Contents
Title Page
Dedication
Cast of Characters
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Author’s Note
Books by Rita Mae Brown
Praise for The Mrs. Murphy Series
Previews of The Mrs. Murphey Series
Copyright Page
To a cat queen,
Elizabeth Putnam Sinsel
Cast of Characters
Mary Minor Haristeen (Harry), the young postmistress of Crozet
Mrs. Murphy, Harry's gray tiger cat
Tee Tucker, Harry's Welsh corgi, Mrs. Murphy's friend and confidante
Pewter, Market's shamelessly fat gray cat, who now lives with Harry and family
Pharamond Haristeen (Fair), veterinarian, formerly married to Harry
Mrs. George Hogendobber (Miranda), a widow who works with Harry in the post office
Market Shiflett, owner of Shiflett's Market, next to the post office
Susan Tucker, Harry's best friend
Big Marilyn Sanburne (Mim), the undisputed queen of Crozet society
Tally Urquhart, older than dirt, she says what she thinks when she thinks it, even to her niece, Mim the Magnificent
Rick Shaw, sheriff
Cynthia Cooper, police officer
Herbert C. Jones, pastor of Crozet Lutheran Church
Blair Bainbridge, a handsome model who lives on the farm next to Harry's
Sir H. Vane-Tempest, a modern Midas who proves there is nothing like the greed of the rich
Sarah Vane-Tempest, the much younger, fabulously beautiful wife of the imperious H. Vane
Archie Ingram, as a county commissioner he has been a strong advocate of controlling development and preserving the environment. Too bad he couldn't preserve his marriage
Tommy Van Allen, tall, dark, and handsome, he's been wild as a rat ever since childhood
Ridley Kent, an easygoing man who has inherited enough money to sap all initiative. He means well
1
The intoxicating fragrance of lilacs floated across the meadow grass. Mrs. Murphy was night hunting in and around the abandoned dependencies on old Tally Urquhart's farm, Rose Hill. Once a great estate, the farm's main part continued to be kept in pristine condition. A combination of old age plus spiraling taxes, and wages forced Thalia “Tally” Urquhart, as well as others like her, to let outlying buildings go.
A huge stone hay barn with a center aisle big enough to house four hay wagons side by side sat in the middle of small one-and-a-half-story stone houses with slate roofs. The buildings, although pockmarked by broken windows, were so well constructed they would endure despite the birds nesting in their chimneys.
The hay barn, whose supporting beams were constructed from entire tree trunks, would outlast this century and the next one as well.
The paint peeled off the stone buildings, exposing the soft gray underneath with an occasional flash of rose-gray.
The tiger cat sniffed the air; low clouds and fog were moving in fast from the west, sliding down the Blue Ridge Mountains like fudge on a sundae.
Normally Mrs. Murphy would hunt close to her own farm. Often she was accompanied by Pewter, who despite her bulk was a ferocious mouser. This evening she wanted to hunt alone. It cleared her mind. She liked to wait motionless for mice to scurry in the rotting burlap feed bags, for their tiny claws to tap against the beams in the hayloft.
Since no one paid attention to the Urquhart barns, the mousing was superb. Kernels of grain and dried corn drew the little marauders in, as did the barn itself, a splendid place in which to raise young mice.
A moldy horse collar, left over from the late 1930s, its brass knobs green, hung on the tack-room wall, forgotten by all, the mules who wore it long gone to the Great Mule Sky.
Mrs. Murphy left off her mousing to explore the barn, constructed in the early nineteenth century. How lovely the farm must have once been. Mrs. Murphy prided herself on her knowledge of human history, something the two-legged species often overlooked in its rush to be current. Of course, she reflected, whatever is current today is out of fashion tomorrow.
The tiger cat, like most felines, took the long view.
Her particular human, Mary Minor Haristeen, or Harry, the young, pretty postmistress of Crozet, Virginia, evinced interest in history as well as in animal behavior. She read voraciously and expanded her understanding of animals by visiting Virginia Tech in Blacksburg and the Marion DuPont Scott Equine Research Center in Leesburg, Virginia. Harry even studied the labels on crunchy-food bags to make certain kitty nutrition was adequate. She cared for her two cats, one dog, and three horses with love and knowledge.
The flowers continued to push up around the buildings. The lilac bushes, enormous, burst forth each spring. The sadness of the decaying old place was modified by the health of the plant life.
The cat emerged from the barn and glanced at the deepening night clouds, deciding to hurry back home before the fog got thicker. Two creeks and a medium-sized ridge were the biggest obstacles. She could traverse the four miles in an hour at a trot, faster if she ran. Mrs. Murphy could run four miles with ease. A sound foxhound could run forty miles in a day. Much as she liked running, she was glad she wasn't a foxhound, or any hound, for that matter. Mrs. Murphy liked dogs but considered them a lower species, for the most part, except for the corgi she lived with, Tucker, who was nearly the equal of a cat. Not that she'd tell Tucker that. . . . Never.
She trotted away from the magical spot and loped over the long, flat pasture, once an airstrip for Tally Urquhart in her heyday, when she had shocked the residents of central Virginia by flying airplanes. Her disregard for the formalities of marriage did the rest.
Tally Urquhart was Mim Sanburne's aunt. Mim had ascended to the rank of undisputed social leader of Crozet once her aunt had relinquished the position twenty years ago. Mrs. Murphy would giggle and say to Mim's face, “Ah, welcome to the Queen of Quite a Lot.” Since Mim didn't understand cat, the grande dame wasn't insulted.
On the other side of the airfield a rolling expanse of oats just breaking through the earth's surface undulated down to the first creek.
At the creek the cat stopped. The clouds lowered; the moisture was palpable. She thought she heard a rumble. Senses razor sharp, she looked in each direction, including overhead. Owls were deadly in conditions like this.