Catch As Cat Can

                Tucker also put her nose to the ground as the cats watched. A stiff breeze came up quickly, blowing their fur toward their heads.

                "It's not fertilizer yet it smells organic. The man-made chemicals are harsh. This is-h-m-m, familiar." Abraham inhaled another deep draft."Acidic. Natural. .Ah, I have it. Yes, tannic acid. Yes. Use it sometimes on the backs of new Oriental rugs to make them look old. Use it on skins. That's it."

                "Any association with a human?" Mrs. Murphy asked as she lowered her head, the wind picking up considerably.

                "Don." Abraham nodded slowly."Guess he borrowed the truck. Funny, though, he didn't leave his car. I can't think of anyone else with that scent. The moisture's holding it down pretty good. I don't know if Don did take the truck but I'm sure this is tannic acid."

                "Forgive me, Abraham, I'm not an initiate into the mysteries of scent." The tiger smiled, her green eyes glittering."But isn't it possible that the odor could be from the leather on the bottom of shoes or from the leather upper? It's muddy enough here for a shoe to sink in."

                "Wouldn't be this pungent." Abraham's deep voice reverberated. He lifted his head south, to the wind."Going to be another blow. You'd better head back or stay here if you'd like. Booty will get over himself."

                "Thanks. We'll go back. Oh, one more question." Tucker also lifted her head."I don't recall Booty being a Dallas Cowboys fan. I thought he was Redskins all the way."

                "Is."

                "There was a Cowboys windbreaker on the back of the truck seat," Tucker said.

                "No one in our family roots for any team but the Redskins. I'm not a football fan myself but I can tell you that. Go on now. You haven't much time."

                "Thanks again, Abraham," Tucker said.

                "Yes, thank you," the cats replied.

                "Glad to be of service." Abraham turned, ambling back to the house. He'd given up on Booty and the tractor.

                As the three hurried back the first raindrop splattered down behind the grade school.

                "I knew it. I just knew it," Pewter railed as Mrs. Murphy and Tucker forged ahead, and as the storm worsened her volume level rose."I should have never left the post office. I should have trusted my first impulse. When am I going to learn to do that? What do I care about an old truck? I mean I don't care about Wesley Partlow. I didn't know Wesley Partlow. I wouldn't care if half the human race vanished. All they do is make a mess. I should have never let Tucker talk me into this. I hate those two. I hate them. Really!"

                27

                Rick Shaw stopped off at Pantops Shopping Center to grab a snack. He'd slipped back into the car with the sandwiches as Cynthia Cooper returned with drinks and two cartons of cigarettes since the price was so good.

                He turned on the engine. Just as he did he heard the dispatcher's voice."Sheriff, Sheriff Zakarios of Culpeper needs to talk to you. I've been trying to get you."

                "Say what he want, Sheila?"

                "No. But he said it's important."

                "See if you can get him for me. I'll be in the car."

                "Righto."

                "Wonder what Zak wants." Coop bit into a ham-and-cheese sandwich. She hadn't realized how hungry she was until she took her first bite.

                "Rick," Zakarios's voice boomed over citizen's band radio.

                "Yes, Zak. What's cooking in Culpeper?"

                "Albemarle resident found on White Shop Road just about a half hour ago. Shot through the temple, slumped over the steering wheel. Don Clatterbuck."

                "I'll be right there, Zak."

                "We sealed off the site. You know this guy?"

                "Yes."

                "Damnedest thing, he has a stuffed pileated woodpecker on the seat next to him. Thing's almost two feet tall."

                "He's a taxidermist on the side. Sirens on, maybe I can get to you in a half hour. I don't know, rain's looking evil."

                "How far down are you on White Shop Road? This is Deputy Cynthia Cooper."

                "Hi, Coop. Not two miles. We're a little off the road to the right. You'll see the yellow tape and the squad cars. Ambulance will be here, too. Thought you'd want to see him before-" He was interrupted, then returned."John says he thinks he's been dead less than an hour."

                "Be there as fast as I can. Over and out."

                A gushing rivulet of rainwater poured down in front of Rick Shaw's eyes each time he bent his head. The sheriff's hat, a modified cowboy hat that he and other officers wore, shunted water fore and aft, but the rains were so heavy the hat was soaked through in fifteen minutes.

                Sheriff Zakarios mourned the loss of clean vehicle tracks next to the truck. Tracks could still be seen but the rain wiped out a tread imprint."We've gone over his truck thoroughly." He wiped his cheeks, wet; his hands were wet, too."Not a feather off this woodpecker."

                Coop leaned against the 1987 GMC truck, now wearing real license plates, her back to it."The woodpecker belongs to Mary Minor Haristeen. He must have just finished it."

                "She into drugs or anything?" Chris Zakarios asked.

                "No," Coop replied."Straight as an arrow. Why, were you going to tear apart the woodpecker?"

                "Not right off the bat but I'll impound it for a while."