“Hard to remember those sultry days now.” Fair leaned forward again as the gray cat grumbled. “Slow down, Coop. Left at the fork. Two miles up ahead you’ll see white fencing, river-stone gates with a big brass plaque set in front on the stone which reads ‘River Run.’ That’s the old Valencia farm.”
“The Watts estate.” Cooper knew it by the current owner’s name. “What a beautiful place.”
“When Mrs. Valencia owned it she’d throw these great picnics,” said Harry. “She’d invite everyone, workers, landowners, everyone from the hunt club, the churches, her children’s playmates. What parties. What wonderful days those were. Maybe it’s me, but I think people were more open then.” She spied the stone gates ahead.
“Different times,” said Fair. “Even if someone with Mrs. Valencia’s resources displayed her kindness, lack of snobbery, threw parties, who would come? How many people have the time to enjoy themselves today like they did when we were kids?” Fair ran his forefinger under his nose, feeling the stubble, and he’d shaved that morning. “Everyone works all the time. I know I do.”
“When you have the time, you don’t have the money. When you have the money, you don’t have the time,” Harry succinctly put it.
Cooper drove up to River Run’s grand main house. She was in uniform, so when Horace Watts opened the door, his expression quickly changed to one more welcoming. She explained herself. He nodded assent, then closed the door without so much as a holiday greeting.
“Mr. Comfort and Joy.” Cooper grimaced once back in the car.
“He treats his horses well, but if anyone should be visited by the Ghost of Christmas Past I expect it’s Horace Watts.” Fair laughed.
“Honey, where do you want Coop to go?”
“Sorry. Drive to the stables, the one with the double cupolas. Lucky everything has been plowed. Park in front of the stables.”
As softly as they could, the crew of three opened the main double doors—beautiful heavy oak doors, paned glass on top—and closed them behind them. The stable’s interior was also heavy oak; brass fittings gleamed and a hand-laid brick floor added to the warm feel of the stable.
Harry’s barn, also with a hand-laid brick aisle, had been built around the same time as River Run’s stables but by her ancestors, people of more modest means. Fair walked to the tack room door, also half glass.
A little dog barked.
Tucker barked back.
“Hush,” Harry whispered.
As Fair opened the door, Cooper stepped through. “Miss Rice, you’ve given people a fright.”
“I’m not doing anything,” Flo defended herself, sitting in a chair with the farm’s name embroidered on the back.
“Actually, ma’am, you’re trespassing,” Cooper informed her.
“I used to work here, you know. I could still run this place and I’m not using up Mr. Watts’s money. I read by flashlight.” She stayed in the chair.
“Ma’am, I can see that, and I bet it’s warmer in here than at home, isn’t it?”
“It is, but I didn’t turn on his baseboard heat here. It was on, I guess so the pipes don’t freeze in the bathroom. Honest. I didn’t turn it on, and Mr. Watts doesn’t even walk down to check.”
Fair, hoping to jolly her along, said, “Bet you could run it, Miss Rice. You know all Mr. Watts’s horses are in Camden, South Carolina, for the winter. Still, a place needs running.”
“Does,” she answered as Buster, her dog, leapt onto her lap.
Cooper asked, “Where is your car?”
“What’s it to you?” Flo sassed.
“Miss Rice, we’re trying to help,” said Cooper.
“I’m not telling.”
“Well, you can’t stay here, so I’ll have to take you home in my car. How will you get around? Maybe your sister will come pick up your car if you won’t tell us, but you have to leave.” Cooper’s voice was nice but firm.
“My sister! Ha.”
“Miss Rice, Deputy Cooper is right,” said Harry. “You are trespassing. You don’t want Mr. Watts to press charges.”
“Watts, what does he know? I worked for Mrs. Valencia when this place was grand. Mrs. Valencia never cut a corner or a person. She was gracious. These new people don’t know how to act. They don’t know what’s expected of them. You take care of the people who work for you. You buy one of the old Virginia places, you have to come up to the mark.”
Fair smiled at her. “Miss Rice, you’re right.”
Pleased at this, she petted Buster. He was interested in the three animals and vice versa.
Cooper wasn’t letting up. “Ma’am, gather up your things.”
“I don’t have anything. A toothbrush.”
“Miss Rice, please don’t force Deputy Cooper to call in more officers because you’re uncooperative,” Harry cajoled. “If you cooperate, things will be fine.”
“Right.” Fair beamed at Flo. “Now, where’s your car?”
She wiggled in her seat for a moment, then looked up at the tall, powerfully built man. “Next barn. The breeding shed. I drove it right in. No one’s there at all.”
“May I have the key?” he asked.
“In the ignition,” she replied.
“All right. I’ll follow you girls”—he looked at Flo when he said “girls”—“and I’ll meet you at your house. I’ll take good care of your car.”
“My house is so cold.” Flo made a face. “It’s old. I’m old.”
Cooper stepped toward her, holding out a hand. Flo took it and was pulled up, Buster under one arm.
“I built a fire before we drove over here,” said Fair. “I’ll stoke it when we get to your home.” He smiled.
“What if I don’t go?” She hesitated for a moment.
“I’ll have to call backup and we’ll have to hold you for an appraisal of your condition,” said Cooper. “And then I must put you in a cell.”
Flo raised her voice to the officer. “No! You all won’t let me keep Buster.”
“I will personally take him to the Albemarle County SPCA. He will receive good care. Now, what will it be, ma’am?”
Buster whimpered, “Don’t take me away.”
Tucker comforted the small dog. “Don’t worry. Cooper’s bluffing. She doesn’t want to do any of this. Make your human see reason.”
Buster licked Flo’s face.
Flo announced, “I’ll go back home.”
“Good. Your sister is worried about you,” Cooper said.
“She wants to kill me.”
Christmas underscored Arden and Tyler’s misery. She did her best to wrap gifts, place them under the silver tree with the blue lights, balls, and silver garlands that Lou adored.
While Flo resisted Cooper and the Haristeens before finally coming around, the Highams sat in silence. Tyler fiddled with his iPad.
Finally Arden said, “I don’t really like an all-silver-and-blue tree. What about you?”
“I don’t care. Dad always had to be different.”
Lou’s ashes, in the urn, wrapped in silver and blue ribbons, matched the tree.
“He did. But if you gave in on the little things like silver and blue, you often won on the big things. Not that we argued all that much.”
“He saved that for me,” Tyler sullenly replied.
Arden put her feet up on the hassock. “He wanted the best and, like most fathers, he thought if he kept pounding away on the same note, you’d hear the music.”
Tyler glowered. “He didn’t think I was smart enough to be a doctor. Said I’d fail organic chemistry. I’m not even in my junior year and I’ve read the eleventh-grade chemistry book. Done some of the experiments. I’ll pass organic chemistry. Just wait.”
“Honey, organic chemistry is a long way away. You are a smart young man. The chemistry teacher at St. Anne’s certainly thinks so. That’s why he tutors you.”