Gray said,“Bill, the silent auction will close in half an hour. Why don’t you make an announcement after the next dance for people to go in there and close out the bids? Your voice will carry over the noise.”
Bill assented and left.
“I know he’s a big landowner. I know he’s paid for this ball and pumps money into the club, but he better never put a hand on Lorraine again or I will kill him.”
Lorraine, still shivering, said,“Honey, if he values his teeth he won’t even look at me.”
This brightened Shaker up a bit.“Here I am blowing off steam and you’re shivering. Come on. Let’s go back inside.”
As Gray was steering Shaker and Lorraine in a direction where he hoped they would not run into Crawford or Marty, Crawford, white-lipped with rage, stormed out of the Great Hall, leaving Marty in the lurch.
He was so mad he was deaf to his wife’s entreaties.
Walter put his arm through Marty’s as she started after Crawford. “Let him walk it off.”
“You don’t know Crawford. When he gets like this nothing good can come of it.” Concern shone on her face. “He’s unpredictable.”
“Would you like me to talk to him?”
“No.” She shook her head. “Let me find him.”
“Then let me go with you. And get your coat. No point freezing as we search the grounds.”
By the time they emerged, sufficiently bundled up, Crawford was roaring down the road to the kennels, eight miles away. Marty threw up her hands, as she was left in the lurch again.
A hired hand hit him. That was bad enough. But this hired hand thought he was a fool, couldn’t ride, and knew nothing about hounds. He’d show that arrogant son of a bitch huntsman that he could handle hounds as well as Shaker.
It wasn’t rocket science. It’s a bunch of dogs.
He screeched to a halt by the kennels. He knew the party wagon would be parked by the draw run.
He backed the trailer to the gates, got out, slid them open, then closed them on either side of the trailer so hounds couldn’t scoot out.
That wasn’t so hard.
Then he walked to the dog run, opened the gate, walked to the bitch run, opened the gate, and watched as the hounds, a bit confused but willing, walked down the large kennel aisle. He opened the door to the draw run. They filed in, then walked onto the party wagon. He shut the doors to the trailer, closed the runs. Then he walked into the office and took Shaker’s walking-out horn and placed it through his white vest buttons.
He double-checked the back trailer door when he pulled away from the gates. Soon he was on his way back to Custis Hall.
“Anyone can handle hounds,” he said to himself, his jaw still aching.
In a way he was right. The Jefferson Hunt hounds were easy to handle because Sister and Shaker poured their love and life into their pack.
Meanwhile, Bill Wheatley announced the silent auction had but a half hour to run. The band took a break so people walked back into the room to bid anew. Valentina, Tootie, and Pamela finally got into the room as they’d had no time up until now. Felicity and Howard also walked in.
The girls admired the saddle from Horse Country in Warrenton. There was even a bridle of English leather with the bit, English steel, the best, sewn in, which Jim Meads, the famous photographer, had sent over from England. As they slowly walked down the long rows of tables they marveled at the items.
They stopped dead in front of the gold ring with the oval onyx stone. The script on a white card read,“Ring donated by Target, the red fox living at After All Farm.”
For a moment no one said a word. Knute Nilsson, also getting into the room for the first time, was moving toward them. He didn’t want to buy anything, but knew he had to put his name on some small item and hope someone would soon outbid him.
He stopped at the ring, too, noticing the stunned expressions on the girls’ faces.
“Girls, are you unwell?” Then his eyes took in the ring, a flicker of the eyelids.
“Mr. Nilsson, this is Professor Kennedy’s ring.”
“Well, perhaps she donated it,” he replied.
“No, it says Target the fox,” Pamela answered.
“Professor Kennedy wasn’t a foxhunter,” Valentina said.
“She knew everyone here was and this is a hunt ball.” He shrugged, seeing Bill walk toward him out of the corner of his eye.
“Professor Kennedy had no sense of humor.” Tootie felt her stomach sink, a nameless dread overtaking her, but she kept her wits. “It must be some mistake. Come on, gang.” She smiled brightly at Knute and Bill, who now reached him, and dragged the girls with her. “Shut up. Just shut up,”she hissed under her breath.
As the girls walked away, Sam Lorillard noticed a heated, whispered conversation between Knute and Bill, both men’s faces red as fire.
Tootie dragged Valentina, Pamela, Felicity, and Howard to Sister, luckily talking to Charlotte during the break in the music.
“Hello, girls,” Sister smiled. “This is the best ball we’ve ever had, thanks to your efforts.”
“Sister, Mrs. Norton, something’s really wrong.” Tootie kept her voice low, her breath in short gasps.
“What is it?” Charlotte instinctively put her arm around Tootie’s shoulders as the others looked on.
“Professor Kennedy’s ring is in the auction.” Valentina supplied the answer.
The release of the identity of the corpse would be made Monday. The girls did not know that Professor Kennedy was dead. Only Charlotte, Sister, Gray, and Ben Sidel knew that. Even Walter didn’t know.
“Oh, God!” Charlotte blurted out.
Very calmly Sister said,“Girls, not a word. Not yet.” She almost said “Your life may depend on it,” but figured they were upset enough.
She motioned to Gray, who came over. The little group walked back to the silent auction.
The ring, not a hot item, had garnered few bidders, but Knute Nilsson was one. He bid $100.
“It’s Professor Kennedy’s ring,” Tootie declared.
Charlotte nodded,“Yes, it is.”
“Mrs. Norton, she wouldn’t part with her ring,” Tootie said.
“What are you saying, Tootie?” Pamela began to feel Tootie’s fear.
“She’s dead,” Tootie barely whispered.
“Why? And wouldn’t we know?” Pamela resisted this.
Sister stepped in.“Girls, come with me.”
Sister, Gray, Charlotte, Tootie, Valentina, Pamela, and Felicity followed, as did Howard. Sister and Charlotte spoke low to each other.
Charlotte quietly told the girls that Professor Kennedy was the corpse under St. John’s of the Cross. The positive I.D. would be released Monday. Until the lab in Richmond verified the remains, she wouldn’t announce Professor Kennedy’s death.
“Where’s the sheriff?” Felicity asked.
“On duty. That’s why he’s not here tonight,” Charlotte said.
“Shouldn’t he see the ring?” Tootie asked.
“Yes,” Charlotte answered.
“I’ll call him. Honey, do you have your cell phone stuck somewhere?” Sister asked Gray, who pulled the tiniest, flattest phone out from his inside breast pocket.
As she was calling, Pamela said to Charlotte,“This is about the slave work, isn’t it?”
“I don’t know,” Charlotte honestly replied. “But I believe it certainly has something to do with whatever is in those cases.”
Before anyone could respond to that a hell of a commotion erupted in the Great Hall.
Crawford let loose the hounds, horn to lips, and he was bearing down on Shaker, stunned at this perfidy.
“You dumb son of a bitch!” Crawford bellowed. “I can hunt these hounds.”
Sister, Gray, Charlotte, the girls, and Howard ran into the room as fast as their finery would allow them.
Tootie, wearing not high heels but dancing slippers, lifted her skirts, ran up the steps to the bandstand, then jumped off. She reached Crawford before Shaker did. The hounds milled around causing havoc, eating leftovers on plates. Tootie put her body in front of Crawford’s as Shaker reached them.