media. As the senior vet, the television crews from Channel Twenty-nine, Six, and even one from D.C. have camped out on his doorstep. After leaving him, they plagued Hayden and Bill. The problem with TV is they can edit out the important material and go for the jugular. Tavener, Hayden, and Bill aren’t going to fan the flames of panic. People will go out and shoot any stray animal they see and, for all I know, one another. I know everyone’s been reasonable and responsible, but it scares me how it will come out on the tube.”

“Aren’t you due for another rabies shot?” Miranda asked Harry.

“Next week.” Harry finished off her Coke, the caffeine and sugar improving her mood. “Fair, thanks. I’m sorry to barge in. Thanks, Alma,” she called to her.

“No problem.” Alma stood up from behind the reception desk.

“Think you’ll help out Pug?” Fair cleared his throat.

“Well, it’s never good to storm off like that. I should give notice but I can’t take the kids. So I’ll call him. I can give him some names and—well, he has them, anyway, people who can fill in. But I’m not going in.”

“Okay.” Fair nodded.

“And I won’t, either,” agreed Miranda. “All the years I gave that post office. George was named postmaster in 1962. And you know, I enjoyed it and I was so glad to come back in when Harry took over after George’s death. But I meant it when I said times are changing, and I suppose every person has to decide whether to change with the times or not.” She placed her glass on the coaster. “It’s time for me to do something different. I’m like Harry: I think things are too overregulated. When you think of the time we all waste on nonproductive labor, it’s amazing anything of significance ever gets accomplished.”

“Amen,” Alma called from behind the desk.

“Honey, I’ll come over after work tonight. I’ll bring sushi,” Fair told Harry.

“Hooray!” Pewter leapt up on the coffee table and turned a circle.

“Okay.” Harry brightened.

Miranda drove Harry to her farm, then stayed there to garden while Harry painted her shed. She’d built scaffolding, which speeded the process since she could walk from end to end at the top. The bottom half she could paint while standing on the ground. She liked painting, because she saw an instant result. This instant result was gray since she was methodically putting on primer.