Рита Браун - The Tail Of The Tip-Off

The Tail of the Tip-Off

Rita Mae Brown

Dedicated to

Mrs. C. McGhee Baxter

because it will make her holler,

"Why did you do that?"

Cast of Characters

Mary Minor Haristeen (Harry) The young postmistress of Crozet.

Mrs. Murphy Harry's inquisitive and intelligent gray tiger cat.

Tee Tucker Harry's faithful Welsh corgi.

Pewter Harry's shamelessly fat gray cat.

Susan Tucker Harry's best friend.

Fair Haristeen An equine veterinarian, and Harry's ex-husband.

BoomBoom Craycroft A tall, beautiful blonde who has always irritated Harry.

Miranda Hogendobber A virtuous and kindly widow who works with Harry at the post office.

Tracy Raz Miranda's former high-school sweetheart who reunited with her at their fiftieth reunion. Also a referee at UVA women's basketball games.

Reverend Herbert C. Jones The beloved pastor of St. Luke's Lutheran Church.

Cazenovia and Elocution Reverend Jones's two cats, whom he dotes on.

Big Marilyn (Big Mim) Sanburne The undisputed queen of Crozet society.

Little Mim Sanburne Big Mim's daughter who is still struggling for her own identity.

Tally Urquhart Older than dirt, she says what she thinks when she thinks it, even to her niece, Big Mim.

Coach Debbie Ryan The motivated leader of the UVA women's basketball team.

Andrew Argenbright Coach Ryan's assistant coach with the women's team.

Rick Shaw The overworked and understaffed Sheriff who prefers to play it by the book.

Cynthia Cooper The sheriff's deputy and Harry's good friend.

Tazio Chappars A young, brilliant architect, and a recent addition to the community. She's on the Parish Guild with Harry and BoomBoom at St. Luke's.

Brinkley A half-starved yellow lab who loves Tazio.

Matthew Crickenberger A powerful but generous businessman and contractor who also sits on the Parish Guild.

Fred Forrest The cantankerous and combative county building code inspector with a reputation for scrupulous, if sour, integrity.

Mychelle Burns Fred's assistant. She models her behavior, unfortunately, on Fred's.

H. H. Donaldson A fiercely competitive local contractor. Hot-tempered but good-hearted, yet he has a wandering eye.

Anne Donaldson H.H.'s long-suffering wife. Though wary, an intelligent woman and a good mother.

1

A gray sleety drizzle rattled against the handblown windowpanes in the rectory at St. Luke's Lutheran Church. As if in counterpoint, a fire crackled in the large but simple fireplace, the mantel adorned by a strip of dentil carving. The hands of that carver had turned to dust in 1797.

The members of the Parish Guild were seated in a semicircle around the fireplace, at a graceful coffee table in the middle. As anyone knows, serving on a board or a committee is a dubious honor. Most people recognize their duty in time to avoid it. However, the work must be done and some good folks bow their heads to the yoke.

Mary Minor Haristeen had succumbed to the thrill of being elected, of being considered responsible, by the congregation. This thrill thinned as the tangle of tasks presented themselves in meeting after meeting. She liked the physical problems better than the people problems. Fixing a fallen drainspout was within her compass of expertise. Fixing a broken heart, offering succor to the ill, well, she was learning.

The good pastor of St. Luke's, the Reverend Herbert C. Jones, excelled at both the people problems and teaching. He gladly gave of himself to any board member, any parishioner. As he'd baptized Mrs. Haristeen, nicknamed Harry, he felt a special affection for the good-looking woman in her late thirties. It was an affection bounteously returned, for Harry loved the Rev, as she called him, with all her heart.

Although the guild was bickering at this exact moment, it'd be fair to say that every member loved the Reverend Jones. It would be also fair to say that most of them liked-if not loved-Harry. The one exception being BoomBoom Craycroft who sort of liked her and sort of didn't. The feeling was mutual.

Like large white confetti, papers rested on the coffee table along with mugs. The aroma of coffee and hot chocolate somewhat dissipated the tension.

"We just can't go off half-cocked here and authorize an expenditure of twelve thousand dollars." Tazio Chappars crossed her arms over her chest. She was an architect and a young, attractive woman of color, with an Italian mother and an African-American father.

"Well, we have to do something," Herb said in his resonant, hypnotic voice.

"Why?" Tazio, combative, shifted in her seat.

"Because the place looks like hell," Harry blurted out. "Sorry, Rev."

"Quite all right. It does." Herb laughed.

Hayden McIntyre, the town's general practitioner, was a fleshy man with an air of command if not a touch of arrogance. He slipped his pencil out from behind his ear and began scribbling on the budget papers which had been handed out at the beginning of the meeting. "Let's try this. I am not arguing replacing the carpet in the rectory. We've put this off for four years now. I remember hearing arguments pro and con when I first came on board. This is one of the loveliest, most graceful churches in the Piedmont and it should reflect that." An appreciative murmur accompanied this statement. "I've broken this down into three areas of immediate need. First the sacristy: must be done." He held up his hand as Tazio opened her mouth. "It must. I know what you're going to say."

"No you don't." Her hazel eyes brightened. "Well, okay, maybe you do. Pick up the carpet and sand the floors."

"Tazio, we've been over that. We can't do that because the floorboards are so thin they can't take it." Matthew Crickenberger, head of Charlottesville's largest construction firm, clapped his hands together softly for emphasis. "Those floorboards are chestnut. They've been doing their job since 1797 and frankly they're tired and we can't really replace them. If you think the bill for new carpeting is high, wait until you see the bill for chestnut flooring even if we could find it. Mountain Lumber up there off Route 29 might be able to scare some up and give us a preacher's price, but we're still talking about thousands and thousands of dollars. Chestnut is as rare as hen's teeth and we'd need a great deal of it." He glanced down at his notes. "Six thousand square feet if we were to replace everything now under carpet and this doesn't factor in the other areas currently in use but not quite ready for recarpeting."

Tazio exhaled, flopping back in her chair. She wanted everything just so but she didn't have to foot the bill. Still, it rankled to have a vision amputated because of a small pocketbook. Such was an architect's fate.

"Hayden, you had a plan?" Herb pushed the meeting along. No one wanted to be late to the basketball game and this discussion was eating up time.

"Yes," he smiled, "what people see first is the sacristy. If we can't come to an arrangement among us, can we at least agree to go ahead with that? The cost would be about four thousand."

"If we are going to have the place ripped up, then let's just get it over with. We know we have to do this." BoomBoom, gorgeous as always, shimmered in her teal suede dress.

"I agree. We'll find the money someplace."

"We'd better find the money first or we'll have to answer to the congregation in the church, in the supermarket, and"-Matthew winked at Harry-"in the post office."

Harry, the postmistress, sheepishly smiled. "And you know my partner in crime, Miranda, is a member of the Church of the Holy Light, so she won't bail me out."

The little gathering laughed. Miranda Hogendobber, who was a good thirty years older than Harry, quoted Scriptures with more ease than the Reverend Jones and while she tolerated other faiths she felt the charismatic church to which she belonged truly had the best path to Jesus.