Whisker of Evil (18 page)

After recounting events, listening to everyone's ideas and opinions—all favorable to her, which was gratifying—she was alone. Susan drove Miranda back home.

The quiet slap of the paintbrush underscored the fact that she was unemployed, in her late thirties, no prospects in sight, and bills to pay. She'd graduated from Smith College with a degree in Art History and fell into the job as a postmistress the summer after graduation. George Hogendobber had died of a heart attack and Harry took the job to fill in. She never dreamed she'd stay behind the counter of the small post office in small Crozet. Not that she was heading for New York City and wealth, but with her education it seemed natural that she'd go on, get a doctorate, and teach at one of the wonderful universities within driving range: Sweet Briar, Mary Baldwin, the University of Virginia, or even Hollins, which was down in Roanoke. Randolph-Macon was in Lynchburg. There were many possibilities and Harry excelled in her studies.

The first year passed and she settled into the job. She liked being at the hub of events. They might be events such as hail peppering BoomBoom's barn roof or a new restaurant opening at the corner, but she liked knowing the news. She'd even gotten to the point where she read the papers, watched the nightly news, but came to the conclusion that where you live is what's real. Not that she didn't care about what happened in other parts, but she lived in Crozet, and if she was going to do any good in this world it would be in Crozet, Virginia.

Now what?

32

F
air called Jerome Stoltfus, who was shadowing the state veterinarian.

“Animal control,” Jerome barked into his cell phone, as he drove the
exact
speed limit. Jerome was that kind of guy.

“It's Fair Haristeen.”

“Now, don't you jump down my throat because Harry went postal.” He chuckled at his little joke. “Those critters don't belong there, anyway, and she'll think things over and be back at work Monday. I give her Thursday and Friday to mull it over.”

Fair cleared his throat. “Harry usually takes a long time to make a decision. When she makes one quickly, uh, I'd watch out. And you ought to know by now, Jerome, whether she makes a decision slowly or quickly, she won't back down. Not ever.”

“We'll see.” Then a flash of illumination changed Jerome's tone. “But you were married to her, so I guess you know. I was fixing to call you, but this has been intense. Today has been intense. Can we change our get-together?”

As this was why Fair was calling Jerome, he was relieved. “Sure. Any night after five. I'm usually at the clinic until six.”

“How about Monday?”

“Fine.”

“I've been talking to a lot of doctors. You start listening to those guys and it's a wonder anyone is healthy. Sure are a lot of ways to get sick.”

“Seems to be.”

“I've been looking up stuff on the Internet. Cave climbers, what do you call them . . . ?” he asked.

“Spelunkers.”

“The Internet site on rabies said those people get rabies inoculations.”

“That's very interesting.”

“Said that when you've got an enclosed place with little ventilation and thousands upon thousands of bats that have been living there since
B
.
C
., well, you might can inhale rabies.”

“Inhale it?” Fair tried not to sound incredulous.

“That's what I read.” Jerome was not repeating exactly what he read, but he felt he was close enough.

“Jerome, I'd steer clear of Harry for a week or two.” Fair changed the subject.

“She was wrong.”

“That's not the point.” Fair didn't think Harry was wrong, but no need to argue with someone as bullheaded as Jerome. “She's upset. She loves her animals the way people love their children. Take my advice and leave her alone.”

Jerome slowed for a sharp curve. “Well, if you ask me, animals are more faithful than people, so I guess I can't blame her.”

“Thanks.” Fair hung up.

It then occurred to Jerome that the reason Harry threw Fair out a few years ago was because he'd cheated on her. The story was that he'd cheated more than once, just went through a wild phase, but Fair swore he did not cheat, if you will, until they had separated, which was when he started seeing BoomBoom.

Fair dialed the offices of McIntire and Langston. The receptionist put him straight through to Bill.

They discussed what Jerome had just told Fair.

“So it really is possible?” Fair asked.

“No. I don't think so. I don't think there have been any inhalation cases ever reported, but there are droplets of saliva—tiny, microscopic droplets—in infested caves.”

“You breathe the aerosolized virus?”

Bill answered, “Yes.”

“Do you have any knowledge of Barry or Sugar visiting these caves?”

“No. Well, let me amend that. There is nothing in either of their medical records requesting the inoculation. But you all would know if they were spelunkers.” Bill, being new to the area, deferred to Fair. “The reason those guys get the shots is because there are so many thousands of bats. It's insurance in case someone gets bitten. And I haven't heard or read of any cases.”

“As far as I know, neither Barry nor Sugar so much as set foot in a cave.”

“Both of their rabies types were of the silver-haired-bat variety. Makes sense in the absence of trauma. A tiny, tiny wound.”

“Sorry to be slow here, Bill, but let me go back to climbing around caves for a moment. In your opinion, if I go into such a place, what are my chances of being bitten?”

“Let me answer that this way. If you go walking in the woods, what are your chances of being bitten by a rabid raccoon? It's about the same.”

“I see. Thanks, Bill, I know you've been besieged today. That damned Jerome.”

“Someone ought to tape his mouth shut with duct tape. I have some right here in the office.” Bill's tenor deepened. “Along with all this excitement, the place has been buzzing about Harry and Miranda quitting.”

“They did. And Jerome provoked it. I think Pug would have found a solution, at least until the new P.O. is built. I guess we forget that he has to answer to Washington.”

“Luckily I only have to answer to God,” Bill wryly replied.

After Fair hung up the phone, Alma popped into his office. “Doc, BoomBoom. Says Keepsake has a bad discharge.”

“Tell her I'll be right over.”

BoomBoom's barn, an elegant four-stall affair with a brand-new standing seam copper roof, was nestled under large locust trees. Fair was her regular vet, although she often spoke to Tavener. If Fair was out of town, which was rare, Tavener would take care of BoomBoom. As BoomBoom felt she utilized Tavener's specialized knowledge, she always sent a sumptuous Christmas gift as a thank-you.

Fair cleaned up Keepsake, checked her with ultrasound to be sure.

“Well, she's bred.”

“The lady or the tiger? A mule or a horse?”

“You'll know around the first of April.” He bent over to pick up his clipboard, which rested on a tack trunk in BoomBoom's colors, magenta and gold.

“Does she have venereal disease?” BoomBoom, a good horsewoman, knew venereal diseases could be passed from stallion to mare and vice versa.

“No. She had a small tear here on the outside of her vagina and it got infected. She's a fine, healthy mare. To be on the safe side, give her SMZ and just swab her in the mornings and the evenings. Keep it clean. The flies are the main problem.”

BoomBoom tolerated bugs, as she had no choice. “I looked her over when she came on back. I didn't see any blood.”

“You know horses. They find more ways to injure themselves. She could have gotten caught up in thorns. Who knows, but she'll be fine.”

Fair wrote up the call, walked to his truck, and pulled out a jar of SMZ since BoomBoom had only a few left. Most horsemen keep antibiotics in the barn, as well as some tranquilizers. If an animal is hurt, one often needs to keep them quiet, depending on the injury; hence the tranquilizer.

“Pug Harper couldn't find his ass with both hands.” BoomBoom laughed. “You should have seen him trying to tend to the P.O.” BoomBoom, knowing Harry, cut to the chase. “Does she know what she's going to do? When we all paid her a call, she seemed fine. You know, I think this is the best thing to happen to her. She needs something that will use her mind. She's way too bright to be filling mail slots.”

“You're right.” Fair washed his hands in the barn sink.

BoomBoom handed him a towel. “This is your chance. She's been more affectionate around you. She spends more time with you. Go for it.”

He dried his hands, exhaled deeply. “Do you really think so?”

“She needs you.”

“She won't marry me because she's out of a job. She has too much pride.”

“She needs you.” BoomBoom restated the obvious. “She needs your strength, comfort, thoughts about her future. It's not about money. We all know she won't take a nickel. That's her fatal flaw. She has to learn to receive. When she called for help on the shed, I thought that was a huge breakthrough.”

He considered this as he folded the towel, placing it on the rack. “Guess it was.”

“She's changing.” BoomBoom smiled. “We're all changing. That's life.”

“Boom, there are people in this county who haven't had a new thought in thirty years and don't want one.”

“And we might pass and repass them, but we aren't spending time with them, are we? You have to grow. It's life's imperative. Grow or die. Harry's growing. This is the best thing that's happened to her. Make it the best thing that's happened to you.”

“Sometimes you surprise me.”

“Sometimes I surprise myself.” The beautiful blonde laughed. “Fair, I care about you. And for all of my strained relationship with Harry, which improved so much after we were trapped last winter down at U-Hall,” she said, “I care about her. We've been together since we were children, all of us, and we'll be together when we're old like Miranda, Big Mim, Jim, Tracy. I'm coming to grips with the fact that we're a generation. It's kind of like being in a regiment.”

He laughed. “Yeah, it is.”

“You and I had a lot of fun together, but it was the wrong time. And you know the truth?” Her eyebrows raised. “I'm a consumer when it comes to men. Good as you are, well, I'm not going to settle down, and I think that shocked you. You weren't ready to settle down, anyway. We're pushed into it by society. No one should ever think about starting a relationship until one year after a divorce, I swear.”

“Do you think you'll ever marry again?”

“When Kelly died, I mourned him. But you know the truth? The truth I never told anyone? If he'd lived I would have divorced him, the controlling son of a bitch.” She said this without rancor. “I don't want any man telling me what to do.”

“Neither does Harry.”

“You don't tell her what to do, you suggest. You know how to handle Harry, when you think about it.”

He laughed. “I think she knows how to handle me. A lot of times she knows what I'm going to do before I do it.”

“Listen to me, as an old friend, this is your chance.”

He leaned down—although not very far, because BoomBoom was six feet tall and he was six five—and kissed her on the cheek. “You're a special lady.”

33

B
lood was lightly splattered over the windshield of the white Jeep.

When Deputy Cooper arrived, the motor was still running.

Jerome Stoltfus slumped to the side of the steering wheel. He had been shot in the back of the head, the bullet exiting through his forehead and out the front windshield.

Cynthia double-checked her watch. Ten twenty-one
P
.
M
., Wednesday night, June 23. She pulled on thin latex gloves and felt for a pulse in Jerome's neck. None, which she expected. The body was cool but not yet cold.

She peeled off the gloves, walked over to Little Mim. “You okay?”

“Yes.” Little Mim's face was bone white.

“Excuse me while I call Rick. Then I'll ask you a few questions and you can go home.”

“Coop, you do whatever you have to do,” Little Mim, who was shocked but in control, replied.

Cooper punched in to the dispatcher. “Get me the sheriff. Wake him up if he's asleep.”

Within minutes she heard the familiar voice. “Better be good.”

“Jerome Stoltfus. Shot through the back of the head. Yellow Mountain Road, about two miles from the entrance to Rose Hill.”

“Be right there.”

Cooper returned to Little Mim. “Did you see any other cars?”

“No. Nothing. I was coming back from Aunt Tally's and I noticed the Jeep pulled off the road. I slowed because I knew it was Animal Control, and I wondered if Jerome was picking up an injured animal since I couldn't see him. So I pulled up behind and walked to the embankment, but I still didn't see him. That's when I looked in the car. And that's when I called the sheriff's department. I knew he was dead the second I saw him.”

“It's a shock to see someone like that.” Cooper was genuinely sympathetic.

“Yes, it is,” Little Mim answered slowly, “but what went through my head was, ‘Who got him first?' I mean, everyone was furious with him.”