11
A pair of brilliant turquoise eyes peered out of the passenger side of the car. Sissi, a gray tuxedo cat, was irritated that her human, Rose Marie Dunlap, was chatting at the gas pump at the Amoco station.
Sissi accompanied the always well-turned-out Rose Marie on her regular trips from Washington, D. C., to Crozet. She enjoyed riding in the car but she enjoyed arriving at their destination even more, the farm of Rose Marie’s daughter, Beth Marcus.
“I haven’t seen you in ages.” Rose Marie smiled.
“You know it’s been years since I’ve been back here.” Marshall Kressenberg, florid, bent over to shake her hand. “I was coming back from Lexington, Kentucky, and thought I’d stop by to see some of my old running buddies. Course, I should have called first. Everyone’s out and about.” He accented “out and about” the Virginia way, which also sounds Canadian. “You’re looking well.”
And indeed, Rose Marie Dunlap’s appearance—petite, fresh, and healthy—belied her eighty-six years.
“I keep busy. For one thing, Sissi keeps me busy.”
At the sound of her name Sissi meowed, “Let’s go to Beth’s now!”
Marshall laughed as the cat continued to jabber. “Well, I’m so glad to see you.” He opened the door to his truck.
“I read your name in the sports pages. I’m glad you’ve done so well.”
He closed the door, window down. “It’s a good thing the horses are running and not me. I wouldn’t make it to the first pole.” He laughed, cut on the motor, and drove off.
“We can go now,” Sissi grumbled.
Rose Marie slid behind the wheel. “You can be so impatient.”
Marshall switched on his cell phone, dialing Big Mim’s barn number. Big Mim had a good breeding program, good but small. He wouldn’t mind seeing what she had before the sales. The barn recording came on. He disconnected and headed out toward I-64. Tavener could tell him what Mim had on the ground. Maybe it was just as well no one was around. He’d get pulled into long conversations, and he needed to get back to Maryland.
Too much going on in the horse world right now.