Рита Браун - The Tail Of The Tip-Off

"Good." Mrs. Murphy trotted toward Harry, who sat down.

"H.H. sat right there."

"I know that, goddammit!" He saw Tucker, then spied the cats, all working their way toward Harry but on different rows. "Not them. Thank God, we've already combed this place. You'd pollute the site. Do you know that? You could destroy valuable evidence."

"But I haven't and their senses are sharper than ours. Who knows what they'll find?"

"I can hardly wait to put them on the county payroll." His voice dripped sarcasm, but he didn't blow up. In the past, Harry's two cats and the corgi had sometimes turned up clues or even body parts. It was quite strange.

Susan, in an effort to deflect his wrath, murmured, "You must be very tired. We hoped we might be able to help because at least we got a good night's sleep."

He sat down again, defeated. "All right. Harry, come down here. Since you're here, I might as well make use of you."

Gleefully, she returned to Rick, whose badge reflected the light. "Yes, sir."

"Sit down."

Both Harry and Susan sat in the folding metal chairs at the table.

"Tell me what you saw."

Each woman succinctly described H.H.'s death as they saw it. He was in the parking lot, he stared up at the sky, jerked his head straight up, then dropped.

"Anything unusual during the game?"

They both shook their heads.

"All right." He held up his hand. "Now think. Who disliked H.H.?"

"Fred Forrest. He got ugly after the Clemson game. Yelled at H.H."

"Uh-huh." Rick had had this described to him by Fair. "What about a consistent enemy?"

Both women shrugged.

"You mean like someone who got mad over a building? A disgruntled client?"

"Yeah, or what about someone next to the building? You know when he put in that shopping center up on 29 North they were all screaming and hollering." He rubbed his eyes.

"I don't know any of those people, the ones in the subdivision now next to the shopping center," Harry replied.

"Well, I hate to mention this"-Susan's voice was low, conspiratorial-"but he left Anne the day before the game, yet they were back together at the game. Maybe the woman, whom we don't know-"

Harry interrupted, something she rarely did. "Oh, I bet we know her all right, we just don't know her identity at this moment."

"Right. Well, what if she killed him? The girlfriend?" Susan finished her thought.

"Uh-huh." Rick listened noncommittally. "Seems there was a string of girlfriends over the years."

Harry's dark eyebrows shot upward. "Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. Maybe the girlfriend flew into a rage because he backed out."

Rick put his elbow on the table, resting his forehead on his hand. "Now look, you two, we have swept up every crumb, every piece of paper, every sticky gob of bubble gum. I am tired. I appreciate your help, but-and I mean you, Harry, because you're the worst-spare me your interference." Harry started to protest. He held up his left hand. "If H.H. has been murdered, and I won't commit to that until I have those lab sheets, but if he has been murdered, then whoever did this is walking around out there. Whoever it is is an incredibly intelligent person. This was not a crime of passion although passion may have inspired it. This was methodical, well thought out, ingenious, and committed in front of about six hundred people. And no one saw a goddamned thing."

"Or we saw it and didn't know we saw it," Harry, with no intention of obeying the sheriff, replied. She wasn't going to openly cross him but, after all, H.H. had been smack in front of her, one seat to the right. Her natural curiosity was as aroused as her ego. How dare the murderer? "Will you tell us what killed H.H. when you get the lab report?" Harry pushed her luck.

"Don't put your nose into it. Now will you pick up Mrs. Murphy, Pewter, and Tucker and leave me in peace?" he grumbled, his voice low.

"Yes, sir." Harry whistled.

The three walked toward her from their various places, Mrs. Murphy bounding over the seats.

Rick looked down at the three animals, coats shining, in perfect health. "Keep her out of trouble."

"We will," came the chorus, which made him laugh.

He needed a laugh.

As they walked around the outside corridor, Mrs. Murphy complained, "Nada."

"Old food, old smells." Tucker had so hoped she'd find something.

"I didn't find anything except a little trickle of water on the top row. Guess the roof leaks a tiny bit," Pewter said.

"Are you sure it was water?" Mrs. Murphy's whiskers swept forward.

"I'm sure. Like I said, I didn't find anything."

9

Harry, I am not driving you up there." Susan shut the door to her station wagon with great determination.

"Oh come on, Susan, we're halfway there. If you take me home in a snit, then I've got to drive all the way back up 29." She mentioned Route 29 simply by its number.

"I knew I shouldn't have gone into the Clam with you. Now Sheriff Shaw is half-pissed at me and Ned will hear about it. I don't much feature a lecture from him." She sighed.

Ned Tucker, a good and gentle man, would not be thrilled with the news that his wife was meddling.

The animals, in the back, kept quiet. No reason to further irritate Susan.

"Don't you have any shopping to do?"

"Harry, that is so transparent. It isn't worthy of you."

As Susan drove out of the parking lot, Harry sullenly stared out the window.

"Groceries. You always need groceries. There's that expensive delicatessen up there. Expensive coffees. Fresh rutabaga."

"Rutabaga?"

Harry laughed. "Just wanted to see if you were listening."

Susan turned left onto Route 29. "I hate you, Harry. You get me to do things I would never do."

"That's what friends are for."

"Great, then you come home with me and let Ned tear you a new one."

"What a pretty way to talk." Harry smiled, her spirits restored.

"It's the truth. He doesn't get mad very often but when he does, watch out."

"All the more reason not to go home right now." Harry paused. "Ever notice how when you're wiped out you get these weird energy surges, and then there are times when your mind just goes blank? Zero. Clean slate."

"Mine does that on a daily basis," Susan mused. "Children will do that to you." She considered her statement. "It's not so much the big problems, you know, 'Mom, I wrecked the car.' It's the constant interruptions, although I must say with Dan at Cornell I have only one interrupter who interrupts less as she gets older. I don't remember my mother working as hard as I do teaching children good manners."

"It was good to see Danny over Christmas vacation. College is good for him."

Danny, a smart boy, was excelling at Cornell University, but he found upstate New York a lot colder than Virginia.

"He's a man now, although it's hard for me to see that. I mean intellectually I know it but emotionally I think he's my little boy and I am determined, determined not to be one of those mothers who won't let go."

"You'll be cool."

"If you're going to have children you'd better do it soon."

"It just happens. I'm not planning anything."

"That doesn't sound like you. That sounds almost, almost irresponsible."

"Oh, Susan, you know what I mean. Like you don't want to be one of those mothers who cling, I don't want to be one of those women who start blathering about the clock ticking. If I have a child, I do, and if I don't, I don't. Not to change the subject, but do you have any idea who might have wanted to see H. H. Donaldson dead?"

"Sneak."

"What?"

"You just can't stand to talk about anything personal, can you?"

"I just did." Harry's voice rose. "I told you exactly what I thought about having children but what I didn't tell you is I think you are a wonderful mother and I wouldn't be half as good a mother as you are."