Рита Браун - The Tail Of The Tip-Off

"I see. A woman scorned." He watched as she reached for another one. "Honey, why don't you let me order an extra plate of fries?"

"Because I'll eat every single one and I can pack on five pounds in the winter looking at food. But oh, it's so-o-o good."

"Our bodies have more wisdom than we do. We're supposed to be heavier in the winter. Insulation. Our food supplies ran perilously thin in winter before we knew how to preserve food. We needed every fat cell we had."

"Ever think about the difference between people from warm climates and those from temperate climates? People in the tropics reach up and grab a fruit. There is no tomorrow. But people in temperate climates have to plan ahead because of winter. History of the world right there. If you plan ahead for food, it's not such a big jump to planning ahead to conquer other people."

"Harry, I never know what's whirring around in that brain of yours."

"I read that but it does make sense. And what people drink: warm climates, wine; temperate climates, beer; cold climates, hard liquor. That's what they could make based on what they grew. You with your Swedish blood could drink us all under the table if you were so inclined."

"That's what undergraduate days are about. I'm surprised I'm not dead. Sometimes I think about the stuff I did when I was a kid." He broke into a toothy grin. "First off, why wasn't I killed on the road? Then, why wasn't I shot? Or kicked in the head by a horse? But I came to my senses and began to practice moderation the day I entered vet school. You, on the other hand, were ahead of me there."

"My parents would have skinned me alive. Oh hey, here comes Herbie."

The Reverend Jones walked in, waving to them.

"Come on over." Fair stood up.

"You two are finishing. I can't intrude."

"You are never an intrusion. We were considering dessert. Please join us." Fair pulled out the chair.

Herb sat down, happy to be among friends. "Susan said hunting was wonderful today."

"The earth was a little warmer than the air. It exhaled, so to speak." Fair smiled. He enjoyed studying the mysteries of scent and that's what they remained, mysteries.

"How about that article in the paper today-about H.H.?" Herb cast a swift stern glance at Harry, one unnoticed by Fair.

"We will be overrun with theories." Fair looked up from the dessert menu.

After the waiter took Herb's order and Fair's dessert order, Fair said, "Has anyone thought about the Republican Party? H.H. was county chairman."

"Ah-" Herb pressed the end of the spoon bringing up the bowl of it. "Good at it, too. Young and full of conservative zeal minus the social agenda. I don't know what they'll do, although if they're smart, really smart, they'll draft Tazio Chappars for the job."

"Tazio?" Fair considered this. "That would be brilliant."

"With Ned considering a run for the State House, the Republicans need young leadership to create excitement. Ned will be a strong candidate. Tazio might be able to attract a new, vigorous element into the Republican Party." Herb, keenly political, enjoyed the elections the way some folks enjoy chess.

"Susan mentioned people were very supportive." Harry knew she'd get sucked into all this and she so hated politics.

"Charlotte's down with the flu." Herb brightened when his rib-eye steak sandwich was put before him. "Just what the doctor ordered."

"Better take one to Charlotte then," Harry teased him.

"I tell you what, you don't know how good a secretary she is. These last two days I've answered phones, sorted the mail into must-do, can-wait, and throwaway piles, checked the office supplies. I'm low on everything plus I've had to fiddle around with the rescheduling of the carpets. They swore on a stack of Bibles, and to a pastor, too, that they would be at the church doors at eight A.M. on Tuesday. I think I'd better send Hayden McIntyre over to Charlotte's. I need her!"

"Did you send her flowers?"

"Yes." Herb smiled at Harry as he bit into the delicious sandwich.

"Anything I can do to help? I'm off this weekend. Zack's on call." Fair shared on-call duties over the weekends with other vets. It was a good system, otherwise no equine vet in Virginia would ever have a weekend off. Horses seem to watch the calendar, being careful to injure themselves over the weekend, preferably very late at night.

Tazio Chappars came in. "Hey," she called when seeing them.

"Sit down." Fair stood up.

"No, please sit, Fair. I can't. I've got Brinkley in the truck. I don't want to leave him so I thought I'd pick up a sandwich and go back to the office."

"It's Saturday. A beautiful Saturday," Harry beamed. "You can't go to work; who knows when we'll get another one?"

"I know, I know, but I've got to catch up."

"I'll catch up in 2020." Herb laughed, his deep rumble shaking the table.

"You and Brinkley are becoming best friends." Harry thought maybe she'd better order an extra sandwich to divide among three put-out animals at home.

"I love that dog. How did I live this long without my own dog? I always told myself I was too busy but I have my own office so he comes to work with me, he goes to the construction sites. He's such a good dog, so smart." She glowed.

"Labs are," Fair agreed.

"There's a corgi sitting at home who vehemently disagrees," Harry laughed, "but Labs are incredible creatures."

"He talks to me," Tazio sheepishly admitted, "and I talk back."

"Harry talks to her critters all the time." Herb polished off the rib-eye sandwich.

"Oh, and you don't talk to Elocution and Cazenovia?"

Herb nodded at Harry. "Couldn't write a sermon without them. Just thought I'd throw the spotlight on you."

"Nice to chat with you all. Let me go order a sandwich. What did you have, Herb? It looked good." Tazio inhaled the delicious aroma.

"Rib eye."

"That's what I'll get. And one for Brinkley." She walked over to the counter.

Just then Mychelle Burns entered, looked around nervously, saw Tazio, and sidled up to her.

Tazio, at pains to conceal her dislike, smiled. "What are you doing in Crozet?"

"Nothing," she fibbed. "Saw your truck with the dog in it." Mychelle lowered her voice. "I need to talk to you. Privately."

Tazio's brow furrowed. "Not today."

"Monday? In your office."

"Mychelle, I don't have my Filofax with me. Call me Monday."

"Don't put me off. I will be in your office Monday at nine. You be there. It's important."

"You know, you're becoming like Fred. That's not an attractive prospect." Tazio exhaled through her nostrils. "I need to check my book."

Mychelle lowered her voice almost to a whisper. "Don't fuck with me."

Surprised at the other woman's crude language, Tazio replied, "Mychelle."

"Wait until you hear what I have to say. Here's a preview: Fred, at night, takes debris from construction sites and dumps them at Matthew's site. Here's another preview: H.H. paid under the table for copies of Matthew's job blueprints. You need to talk to me."

"All right, Mychelle, all right. Monday at nine." Tazio wondered what was going on.

Without a goodbye, Mychelle turned and left, not even bothering to close the front door behind her. One of the waitresses hurried over to close it.

Harry, along with Fair and Herb, watched the exchange although they couldn't hear what transpired. Tazio looked back at them and shrugged. She paid for her two sandwiches and left, waving as she did so.

"Mychelle is not winning friends and influencing people," Fair observed.

"She used to be upbeat. Job's affected her. People get upset when something's wrong and it costs money to fix it. I suppose we need these building codes but they seem so, I don't know, too much paperwork, too much interference." Herb ordered Boston cream pie.