Tail Gait

April 29, 2015

Late Afternoon

“An act of kindness?” said Cooper as she walked Shortro, a young athletic Saddlebred, on a lead rope behind Harry, who was walking another one of the brood mares into a stall.

“Well, maybe it was, Coop. I’m sure other people might feel that way.” Harry slipped off the halter, hanging it outside the stall.

Cooper, having done the same, followed Harry into the tack room, where Mrs. Murphy, Pewter, and Tucker slept on fleecy saddle pads. Harry had tried cozy dog and cat beds, which they had ignored. The fleece saddle pads it had to be, so Harry used old ones, washing them once a week. Much as Pewter might complain, the two cats and one dog really were a little spoiled.

Coop sank into the director’s chair as Harry sank into hers.

“Tea? Coke? A beer?” Harry offered.

Cooper shook her head. “No, thank you. I was so struck by Paul Huber’s comment that I had to stop by on my way home from work. What do you know about Huber?”

“Not but so much. My parents knew him, of course, and his father. Paul Jr., is midway between their age and mine. I like him. He does outstanding work. The company wins landscape design prizes.”

“Can you think of any reason he might have to kill Frank? After all, the body was found at his job site.”

Pewter, eyes open, crabby, as her nap was being interrupted by chatter, grumbled, “I found the body.”

Tucker, awakened by the cat muttering, lifted her head. “I did.”

An altercation began, hisses and barks rising in decibel level.

“Will you two shut up!” Harry said and glared.

“She’s always taking credit for my work.” Tucker’s ears drooped.

“You! Bubblebutt. Ha! I’m the brains of the outfit. I found the exposed ankle before you did.”

“I dug his foot up!” Tucker growled. “I could smell him under the dirt.”

Harry again glared, this time pointing her finger at the two, who finally shut up. Mrs. Murphy turned her back on the lot of them. She had only so much patience.

Focusing her attention on Cooper, Harry replied, “I don’t think Paul Huber could have killed Frank even if it was a mercy killing, which I very much doubt. Granted, you never really know for sure about anyone, but he doesn’t seem the type to commit murder, hide the body, and then on top of that be stupid enough to hide it where he’d just planted a river birch.”

“Yes, there is that, though the killer could hardly guess some nosybody would be snooping around there.”

Harry ignored that. “Frank hardly qualified as one of life’s useful or positive people. He aroused pity or disgust—all the more so from those who remembered his glory days. To most people walking along the mall, he was just another reeking drunk.”

“Harry, clearly, more than a pain in the ass. He was a threat. Irritating people are rarely killed. Too many of them, and too much trouble cleaning up.”

A wry smile played on Harry’s lips. “I don’t mind cleaning.”

Cooper smiled in return. “I’ve even thought that perhaps someone considered Frank a threat to Olivia.”

“The only people who knew about that were Olivia, Susan, and myself. Olivia didn’t tell her sister or mother. She was too embarrassed about going to the mall. Oh, and we ran into Sandy McAdams off the mall, so Sandy knew.”

“M-m-m.” Cooper rose. “I think I will have a beer. Mind?”

“Go ahead.” Harry nodded at the tack room’s fridge.

“Want one?”

“No.”

“I owe you a six-pack, and God knows how many tins of tea I owe you.”

“Coop, you don’t owe me a thing,” Harry said as Cooper sat back down. “Olivia lives in New Orleans. She’s safe.” She paused. “Is it safe to assume this is connected to Ginger’s murder?”

“They knew each other. Had a terrible falling out. Frank hated him. Confessed to a crime he didn’t commit.”

“Did you go back to the golf course, find the stump I told you about? I wanted to go with you, but I’m not a member and Susan told me not to call you. Said I was seeing things, jumping to wild conclusions,” Harry said.

“I did. Late in the day, just enough light to see. Better not to be a presence at Farmington.” Cooper took a long pull on the bottle. “I saw the spike marks. I’d say a man’s size ten-C. Two feet pointing toward the murder fairway, which is how I now think of it. Could be relevant. Could not, and I haven’t had time to catch up with you, especially with this latest murder.”

“Frank had to know something, and so did Ginger. These murders don’t bear the mark of thrill killings or extreme hatred. The corpses weren’t mutilated. It was just two shots. A silencer. Ginger drops. How did Frank die?” Harry asked.

“Stabbed. We’ve sent the remains to the medical examiner, but the damage was easy to see once we dug him out of there.”

Harry grimaced. “You know, I hope he was so drunk he didn’t know what was happening.”

“Me, too.” Cooper put the bottle on the desk after folding her handkerchief under it.

“Let me try something.”

Immediately wary, Cooper said, “What?”

“The homeless down on the mall, I spoke to one of them, Snoop, because he was with Frank when Frank screamed at Olivia.”

“You didn’t tell me that.”

“I wasn’t sure he knew anything important, but I thought I might go back and talk to him more.”

“Harry, that’s my job. And neither of us knows the level of danger involved in this investigation.”

“Snoop won’t talk to you. He’ll see the uniform and that will be it.”

Cooper considered the wisdom of this, nodding as she pulled out her card from her uniform pocket. “When you’re finished with him, give him this. Just in case.”

“I will. I’ve already given him my card. I thought I’d take down a basket of food. The man is rail thin. Actually, I like him.”

—

Just before sunset, long rays of sunshine turned old brick buildings coppery, rooftops glowed; there is no light quite as beautiful as the slanting afternoon rays of spring or fall. Harry carried a wicker basket. At her feet, Tucker wore a little backpack filled with a water bottle for her, and one for Harry.

Seeing Snoop once again sitting on the large planter, she waved. He smiled as she reached him.

“I hope you’re hungry,” Harry said.

“Is that for me?”

“Is.” She flipped up the hinged lid, pulled out a fat ham-and-cheese sandwich.

Peering inside, he smiled. A little cooler took up a corner.

She plucked out a grapefruit fizz drink. “Not booze, but pretty good.”

“Thank you.”

She sat beside him, and together they ate the sandwiches. Harry gave Tucker small pieces of ham. “Heard about Frank?”

He nodded, mouth full, swallowed, then said, “Killed. That’s the word down here.”

“Knifed.”

Snoop looked across the mall. “He never did anything that bad.”

“Someone thought he did.”

Snoop shook his head. “Except for that one time he blew up at that lady, you saw it, he never troubled nobody. Didn’t even panhandle. If someone tossed money in his jar, fine. If not, he blinked and didn’t say anything.”

“When was the last time you saw him?”

“The day after the big funeral, he said he ran away from the halfway house and knew the sheriff would be looking for him. The next day, he sort of checked in. Asked if they’d been looking for him. I said no. He figured he still couldn’t stay around here. Said he was headed down to the construction site around the hospital.”

“Seems like there’d be too many people over there.”

Snoop shook his head. “There’s no one around at night when they’re under construction. You sleep with a roof over your head. Same here in town. After that, I figured he’d eventually get out to one of the county subdivisions—no one around at night. Four walls and a roof. Keep you dry if it rains.”

“Think he walked?”

“Could. He was still cleaned up from his stay at the halfway house. Hadn’t had anything to drink, so he didn’t smell like old booze. Someone might have given him a ride.”

“How did he seem?”

“Okay” came the brief reply.

“Did he have any interests?”

The question caught Snoop off guard and he laughed. “Besides drinking?” When Harry nodded yes, he said, “I knew when he was going to read because he’d clean up.”

“Why?” Harry couldn’t understand what cleanliness had to do with reading.

“The library. He didn’t want to get thrown out. He’d go on these jags. Go most every day for a week or two, then pick up an odd job, stop.”

“Ever go with him?”

Brownie in hand, Snoop smiled. “Ma’am, I’m not a reader. But Frank was educated. Some of us graduated from high school. Some not, but Frank was, I think, the only college graduate on the mall. Could be wrong. We don’t much talk about stuff like that.”

“I see. Well, did he ever tell you what he was reading?”

Snoop thought for a minute. “Once he said whoever writes a book isn’t dead. Never thought of that. He liked history stuff.”

Harry smiled, watching him enjoy the triple-rich brownie. “Ginger was a history professor,” she said.

“What’s the dog’s name?”

“Tucker.”

“She’s watchful.”

Harry grinned. “She is one of my best friends.”

“I protect her,” Tucker spoke.

Snoop reached down to pat Tucker’s glossy head. “What kind of dog is she?”

“A Pembroke corgi. Like the Queen of England has.”

His eyes twinkled for a moment. “Good choice.”

“Snoop, do you still have my card?”

“Do.” He reached in his back pocket, retrieved it.

She reached in hers, handing him Cooper’s card. “Here. I know she’s a cop, but she’s my neighbor and a solid friend. Straight up. If you need her, if there’s trouble, call. She isn’t going to drag you off.”

“What kind of trouble?”

“That’s just it. I don’t know, but there’re two murders close in time, two men who knew each other, even though that connection ended back in 1975.”

“Ma’am, the professor was at one end, and Frank was down here. I don’t see how they can be connected, and I don’t see how it can touch me or any of us.” He swept his hand to indicate the others who more or less lived on the mall.

“Snoop, I hope that’s true. But if someone is frightened or needs to protect something, that person might think you know more than you do. Be watchful like Tucker.” She paused. “Actually, Snoop. Be really careful.”