“She reminds me of my aunt, who lived in great fear that she’d miss something. If she were alive today I expect she’d be the first person to buy a wrist TV.” Sister grinned remembering Aunt Sian.
“Some people are like that.”
“Did you all like my song?” Bitsy then broke into the chorus.
“Bitsy, for God’s sake, have mercy.” Sister grimaced.
“Ha ha,” Athena laughed louder now.
“I remembered the words,” Bitsy said and prepared for another go.
“Save your voice, dear. The night is young.” Athena appealed to the little owl’s ego.
“You’re so right. I hadn’t thought of that.” Bitsy ruffled her light-colored chest feathers.“Winter’s here.”
“Yes.” Athena watched the two humans sitting quietly.“They have owl-like qualities, those two. They silently watch. Neither one is quick to move until sure of the game.”
“Still think it’s a pity about their eyes.” Bitsy made a crackling sound with her sharp beak.
“We don’t need them mucking about in the dark. They’d just get in the way. There’s enough trouble with the coyote coming in and hunting at night. Imagine if the humans were out there with them. Between the two of them, they’d flush our game.”
When Gray arrived with the required items, it didn’t take Sister and Shaker longer than twenty minutes to get the pretty young gray fox into the cage. One of the reasons, apart from their skill, was that Athena called down to Georgia, telling her she’d be better off cooperating and a much better home awaited her.
Upon seeing her, Sister remarked,“She’s dark gray but not black like her mother. Bet she has her mother’s intelligence.”
While Shaker settled Georgia into the big traveling crate, Sister met with Ben and Ty waiting in her kitchen.
Gray offered the men a drink, which they declined, but they eagerly downed Sister’s fresh coffee. It might be a long night for them.
“I hope you can lift a print.” Gray sat across from Ben at the old kitchen table.
“Not much chance, but we can always hope. A better shot is a strand of human hair, anything like that, a spot of blood.”
Sister commented,“Whoever it is knows where the dens are. Has to be someone who has hunted with us for years.”
“Could be a deer hunter.” Ben had to consider every angle.
“Yes, it could. Donnie Swiegart knows where the dens are. Not that he’d kill Al Perez.” Swiegart was a local man who was as passionate about deer hunting as she was about foxhunting, the difference being that he ate what he brought down whereas she never brought anything down.
Shaker opened the door to the mudroom. They heard him stamp his feet. He hung up his worn buffalo plaid coat, then opened the door into the kitchen.
“Coffee?”
“How about green tea?”
“Green tea?” Ben’s eyebrows raised.
“Lorraine got me hooked on drinking green tea at night.” He smiled. “You know, I really feel better. I feel clean from the inside out, sort of.”
“Better try it, Chief,” Ty said, suppressing a smile.
“What’s wrong with you?” Sister directed this at Ben.
“Nothing. I have a little insomnia, that’s all.”
“Green tea will help.” Shaker flicked the round black knob on the big gas stove.
“So will milk. Ben, you have too much on you and this county just doesn’t give you and your department enough money. No wonder you can’t sleep. You can only do but so much. If you don’t take care of yourself we’re all up a creek without a paddle.” Sister was sympathetic.
“Right.” Ty smiled shyly at the master, then glanced at his mentor and superior.
The fire cracked in the huge walk-in fireplace, topped by a wooden mantel, the ax lines cut in 1788 still visible. The kitchen was the oldest part of the house. The rest had been built when the federal style was prevalent.
Gray leaned forward.“Two Zorros.”
“Yes, it seems that way,” Ben replied. “Charlotte and Carter passed a Zorro on the way to their car that night, then passed Zorro again going in the opposite direction. They assumed Al had forgotten something in his office.”
“It’s baffling. Al was in full costume when he was found, and now this.” Sister rose as the teapot boiled.
“Boss, I’ll get that.” Shaker got up, too.
“I want one myself.”
“Go sit down. I’ll do it.”
She returned to her seat.
“Bill Wheatley said there had only been one, the one Al checked out when I questioned him the day after the murder. He’d gone straight to the costume storage area to make certain the costume Al wore really was from Custis Hall. It was.” Ben tapped his forefinger on the table.
“Two Zorros,” Sister echoed Gray. “It occurs to me that while people thought they were seeing Al, they were seeing the second Zorro.”
“Possible.” Ben turned toward Ty. “Check out costume rentals in Virginia tomorrow. Might get lucky.”
“I wonder if Al knew there was a second Zorro?” Gray found this all disquieting.
“You’d think he wouldn’t willingly go off with another Zorro, now wouldn’t you?” Shaker was baffled.
“You’d think.” Ben dropped his eyes. “Like I told you last week, Sister, Al did not die by a clean snap of the neck. He strangled up there. Whoever killed him didn’t or couldn’t do it fast. And there wasn’t a mark on him. No sign of a struggle.”
Sister’s eyes widened. “An ugly way to die.”
Gray considered the situation.“Well, honey, if Al had been cleanly killed before he was hanged, that would be one thing. Actually, it would make this easier to understand. You’d think he’d fight like hell even with hands bound not to climb that ladder. Did he willingly put his neck in the noose or was he tricked into it?”
“He couldn’t be that dumb,” Shaker exploded.
“Dumb? Or trusting?” Sister evenly replied.
C H A P T E R 1 6
“Careful.” Professor Kennedy’s voice sharpened.
“Sorry.” Pamela, wearing thin plastic surgical gloves as did the others, placed an iron snaffle bit on white cloth.
As she arranged it, Felicity, using a digital camera, snapped photos.
Pamela started to pick it up.
“Pamela, where is your mind today?” The good professor was becoming irritated. “Tootie has to measure it.”
“I forgot. I think my blood sugar is low.” Pamela did not sound convinced by her own excuse. Then she laughed. “My father’s sister says, ‘Got the suga’, suga’ runs in the family.’ ”
“Does. It’s more prevalent among us than whites.” Professor Kennedy leaned over with her magnifying glass. Finding nothing too interesting in the bit, which had been made in a mold, then sanded for smoothness, she indicated that it should be replaced.
Tootie thought the smoothness of the metal impressive. She tapped the small measuring tape, bright yellow, against her thigh.
Professor Kennedy brought out a pair of epaulettes.“H-m-m, color much better than I would have anticipated. Military uniforms were big business throughout Europe, Russia, the whole New World. When uniforms began to simplify, thousands of people were out of work. It’s the little things like that that make history real.”
Pamela gingerly took the epaulettes, the hanging gold tendrils of metallic thread springing slightly. Professor Kennedy took them back from her and peered intently through her magnifying glass. She said nothing but placed them herself on the white cloth.
“Shoot?” Felicity asked.
“Yes. And then shoot upside down,carefully. I need both sides.”
Valentina, books under her arm, walked by as the bell rang.“Hey, I got out two minutes early. Hello, Professor Kennedy. I’m here to help.”
“Good. You can—” She didn’t finish, as Knute Nilsson walked up from the wide hall leading to the administrative offices.
“Professor Kennedy, I’m surprised your eyes aren’t red from mold and dust,” he joked.