Рита Браун - Probable Claws

John spoke up. “The flintlock your father gave you. It has gold and silver mountings. Made by Nicolas Noël Boutet. Might that bring in money?”

“John, it would bring in ninety pounds, perhaps a bit more. A drop in the bucket. You won that from me. Spoils of war. It’s your gun.” He smiled. “My father gave that to me. I’m not giving it to Pookie. Let’s say we spare the Boutet.”

John nodded. The flintlock was exquisite.

Catherine sat upright. “Don’t despair, Charles. Let me think on it.”

He looked at his sister-in-law. Charles respected Catherine’s mind, her business acumen.

Rachel, too, stared at her sister. “You’re cooking something up. I can always tell.”

“Mmm.” She wiggled her hand, which to Rachel meant that whatever it was, it was outrageous.

Later, as Catherine and John walked back to their house, Bettina and Serena looked from the kitchen window.

“Too thin.” Bettina shook her head.

“Sorrow. Such a sorrow.”

Bettina nodded. “The fate of women. We birth stillborn children, those that live, you thank God for their lives. Take two brothers. Both come down with the cough. One lives. One dies. Why? I know of no woman who has raised all her children to adults. Not one.”

“Even Mrs. Ewing?” Serena was a child when the mistress had died.

“Even Miss Isabelle. She had a son who lived four days.” She threw up her hands. “You never forget the ones who slipped away. You can still remember their voices, the light in their eyes, the way they smelled in your arms when you held them. You carry them forever.”

She knew of what she spoke, having lost two children. Bettina looked back at Catherine. She was strong. She’d go on. But there’d be questions now in the back of her mind.

The front of her mind was a different matter.

27

January 30, 2017

Monday

The small staff at Nature First answered phones, sent emails, talked to anyone who would listen. The Daily Progress, the Charlottesville paper, which though small had won many awards, called Lisa for a comment on the one-page ad in the Richmond Times-Dispatch about why city council needed to be serious about city planning, about including Nature First and other groups into early discussions.

“Every city should do this. Our environmental future is too important to be left to mayors or city managers.” Lisa spoke on the phone to a reporter from what locals called “The Daily Prog.” Those who were not liberal—for it was a liberal newspaper—called it “The Daily Regress.”

The young man on the other end of the line fed her an easy lob. “Even Charlottesville?”

“Especially Charlottesville. The University of Virginia is one of the architectural treasures of our nation. What has been allowed to be built in the city is a disgrace. Ugly doesn’t cover it.”

“I see.” And he did. “And habitat?”

“We’re intruding on other species. Building without any consideration for their highways, so to speak, and their food supply. Suburbanites get hysterical about a bear in the garbage can. The bear lived there first.”

Another half hour of this and the young man had more than enough material. Lisa hung up the phone.

Felipe stuck his head in her office. “Need a break? It’s been a madhouse.”

“I could use a potty break,” Pirate suggested.

Lisa glanced at the atomic clock on her desk. “Eleven o’clock. Have I been on the phone that long?”

“We’ve all been answering emails or the phone,” Felipe replied.

“Well, let me walk my guy here. He’s been very good.” She picked up the leash hanging on the back of her chair, snapped it on his collar, grabbed her coat, and walked out. “I won’t be long.”

And she wasn’t. Within twenty minutes she was back.

“Anyone else need a break?”

“I can pick up lunch,” Raynell offered.

The building contained two food places, one a stand-up place and another offering fuller service. Both Lisa and Felipe gave Raynell their orders. Lisa asked for a sandwich for Pirate, as he’d earned a treat.

Once Raynell brought back lunch they repaired to the small meeting room to eat, go over all that had transpired.

“The ad was worth it.” Lisa fed Pirate his sandwich tidbits.

“It will be worth it if we do get invited to the planning meetings.” Felipe thought the cost outrageous.

“We’ll know in time. Those planning commission meetings usually take place once a month.” Lisa bit into a hot sandwich.

“Food.” Pewter raced into the room followed by Mrs. Murphy, Tucker, and lastly Harry.

“Sorry.” Harry picked up the fat gray cat, placing her outside the room, closing the door.

“I am starving. I’m going to call the SPCA!” Pewter hollered.

“She has good lungs.” Felipe laughed.

“Sit down, Harry. Would you like half my sandwich? It’s huge.”

“No. I stopped by—don’t stop eating, by the way—I stopped by to tell you your ad has everyone talking, as does the skeleton found in Richmond. Kind of worked in your favor, didn’t it?”

“Not that we wish anyone murdered, but since that happened even before there was a Nature First, we might as well use it,” Lisa realistically answered.

“Yeah.” Harry knitted her eyebrows for a moment. “First Gary is killed.”

“Awful,” Raynell loudly spoke.

“He once worked for Rankin Construction. If he were still with us he might have some insight.” Harry continued her line of thought.

“Like what?” Raynell asked.

“Did anyone have an argument with, say, a foreman, or did anyone steal something?”

“Even so. Doesn’t mean he was murdered. And the medical examiner hasn’t yet established a time when he died or how long he was there,” Felipe said.

“I know, but there’s something about this that just eats at me. Something I can’t identify.”

“Harry, we all lost a friend. Someone who designed wonderful spaces for us. Eats at all of us,” Raynell said.

“I hear you talking about eating!” Pewter banged on the door.

“Well, I’d better go before I have to replace your door.”

“It’s terrible the way you don’t feed that cat,” Lisa teased.

“You don’t know the half of it,” Tucker chimed in.

Pirate replied, “She’s mean to me.”

“Don’t pay any attention, Pirate. She thinks the universe revolves around her,” Tucker said.

Harry, her hand on the doorknob, paused. “I’m going to Over the Moon. Need anything?”

“See if Books for Living by Will Schwalbe has come in,” Lisa asked.

“If it has, I’ll set it on the table by the front door.”

The book had come in. After a bracing discussion with Anne, Harry walked back to Nature First, quietly opened the door. They were all on the phone or at their computers. She placed it on the table by the door.

Two hours later, Felipe called to Lisa. “Hey, your book is here.”

“Been there for hours.” Raynell looked up from her computer.

“I’ll take it to her.” Felipe picked it up, placed it on Lisa’s desk, as she had the phone to her ear.

She was bored so she opened the volume, began licking her fingers as she turned the pages. She leafed through it, she knew she needed to work but she couldn’t help peeking into the book she had ordered.

At five, Raynell wrapped her scarf around her neck, pulled on her coat. “Felipe, I’m going home. Lisa’s still working, I think.”

“Okay. I’ll tell her.”