Homeward Hound

CHAPTER 15

Ronnie, standing next to Sister Jane, held Pokerface by a lead rope under the lights of his small barn.

“I didn’t notice it until I pulled him out to refresh his trace clip.”

She moved to Pokerface’s right side where a semicircular arc of fur was marked.

Running her fingers over the fur, Pokerface flinched slightly. She said, “No cut. More like his fur was slightly clipped.”

“Trimmed. Could a spur have done that?”

“Go get a pair.” She took the lead rope while he darted into his small, immaculate tack room. Everything of Ronnie’s was immaculate.

Returning with a polished pair of hammerhead spurs, he showed his friend. She ran her thumb over the edge.

“Not exactly sharp as a blade, but let’s see. I’ll hold him.”

Ronnie, spur edge facing outward, moved to the good boy’s side, swept the spur along it.

Pokerface flinched slightly. “Hey.”

“Good fellow, I won’t do it again.” He took the lead rope from Sister, who examined where the spur rubbed against Pokerface’s fur.

“Faint. Of course, anytime anything sharp, a branch, a spur, touches his ribs he’ll flinch but I can see a faint mark.”

“If Gregory came off with great force, the mark would be deeper than what I just did. At least that’s what I think.”

“I’ll put him in his stall. You fetch a treat.”

She walked the 16.2-hand fellow a few steps, slid open a stall door, top half iron railings so Pokerface could see out. Ronnie walked inside as she turned the horse around.

“Your fave.”

Pokerface, polite, swept the two delicious Mrs. Field’s cookies out of Ronnie’s opened palm.

“Hey,” Corporal in the next stall complained.

Ronnie, trained by his horses, stepped into Corporal’s stall with two cookies for him.

The humans retired to the tack room. The barn shut up for the night, wind rattling the large doors to the outside.

“Would you like a drink? We can go up to the house.”

“No thanks. I’ve got to get home. Tomorrow we’ll hunt from After All. I hope this wind has died down by then.”

He took out a bottle of water for himself and sat in a small but cozy chair facing Sister, who sat in its mate.

“Well, you can always stay in the covered bridge.” He smiled.

“I can never look at that bridge or walk through it without thinking how useful covered bridges were in the past, not for protection against the weather but for ‘romance.’ ”

“Never thought of it.” He unscrewed the bottle cap.

“Well, that explains everything.” She teased him, then became a bit somber. “How well did you know Gregory?”

“Ben asked me that, too. I knew him as a client of our firm. A very important client, and he was a foxhunter so I thought to kill two birds with one stone.” An uncomfortable expression crossed his face. “Under the circumstances, that was the wrong thing to say.”

“Not to me. Did you suspect Gregory might be more than a foxhunter? Say, a man on the down low? You have the radar, or is it gaydar?”

He shook his head. “I don’t have it, whatever you call it. I took him at face value, a middle-aged man, good looking, driven, obviously successful. Big career, I think he also made good investments. I knew he was married but he didn’t talk much about his wife and children. Some men do. The few times he mentioned Liz, it was complimentary.”

She folded her hands in her lap after unzipping her thin but warm parka. “I’m always a little suspicious when people constantly bring up their spouses. It’s one thing if you know them, but when you don’t I figure it’s parading heterosexual credentials.” Then she laughed. “Why bother? None of us will ever catch up with Aunt Daniella.”

“She’ll outlive us all.” He, too, adored the old lady. “I’ve gone over in my mind, over and over, did I miss anything? I can’t see that I did but when the little arc on Pokerface caught my attention, I wondered.”

“Show it to Ben. He’ll know better than we do.”

“I will. My relationship with Gregory was business and you know I wanted him to enjoy a terrific hunt in fabulous territory. I’m worried about the pipeline. Soliden is keeping their cards close to their chest, which makes it worse. Realtors are up in the air. Potential sellers and buyers are up in the air. Maybe considering expensive material improvements to their property if it’s in the line of fire has to hold off. Or why buy until you know the final route? Too many big questions. This hurts more than Realtors or those with houses on the market.”

“The ‘No Pipeline’ signs certainly had to reach him.”

“He didn’t mention them.” Ronnie sank a bit deeper in the chair. “God knows there are enough of them and they’re big. Thought it would help especially if he saw Tattenhall Station, Old Paradise, Chapel Cross, everything near the crossroad.”

“It’s impressive territory.”

“If I can steer a client toward a less destructive path, less publicity, I’ve helped my client and protected land. Once the pipeline is done it can’t be undone, Sister. And if I can divert the pipeline, better yet get Soliden to use existing rights-of-way, our law firm will benefit enormously.”

“Yes it will. Those damn pipes burst. There is no foolproof system for conveying anything liquid or gas under high pressure for hundreds, thousands of miles. We all know that, but we also know this country does not need to be batted around by OPEC. If, indeed, the gas would be used on our shores, not shipped to China.”

Ronnie shrugged. “I’m doing what I can with what I have and given the wildly shifting international situation, who knows? Just Saudi Arabia alone, who knows? Those were, I should say, critical issues that the CEO of Soliden must consider. The wrong call, billions! Billions!”

“Needs a crystal ball.”

“Anyone doing business with other countries does. Can you imagine being a car manufacturer? Parts are made all over the world. The public is fickle. SUVs and trucks for a couple of years, a spike in gas prices, they sit on the lot with the dealers paying monthly interest on every unsold vehicle. Gas prices drop. Sedans sit on the lot. If I can steer Soliden toward, shall we say, a more neutral path, suggest just who their interest and market is, plus competition, I have served our client well. This is about more than profit.”

“I respect anyone trying to make a go of it.” She unfolded her hands, leaning toward him. “Ronnie, maybe this has nothing to do with the pipeline. Soliden does business overseas. Doesn’t Soliden have a small position in British gas companies?”

“Does. But I doubt anyone from Britain came here to kill him. This has to be something or someone close.”

“That seems likely. Maybe we’re barking up the wrong tree. Not that I wish harm on a man I met but once, it’s Rory’s death that keeps me awake at night. I can think of no reason why he was killed unless it was bad timing.”

“Me, too.”

As she drove away in her one-year-old Tahoe, already getting beat up, Corporal and Pokerface observed the lights snaking down the drive.

“You couldn’t see anything, right?” Corporal asked.

“Like I told you when I came alongside you at the trailers, I couldn’t see, my eyelashes were stuck with snow.”

“Mine, too. Never hunted in anything like that storm. Couldn’t hear. The only way I knew you were behind me was your nose was on my flank.”

“Couldn’t smell either. All that snow blowing up my nose. I felt him go, I told you that when I got in. Just felt him ripped right off me, but I couldn’t see or smell who was there.”

“We were single file. No one to bump into us. I don’t much care but it bothers Ronnie. I like it when he’s happy,” Corporal said.

“Me, too, but I do wonder why there?” Pokerface admitted.

“I don’t know, but that place has hidden secrets for hundreds of years.” Corporal half-closed his eyes as the wind whistled outside.