Cat on the Scent

            “She’s on our list. We haven’t gotten there yet. Initially we concentrated on the firearms people, hoping we could trace the rifle since we have two bullets, one intact and one flattened, the one that lodged against Sir Vane-Tempest’s shoulder blade. The third one is missing.”

            “Arrest Archie Ingram.” Sarah pounded the table, making the cats jump.

            “Mrs. Vane-Tempest, you can’t imagine the pleasure that would give me, but I can’t arrest him without evidence.”

            “He was behind my husband.”

            “So was I,” Ridley said. “So were Blair, Herb, and half of Crozet.”

            “You don’t care what happens to Henry. You don’t like him!” Sarah shouted.

            “Ma’am, I abide by the laws of the land and I can’t arrest Archie Ingram. Not without compelling evidence.”

            Herb raised his impressive voice. “What’s important is we’ve got to communicate with one another. If we see anything untoward, call the sheriff or the deputy. Call one another.”

            “Do you think we’re all in danger?” Mim neatened her mail stack. She wasn’t frightened as much as she was curious.

            “No,” Cynthia replied.

            “Lucky you.” Sarah, furious, stalked out of the post office.

            This set everyone off again. Ridley Kent hurried after her.

            Tucker listened intently, then came in by the back animal door. “She’s hot.”

            The cats jumped down to join her. “Can’t blame her.”

            “What did you make of Blair running out like that when he saw Archie?” Pewter asked the dog.

            “He folded himself into that car and flew down the road in the direction of home. Makes me wonder.”

            “Let’s go over there tonight after work,” Murphy suggested.

            “Yes, let’s,” Pewter chimed in.

            One by one the townspeople left. Cynthia, Tally, and Mim lingered.

            Miranda made Tally a bracing cup of tea, as she was flagging a bit.

            “Not every question has an answer.” The old lady sipped her tea, straight.

            “I think they do. But we don’t always want to hear it.” Mim contradicted her aunt.

            “Speak for yourself.”

            “No one wanted to know the answer when Jamie shot Biddy Minor.” Big Mim hated being contradicted, even by Tally—or especially by Tally. “Every place has unsolved crimes because people don’t want to know.”

            “What good would it do to know? Everyone is dead. How they arrived at that state is irrelevant!” Tally snapped.

            The cats knew better than to leap on the table with Tally present. They hung out in the canvas mail cart instead, heads peeping over the top. Tucker sat under the table.

            “Moonshine,” Harry called over her shoulder as she emptied the wastebasket into a plastic garbage bag. “I know that’s not the reason but that was the excuse given.”

            “My brother didn’t make any more moonshine than anyone else in Albemarle County in those days,” Tally said. “Bad blood.”

            “Had to be awfully bad if Jamie shot him,” Miranda said. “Both such handsome men. I’ve seen their pictures.”

            “Never see their like again.” Tally stared off in the distance.

            “Didn’t Jamie have a gambling problem?” Big Mim asked her aunt.

            “Mim, my brother had many problems. You name it—gambling, horses, women, wine. Prudence was not his watchword.”

            “Wasn’t Tommy Van Allen’s either.” Harry, finished with her chore, leaned on the sink behind them.

            “Somewhat similar personalities. You’d have thought it would have been Jamie who got shot, not Biddy. Biddy was a sensible man most ways.” Tally allowed Miranda to refill her cup.

            “Guess we’ll never know.” Harry walked to the divider and folded up the newspaper. The back section fell on the floor. She picked it up without reading it.

            “People do terrible things. They just do,” Tally said. “We’re animals with a gloss of manners.”

            “I resent that.” Murphy’s tail twitched.

            Harry opened a jar of Haute Feline, giving each cat a fishy.

            “Hey.”

            She handed Tucker a Milk-Bone.

            “You remind me of your great-grandfather, Mary Minor. You have his eyes and you have his curiosity.”

            “Did you like my great-grandfather?”

            “I adored him. Had a schoolgirl crush. Biddy was the handsomest man. Curly black hair and those snapping black eyes. And the biggest smile! He could light a room with that smile. He bet on horses and cards, chickens… everyone did. He and Jamie bred fighting cocks together. Often wondered if that wasn’t it. But it wasn’t moonshine, I’m sure of that.”

            “Where’d they fight chickens?” Miranda said. “Didn’t you have a pit out on the farm? Oh, I barely remember. My momma wouldn’t allow me anywhere near.”

            “A beautiful pit out by the back barn.” She pointed to Harry. “Out where you found the airplane. Nothing left of it anymore. It’s full of rusted trucks and tractors. All illegal now.” She shrugged.

            After Mim and Tally and Cynthia left, Harry picked up the paper to throw it into the garbage bag. She glanced at the back page. “Miranda, did you read this?”

            “What?”