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Authors: Rita Mae Brown

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BOOK: Whisker of Evil
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21

T
his silver's more valuable than the gross national product of Ecuador.”

Big Mim, Little Mim, Aunt Tally, and Alicia stood in front of the huge trophy case in the large paneled tack room of the main barn.

Silver glistened. Loving cups, large inscribed plates, small bowls, and one enormous bowl festooned with carved grapes filled the case. Ribbons covered the back of the case, their blue and red reflecting on the silver. Mim never threw away a ribbon, but she displayed only the Championship, Reserve, First- and Second-place ribbons. The others she carefully laid flat in heavy cardboard boxes, putting them in her attic for safekeeping.

Usually Big Mim's dogs and Little Mim's dog—an offspring of her mother's English springer spaniel named Carbon Copy—would accompany them, but today, Sunday, they decided to surround a groundhog hole. The groundhog turned a deaf ear to their entreaties to come out.

“I remember when you won that one. Mary Pat nearly died. She wanted that trophy.” Alicia indicated a large loving cup with two graceful handles.

The cup was inscribed, Virginia Hunter Champion, 1970. Horse: Interest Rate, Rider: Mrs. James Sanburne.

“She was a good sport about it.” Big Mim relished that triumph.

“Mary Pat
was
a good sport.” Aunt Tally leaned on her cane. “She came right back and beat you at the Washington International that year.”

The Washington International was one of the premier horse shows in the mid-Atlantic.

“She fussed at me because I wouldn't show.” Alicia smiled. “I told her people looked at me enough. I needed time off.”

“You foxhunted. That's what really counts.” Big Mim had her priorities straight.

Brinkley entered the barn from the opposite end, bounding into the tack room.

“Where did you come from, big boy?” Little Mim thought the yellow Lab one of the loveliest dogs she had ever encountered.

“Tazio must be here.” Big Mim introduced Alicia to Brinkley, who, being a gentleman, offered his paw.

Little Mim stuck her head out of the tack room. “She's with Paul.”

“Ah.” A twinkle lit up the eye of Aunt Tally, who thought romance should be promoted enthusiastically and regularly.

“Don't start,” Big Mim admonished her aunt.

“Oh, la,” Aunt Tally insouciantly replied.

When Paul and Tazio entered the tack room, Big Mim introduced Tazio to Alicia. Paul had already met her.

“We've walked over the two possible sites for the new barn,” Paul said.

“And with your permission, I thought Paul and I could drive over to Morven to look at the barns there. Both the old ones and the ones that Mr. Kluge commissioned.”

“Excellent idea.” Aunt Tally beamed.

Big Mim cut her eyes at Aunt Tally but agreed that it would be a good idea.

“I called the hospital about Sugar. Just in case.” Paul liked Sugar.

“Yes, I did, too.” Big Mim shook her head. “Miracles happen, but I don't think one will happen for Sugar.”

“Mother, how long can this go on?”

Big Mim shrugged. “Possibly a week. Hopefully less. Bill said Sugar started thrashing around, so they've heavily medicated him to alleviate some of the suffering. And by the by, I had my reservations about this new doctor, but the way he's handling this, I think we're lucky to have him.”

“It's such a terrible thing. One rarely hears of rabies today. When you told me yesterday, I thought surely there must be a mistake.” Alicia couldn't imagine a worse death.

“Barry Monteith, too,” Little Mim grimly added.

“Fortunately, he didn't know it and neither did we.” Big Mim spoke in her perfectly modulated voice.

“What about the raccoon?” Little Mim wondered.

“No results yet.” Paul answered, since he'd kept in touch with Fair Haristeen. “Fair is pretty sure the raccoon had distemper, but he's still waiting on word from Richmond.”

“They take too long,” Aunt Tally grumbled.

“Well, the state of Virginia in its wisdom will squander millions on a road going to a state senator's house in the backwoods but will not add more people to the agencies that actually serve the people,” Big Mim complained.

“That could be said of any administration, anywhere, anytime.” Alicia laughed, having abandoned the idea of a just government decades ago.

“I should rule the world,” Aunt Tally simply stated.

“Well,” Big Mim took a deep breath, “we'd all know exactly where we stand.” She turned to Tazio and Paul. “Teatime. Please come up and join us. Brinkley, too.”

Paul, like most single men, was never one to pass up food. Tazio was delighted to be invited, also.

Once they were all settled on the summer porch, an array of scones, cookies, biscuits, jams, marmalades, jellies, cream, and butter appeared. Black teas and green teas were served. Aunt Tally, under the glaring eye of Mim, drank a shot of straight vodka, chased by a bracing cup of tea. The others chose to wait until later for spirits.

They chatted about the upcoming yearling sales, summer horse shows, and garden shows, about Tazio's plans for a new shed for Harry, about new building materials, round barns from the eighteenth century, and about design in general, whether for buildings or gardens.

After the impromptu gathering broke up, Little Mim drove Aunt Tally back to her farm. Big Mim and Alicia were alone, watching the long slanting rays of the sun, about a half hour before sunset.

The two had stayed in touch after Alicia moved to Los Angeles, and then Santa Barbara.

Mim, who adored traveling, would visit Alicia at her California home or on the set at least once a year. Alicia would return to Crozet for short visits, to recharge her batteries, to check on St. James. Fortunately, the farm manager and his wife were honest and hard workers.

“Little Mim is the spitting image of you. It's funny to see the two of you together.”

“Well, I wish she'd find direction. Something.”

“She has her boyfriend.” Alicia defended Little Mim. “And she is vice-mayor of Crozet. You're hard on her.”

“We both know that's not enough. As for her first husband, the less said about him the better. But this Blair,” Mim shifted in her seat, “what do you think of male models?”

“That anyone who lives by their looks is doomed to disappointment. I should know.” Alicia said this genially.

“Hmm.” Mim's voice dropped. “He seems normal enough.”

“You mean that he's not gay?”

“In so many words.”

“You'd know. I mean, sooner or later you'd know. He probably has the sense to know that his days are numbered in his business. You said he had another business.”

“He owns land in the northwestern part of the county, which has a great deal of underground water. This will probably become very important in the near future, especially since we've had a series of droughts, not horrible but bad enough to wake us up. He's not stupid or vapid.”

“Isn't that a prejudice? That terribly attractive people are stupid or vapid?”

“Yes and no. My experience is that the divinely beautiful or handsome have so many things done for them, doors opened, that they aren't aware of how much easier life is for them. They sometimes don't develop the skills other people learn early in life. One thinks immediately of Elizabeth Taylor.”

“You coped.”

“Aren't you flattering.” Big Mim smiled. “But I'm not beautiful.” She held up her hand. “I take good care of myself and I'm attractive, but the kind of beauty you have—or, say, a Clark Gable had—is some kind of radiance. That's very, very special.”

“Thank you, Mim. But remember, beauty can be a curse, too.” She stared pensively for a moment at the huge summer bouquet on the coffee table. “Do you think Blair loves her?”

“I'm not sure.”

“Does she love him?”

“Yes. She has the sense not to tell him, but I know Marilyn. She's in love and he's good to her, attentive, kind.”

“What can you do but wait?”

“I know, but I hope she doesn't make another big mistake. It's all so messy and painful.”

“I expect that's a working definition of life.” Alicia laughed. “Along with a lot of happiness woven throughout the mess and pain. Somehow it all works out.”

“It has for you.”

“Ha,” she laughed. “Once I realized I didn't have to marry every man I slept with it became easier.”

“I always thought you were in love with Mary Pat. She certainly was in love with you. Not that we ever spoke of those things then, but now we can. I hope—I mean, I hope I haven't offended you.” Big Mim was genuine in her concern.

“You have not. I did love Mary Pat and I think she loved me, but she was spoiled, as the very rich can be. Forgive me, Mim, I know you fall into the very rich category.”

“I'll admit I've been spoiled in many ways.”

“Mary Pat had to be the center of my attention. I was much younger than she, twenty years her junior, and I suppose, truth be told, that I wanted to be the center of attention, too. Actors usually do.” She laughed. “I wanted a career. She didn't resist that but she was diffident. And she wanted to live here, not Los Angeles.”

“Do you ever regret putting your career first?”

“No. Not once.”

“What about your marriages? Wasn't it hard to go against your basic nature?” Mim innocently asked.

Alicia paused for a long time, the marquise diamond on her left hand catching the light. “Yes. It was, especially when I was younger. Oh, I know I could have had affairs with women. Hollywood is accused of being sin city, but that kind of behavior goes on everywhere, even here in Crozet.”

“Amen.”

“But you know, I took my vows seriously. Each time I married I really wanted the marriage to work. Of course, in retrospect, how could they work? I was not where I was supposed to be, too afraid to look inside and, worse, in a grueling business where one is discarded sooner or later. It has taken me until now, until my fifties, to understand who and what I really am—and to be grateful for what God has given me. And eventually I'll find love. I hope so, anyway, and if I'm fortunate enough to find a life partner I'm not going to hide or lie about her. I'm going to be grateful and proud.”

“In some ways I envy you. You proved yourself,” Big Mim said.

“So have you.”

Mim twirled her earring. “Oh, I like to meddle. I like to run the show. Turns out I'm good at it, but I never had to go out into the world. You did. I admire that.”

“Thank you, but don't you think, somehow, some way, we all wind up just where we are supposed to be, doing what we're supposed to be doing?”

Mim smiled. “If we have any brains at all, yes.”

“Discipline,” Alicia said. “That's the key to everything.”

“Apparently few people have it. I think of it as a WASP virtue.”

Alicia's eyes widened. “I don't. You either have it or you don't. Being raised a WASP isn't going to help you. Think of all the lazy sods we know who are white Anglo-Saxon Protestants.”

“It's funny, Alicia, but the older I get the more I wonder if I know anything, and then there's Aunt Tally, who truly believes she could run the world.”

“She could.”

They both laughed.

“I'm so glad you've come back, for a long stay, I hope.” Big Mim meant that.

“Mary Pat's school ring.” Alicia inhaled. “She's calling me back. I came back to rest, to enjoy St. James. It's all so wonderful and restorative, but now she's calling me back.”

“Harry went back to Potlicker Creek. Later. She had Susan Tucker with her—you remember her, Gregory was her maiden name—and Fair Haristeen. They combed the woods and the creek bed, but after all these years they found nothing. Harry fancies herself an amateur sleuth.”

“I don't think there's anything left of Mary Pat except the love she gave to all of us.”

“I always thought someone killed her, took the horse, and shipped him off to Ireland or South America or wherever. If they'd both been killed you think we'd find one or the other. But no trace of Mary Pat or Ziggy was ever found.”

“And I'd just left for L.A. for my first screen test the day before she disappeared. It didn't look good, did it?”

“No.”

“I came back immediately, of course. The papers couldn't accuse me of being her lover, thanks to the libel laws. And the police couldn't accuse me of murder. No proof. But a pall hung over me. Hell. Sheer hell. As soon as I could put everything in order I left again. I was glad to go. And the gods were with me. I had a great career.” She paused. “I never could come up with a motive as to why someone would kill Mary Pat.”

“There is one. There always is.”

Alicia sighed. “Done is done. It seems Crozet has other problems right now.”

BOOK: Whisker of Evil
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