Cat on the Scent

38

The old gravestones, worn thin by time, stood out bleakly on the meadow's horizon. The buried were members of Herb Jones's family who had once farmed the land now owned by Blair Bainbridge. As is the custom in Virginia, when land passes hands, family members nonetheless continue to care for the graves of their ancestors.

Once a year Herb righted tombstones, planted flowers, and trimmed the magnificent English boxwood hedge bordering the southwest side. Over time Herb's bad back hurt him more and more. Blair had begun to help tend the graveyard and to learn the history of its inhabitants.

Blair mowed the lawn, pruned trees, and trimmed around the edges of the stones. He performed this service out of respect for Herb, who had a large flock and not much help. The good reverend's natural generosity meant he had but little time for himself and even less money.

Pewter caught her breath on a flat gravestone set on graceful piers. “You won't believe what I heard!”

“Well, I found handcuffs.”

“You did?”

“In the U-Haul.”

“So it is Archie Ingram.” Pewter scanned the fresh green shoots in the field.

“How many people carry handcuffs?”

“Cops and cop wanna-bes. Now listen to what those guys were talking about. The map makes sense. The marked-off squares are lands they've bought through a corporation called Teotan. They've tapped underground rivers and streams. They're sinking wells on these properties and the flow is so strong they can sell water to the county. The county will need to put up water towers or build cisterns—which are a lot better-looking. This plan will save the county a mess of money and provide a good water supply for all of the newcomers. So far no other humans have put two and two together although the well drillers know a mess of wells are being dug.”

“Hmm, where's the hole?”

“There isn't one. I mean, except for Tommy Van Allen winding up as a frozen TV dinner. He was one of the four partners and, the most extraordinary thing, Sir H. Vane-Tempest said, ‘Which one of us killed Tommy Van Allen?' Archie screamed so loud I thought my eardrums would burst. He said H. was sick to even say such a thing. Blair wasn't overfond of H.'s crack either. Sir H. Vane said Sarah wanted to come into the deal in place of Tommy. At first Archie was opposed, then he thought it over and said she might be a good spokesperson for when they go public.”

“Blair?”

“He's not sure yet. He's afraid it will give the Vane-Tempests control over Teotan. He's right, too.”

Mrs. Murphy, hearing geese, squinted into the sun. She spied the telltale V formation, flying low. The rustling of the birds' wings was growing louder and just as quickly growing faint as the formation passed.

“I wouldn't want to be in Teotan right now.”

“Me neither,” Pewter agreed. “One partner hung on a meathook and the other got blasted.”

“The brilliance of their business plan is the money is steady. Millions will come in over the years. If they sold the land or the water outright to the county they'd lose an enormous chunk of their profit to taxes.” She shook herself, then squeezed through the iron fence around the graveyard. “Blair's smarter than I gave him credit for.”

“Smart? He'll be dead soon enough. Archie will control everything.”

They walked across the soft earth, crossing over the creek into Harry's hay field. Tomahawk, Poptart, and Gin Fizz, mouths full of clover and timothy, raised their heads, spotted their feline friends, then returned to grazing.

Mrs. Murphy finally spoke. “Blair isn't our human. He isn't our responsibility, but I like him.”

“I'm not risking my neck for anyone but Harry.”

“No one is asking you to, but we need to be alert. I'm inclined to help him up to a point. He's our next-door neighbor.”

“That's what worries me: He's next door.”