Рита Браун - Whisker Of Evil

Harry, while listening to the prayer, saw Carmen Gamble step out of a squad car, high heels first, dressed in black. No one else saw her, as all were focused on the graveside service. Slowly Carmen began to walk up the rise to the site. She cast her eyes up toward the ridge, toward the high pasture where these whitened bones had been found. Harry remembered Tucker with the thigh bone, and then it hit her: She didn’t know where the other bones were found, because she, Fair, and Susan had been sent back when Rick arrived. Tavener had said at the post office, “At the corner of the stone wall.” She blinked, tensed, then shouted, “You! Tavener, you killed Mary Pat!”

The shock of Harry Haristeen disrupting a sacred moment was quickly replaced by the sight of Tavener Heyward pushing Harry into the grave, then jumping in after her. With his right hand he pulled a small, flat handgun from his inside coat pocket and put it to her temple as he collared her, his left arm around her throat.

“Everyone get out of here!” Tavener bellowed. “Now!”

Fair moved toward the edge of the grave. “Let her go. Take me.”

“Get out, Fair, out , or I will shoot her right now. After all, she’s in the grave,” he snarled.

“So are you,” Harry choked out.

Tavener jerked his left arm harder so she couldn’t speak. “One, two, when I get to three, this nosy bitch will be dead unless all of you run—and I mean fly—down to the house.”

Alicia paused as she backed away. “You’ll go to hell for this.”

“I’ll have lots of company,” Tavener coolly replied.

Mrs. Murphy had climbed the tree on hearing the first commotion. “Pewter, stay on your side! Tucker, come with me. We’re going to the grave site.” The tiger cat had also seen Carmen Gamble walking up the hill.

“Why?” Pewter was still mad at the tiger cat.

Mrs. Murphy didn’t even back down the tree. She leapt off the branch. “No time to explain.”

Pewter overcame her pique. Something important was happening. She needed to be there.

Since the humans were slipping and sliding down to the house, the animals didn’t have to navigate through them. Within seconds both Tucker and Pewter saw Harry in the grave, gun to her temple.

Mrs. Murphy and Tucker moved up behind Tavener. Pewter headed straight for him.

Tavener loosened his grip on Harry, who gasped for breath as she tried to step back, staggered, took another small step back. He noticed the gray cat barreling for him but thought nothing of it. He didn’t hear Mrs. Murphy and Tucker behind him, because Harry made harsh rasping noises as she gratefully sucked in air.

Without conferring with one another, each of Harry’s friends knew what she had to do.

Pewter soared off the edge of the grave site. Mrs. Murphy did the same from the back. Tucker, paws spread out, legs stiff and straight, slid down.

Pewter hit Tavener on the chest before he had time to react. He pointed his gun away from Harry’s head to shoot the brave gray kitty, but Mrs. Murphy landed on his head, claws sinking in his face. Harry, using her high heels, stepped on his foot with all her weight.

Tucker, now in the pit, ran at him as hard as she could in such a shortened space. She slammed into the back of his knees. He buckled. His rib cage hit Mary Pat’s casket edge. Harry heard the crack.

Harry leapt on him, grabbing his right wrist, while he clawed at her with his left hand.

Tucker immediately bit Tavener’s left hand. The intrepid corgi wouldn’t let go.

Mrs. Murphy and Pewter, clawing and biting his face and neck, spattered blood everywhere.

Cooper, using trees and shrubs as cover, was sneaking up from the house. She saw her chance. Sprinting to the grave, she trained her service revolver on Tavener. “Harry, I’ve got him.”

“Not until I get the gun, you don’t,” Harry hoarsely replied, fighting like mad to break his fingers.

Blood flew everywhere. From Tavener’s face, from his left hand, from Harry’s face where he’d managed to dig his nails into her flesh.

Fair, running harder than he’d ever run in his life, reached the edge of the grave and launched himself in. He closed both huge hands around Tavener’s right hand, then snapped Tavener’s arm over his knee. The gun fell to the ground when the forearm broke like a matchstick.

Harry, exhausted, rolled back against the edge of the grave. Fair picked up the gun, tossing it to Cooper.

Harry reached for her cats and dog. She couldn’t speak. Fair understood and lifted out Tucker, then gently placed Mrs. Murphy in Harry’s arms while he held Pewter.

Tavener moaned, struggled to his feet. Fair placed Pewter on the edge of the grave, walked over, and kicked Tavener so hard he went down face-first, spitting teeth.

“I’ll kill you!”

“Fair, leave him,” Cooper firmly commanded.

Fair, eyes wild, advanced on Tavener.

Harry managed to choke out, “Don’t,” as she put Mrs. Murphy at the grave’s edge and climbed out herself.

“Come on, Fair. Think of the legal fees,” Cooper sarcastically said, while the animals looked on.

With tremendous effort, Fair backed away. He was shaking so hard that Mrs. Murphy was afraid he’d come apart at the seams.

Bill Langston, Blair Bainbridge, and Paul de Silva were next on the scene. Paul and Bill jumped into the grave.

Blair stood over Tavener just in case. Cooper, immobile, never took her gun off him.

Fair swung out of the grave, then broke down, sobbing, “I thought I’d lost you,” as Harry put her arms around him.

Tucker leaned against Fair’s leg as Pewter rubbed his other leg. Mrs. Murphy rubbed against Harry’s leg.

Pewter walked to the grave, looked down at the crumpled Tavener. “Humans are no match for cats,” she taunted him, then thought a moment and added, “and corgis.”

It was then that the stunned humans, coming back together, saw Carmen Gamble in their midst, shaking a fist at Tavener.

“Scum!” Carmen spat.

52

M ulticolored Japanese lanterns waved over the quad at St. Luke’s Church on July 17. The thirtieth anniversary of the Reverend Herbert C. Jones’s ministry brought out everyone to honor the good man. Given the recent events, it felt like a new beginning. Better times were ahead.

Herb had been given many presents, but his favorite was the big hand-painted sign of Cazenovia and Elocution with halos over their heads.

Speeches made—Herb’s being particularly touching—the celebrants settled into wonderful food, ice-cold drinks, and spicy conversation.

Mrs. Murphy, Elocution, Pewter, and Cazenovia lazed on the podium now that the humans had vacated it. The cats liked being above everyone.

Tucker remained at Harry’s round table, along with Fair, Susan and Ned, Cooper and Miranda, Paul de Silva and Tazio Chappars. Since Brinkley remained at the table, too, Tucker enjoyed some bracing dog talk. Carmen managed to sit through the speeches, but the minute they were over she was table-hopping.

Big Mim, Jim, Aunt Tally, Alicia, Little Mim, Blair, and Herb sat at the table next to Harry’s. These tables were up front by the podium.

The recent uproar dominated conversation.

“Rick is really good. He could be police chief in a big city if he wanted to.” Cooper praised her boss, also at the party. “For five days we couldn’t crack Tavener. He wouldn’t open his mouth. You know how Rick finally cracked him?”

“No,” everyone replied.

“He brought in a photograph of Tavener’s mother. All he said was, ‘She didn’t raise you to kill people.’ That did it. He gushed like a fountain.”