Simon gnawed on the molasses.
Pharaoh set them free, and they made it to the Red Sea. But Ramses repented of his generosity, so he came after them with his army.
Went back on his word. Thats a bad thing.
Simon, a Southern possum, knew that your word was your bond.
Well, Moses arrived at the Red Sea, so he had water in front of him and Pharaoh barreling down on him from behind. I guess Ramses would have killed all of them or maybe just killed some and enslaved the others again. Anyway, it was not an appetizing prospect. So Moses threw open his arms, and the Red Sea parted.
Huh?
Simons jaw hung slack.
The sea opened, and the Jews hurried along the path. Well, Pharaoh rode right in after them, and he was halfway through the open path when the last of the former slaves set foot on dry ground and the sea closed.
Simons eyes grew moist.
Those poor horses.
Then he whispered,
I hope they didnt hear.
He nodded to indicate the sleeping horses below.
Shortro, the gray Saddlebred who had just turned four, flopped on his side, snoring at full throttle.
How can you sleep with that racket?
Mrs. Murphy peered over the side to see the horses.
You get used to it. Hes good company, Shortro.
Im going home. I didnt hunt much this evening. Lost the impulse. Huntings good when the moon waxes.
Tomorrow night
Simon meant the night of April 12
it will be one big party. Feels like rain, though. That will keep most everyone holed up.
Mrs. Murphy backed down the ladder to the hayloft, then took a moment to hop on one of the large tack trunks containing extra horse blankets outside Shortros stall. There he was, on his side, eyes closed, lips moving with each gargantuan snore. The young gelding had a clear conscience, for he could sleep at the drop of a hat.
The sleek cat slipped through the animal door into the tack room, where the mice were carrying sweet-feed grains behind the old small tack trunk there.
Clean this up,
she warned.
Will
came the reply, and the fat fellow disappeared behind the trunk, his long tail staying in sight for an extra moment.
Just to be sure, Mrs. Murphy walked outside and checked the feed room. Harry rarely forgot to close the lid on the zinc-lined feed containers, which were big enough for a person to stand in. But, as always, some grain was scattered on the floor as well as under the buckets in the stalls. Sweet feed smelled delicious.
Satisfied, the cat exited through the animal door by the big sliding outside doors. The hayloft door was shut, or she would have waved to Simon. Flatface the owl flew directly into the cupola. In summer, she often swooped through the hayloft, which pleased the owl because it gave Simon a start.
With the trees denuded except for the conifers, Mrs. Murphy could see almost out to the mailbox. A rumble stopped her. A pair of headlightsclose together, like those on a Jeep Wranglercame into view. The vehicle, which she couldnt see very well, stopped. The headlights switched off. However, she heard the motor hum, then she saw the vehicle back out a ways and turn around. She barely saw the lights switch back on before the vehicle made the turn two hundred yards from the state road, a two-lane dirt road along this section. A mile north, the road became paved; a mile south, the old road intersected a crossroads, which was also paved. Harry was grateful that her part of the road remained gravel. It kept the traffic down, as people didnt use it much for shortcuts.
By now it was 3:45 A.M. The moon had moved along in the sky. Perhaps the driver had been coming home from a late night of partying or a late night at work and made a wrong turn. Still, Mrs. Murphy didnt like it. Her view was that if humans were up late, they were loaded on something. Or there was trouble in their personal life. Cats were nocturnal. Humans were not.
She pushed through the animals opening in the outdoor porch door, which in summer was screened, then through the main door into the kitchen.
Inez, who couldnt sleep, was drinking more tea, sitting in front of her laptop.
Mrs. Murphy brushed against Inezs leg.
Your fur is cold. Inez reached down to pet Mrs. Murphys head, which displayed the M that some tiger cats had.
Cats and some humans believed an M on the top of a tiger cats head meant the cat was descended from the cat who stayed with the Virgin Mary and Jesus. The cat slept in the manger in Bethlehem. So they were marked as Marys cats.
Mrs. Murphy jumped onto a chair adjacent to Inezs. She did not get on the table. She kept company with Inez until Fair came down the steps from the bedroom at 5:30 A.M. She could hear water running in the pipes under the sink, so she knew Harry was up, as well.
Are you all right? Fair asked, as he tightened the tie on his robe around him.
No. I cant sleep. Im wasting time researching municipal bonds. Then I switched over to various theories about why people murder.
Fair pressed the red button on the electric coffeepot. Harry had set up coffee the night before. She drank tea, but she made good coffee. He was grateful.
He sat down across from Inez. You need to go to bed.
Ignoring this suggestion, Inez put down her mechanical pencil. Shed been filling up a red and black notebook with bits of information from her computer. I know.
Turn off the computer, he suggested gently.
She did. I wonder how long it will be before the authorities tell us how Mariah died.
And when. Fair got up as the coffeepot beeped.
You know, this forensics stuff is not as easy as they make it look on TV.
Wont be TV fast, but I bet the forensics experts will get the information out fast enough. Otherwise, they look inadequate.
Youd think theyd suppress it. You know, fears of a killer walking Fultons streets.
He shook his head. Better to keep people informed, ask for their help via tips, quell panic. As theres only one body, hopefully people
havent hit their panic button yet. And since the victim is a middle-aged woman, it would appear the students are safe.
God knows, I hope so. Inezs eyes fluttered, her head dropped.
Fair put his filled mug back on the counter, gently woke her, and walked her back to the bedroom. She sat on the bed, her head bobbing again. He lifted her legs, laid her flat, and pulled a wool throw over her. He kissed her on the cheek and returned to the kitchen.
A
unt Tallys long mahogany dining-room table was covered with neat piles of papers. Inez sat across from Aunt Tally, while Liz Filmore sat at the head of the table.
Each woman had her year-to-date investments printed out, along with graphs. As a point of comparison, Liz included a month-by-month breakdown from last year, also with colored graphics. In front of her she had copies of each womans portfolio plus a small lined notebook, a wafer-thin computer, and a pencil.
Harry was over at Little Mims. She didnt wish to intrude. Aunt Tally probably wouldnt have cared, but Liz might have. As Aunt Tally and Inez rarely compared investment strategies and notes, Liz had suggested they go through everything together. They liked the idea, even though Aunt Tally had never been much for learning about how her money was invested. Of late, she was making a stab at it.
Flip to page three. Liz waited until each woman turned to the correct page. Look at the pie-shaped graphic and compare it with last years. She leaned toward Aunt Tally, pointing with her pencil to the red wedges on the paper. Thats the proportion of your earnings differing from last year.