Рита Браун - Probable Claws

Tucker lunged for Raynell’s calf as Brinkley took the other one. Those fangs hurt like the devil.

The spider evaded Raynell’s desperate attempts to dislodge her. Harry, in terrific shape thanks to farming, grabbed the gun hand and brought Raynell’s arm down hard over her knee. A snap could be heard, the gun dropped. Tazio pinned her other arm behind her back as Mrs. Murphy batted the gun away.

“Rabies. The spider had rabies,” Pewter bellowed for all she was worth.

Raynell, screaming, sweating, begged, “Get that spider off of me.”

“Not until you confess. You killed Gary, right?” Harry held her broken arm, giving it a jerk.

Raynell screamed. “I did. I did.” Weeping, she pleaded, “Get the spider off.”

“She’s going to bite you.” Pewter relished the moment.

Pirate, although a puppy, stood on the fallen woman’s chest.

“Please, help me!” Raynell sobbed.

“Who do you work for? Then we’ll remove the spider,” Harry promised.

“A company in partnership with Rankin Construction.”

“I am not touching that spider,” Tazio sensibly said as she kept Raynell’s left arm securely pinned.

“I’ll move her. God, she’s enormous.” Harry gulped, kept her hand securely on Raynell’s arm, reached over to brush the eight-legged wonder off the sobbing woman’s head. The spider, having had her fun, jumped off, scurrying to the bathroom.

“Taz, do you have any rope?”

“Do.”

Harry let go of Raynell’s arm but stomped it first for good measure.

The jolt of pain as well as residual fear kept Raynell from rising. Harry scooped up the gun, guarded by Mrs. Murphy, flipped off the safety, pointed it at the stricken woman.

Tazio ran to her supply closet, brought out a sturdy roll of twine and tied Raynell’s hands in front of her, her right arm limp. Raynell tried to bat at Tazio with her left as the spider’s exit gave her a bit of courage, but Tucker and Brinkley kept their fangs secure in her calves.

Dragged to a chair, twine now wrapped so many times, Raynell wasn’t going anywhere.

Harry called Cooper.

Pewter remained in front of the bathroom door but the other animals guarded Raynell.

Cooper, Sheriff Shaw, Dabney arrived at the studio within fifteen minutes, sirens blaring. They must have hit seventy miles an hour on those old roads.

Cooper, first in the door, looked at Raynell, then Harry and Tazio. “You okay?”

“Great.”

Pewter called from the back room, “I saved the day. Really, she walked under the ceiling and the monster dropped. Engineered the whole thing.”

The other animals kept quiet, but Tucker and Brinkley grimaced.

“Blood.” Sheriff Shaw followed the dripping blood from the back room to where Raynell sat, then noticed the bloody jaws of Tucker and Brinkley.

“They bit her calves,” Harry simply said.

Tazio turned to Raynell. “Out with it.”

Cooper retrieved her small notebook, flipped it open.

Raynell kept her mouth shut, so Harry punched her broken arm. “Now! Or I’ll break the other one.” She looked up at Sheriff Shaw. “Self-defense.”

“Of course.”

“I killed Gary Gardner.”

“Next.” Harry moved toward her.

“Next what?”

“Next victim.”

“Uh…”

Harry raised her hand again. That fast, Harry unleashed a backhand across Raynell’s face, the sound of which could have been heard out on the street.

The officers wouldn’t stop her. Nor would they report this. Raynell could babble to any lawyer she wished. Harry loved Gary. She was so angry she bordered on the irrational. It was a wonder Harry didn’t try to kill Raynell. Raynell got what was coming to her.

“Lisa Roudabush.”

“How did you know to try and kill me?” Harry pressed.

“The camera at the excavation site gave you away.”

Triumphant, Harry looked at Cooper, Rick, and Dabney. “She’s all yours.”

Tucker and Brinkley drank water as Raynell was lead away.

“That’s better.” Tucker exhaled.

“Human blood has a metallic taste,” Brinkley replied.

Pirate, watching everything, asked, “Does this happen often?”

Mrs. Murphy, on the desk, looked down at the handsome fellow. “Around Harry it does.”

Tazio dropped into her drafting table chair. “What the hell am I going to do about that spider?”

Suddenly Harry burst out laughing, laughter after a crisis has passed, soon joined by Tazio.

“Feed her dead flies. She saved our lives.” Harry laughed until she cried.

“I saved you. Me. Me. Me,” Pewter called from the adjoining room, then sashayed into the big room as if to make her point.

“Well, Pewts, now we know why you were so fascinated with the back room.” Harry wiped the tears from her eyes.

“I can’t kill that big thing. She really did save us.”

“Like I said, dead flies. And she won’t live but so long yet. While she’s here she is impressive.” Harry scratched Mrs. Murphy, sitting on the desk, then reached down to pet Pewter.

“Were you scared?” Tazio asked.

“Surprised. And scared now that it’s over.” She thought a moment. “Spiders. I recall the divine from colonial times, Jonathan Edwards, who wrote, ‘We are depraved creatures, spiders hanging over the fire.’ Thank God that spider was hanging on the ceiling,” Harry said.

“Do you think we are depraved?”

“Some of us are, but no, I don’t. What about you?”

“No, but they certainly get all the media attention. I guess that’s our Puritan background, exalt misery and suffering. That’s all I see from it. Not a hint of joy.”

“You know what H. L. Menken wrote, ‘A Puritan is a person who fears that someone, somewhere, is having fun.’ ” Harry laughed a little bit, having condensed the famous quote.

With that they both exploded in raucous laughter again, truly grateful to be alive.

45

June 15, 1787

Friday

Windows wide open, a refreshing breeze forced Ewing to put paperweights on his desk papers. Spectacles affixed, he read a letter from Philadelphia as Roger brought in afternoon tea.

Pushing his spectacles up, Ewing smiled at his contemporary. “Thank you.” He put down the letter then looked up at his butler. “Nothing is going to plan.”

“Sir?”

“The convention. It’s one argument after another. Roger Davis writes, under the table. I pay him to do so but best no one knows. I think he’s also informing others, which irritates me. Anyway, Madison puts forth all his ideas for government giving states much autonomy. These aren’t tabled but each delegate appears to feel his thoughts are necessary. Roger, I fear nothing can be done, but one sensible thing has occurred. The members elected George Washington president of the convention. He can vote as a member but he will not express opinions.”

Roger, alert to the times, very intelligent, poured tea. “Master, he is not much a talking man, so they say.”

“No. But I hear in small groups—especially if ladies are present, his wife in particular—he can be filled with laughter. I can only imagine the burdens he has carried and is carrying now.”

Roger folded his arms across his chest. “Indeed.”

“I like Jemmy Madison. I like his brother, and I fear their mother. She doesn’t suffer fools gladly. Imperious.” He shook his head, then laughed. “Well, I’ve nattered on, but I need be careful because I know Madison and Jefferson, though he be in France, think as one. And I must confess, I differ much from my neighbors, for I think John Adams has the stronger case, but I have doubts.”