“Dream on,” she barked from her den.
Once outside, Weevil mounted, Showboat being held by Tootie.
He looked at his beautiful whipper-in and asked, “What about casting to the Old Lorillard place? We can take the long way back if we don’t find.”
“Sure.”
He headed in that direction. Betty was already on the road. Sister and Gray brought up the rear.
Noses down, hounds worked. The trail, narrow, meant ducking every now and then to spare yourself a whack from a low-hanging branch.
Cardinal Wolsey warned Aztec, “Someone’s behind us.”
As horses have almost three-sixty-degree vision, Aztec replied, “I don’t see anything but I can hear a crunch now.”
Weevil tooted the horn up ahead. As he did so a black-clad figure, lumberjack cap pulled down and a black virus mask over his face, even over his nose, stepped behind Gray, ran alongside, and pulled him off Cardinal Wolsey.
“Aztec.”
Aztec slowed but Sister tried to urge him on.
The black-clad man pulled a gun, pointing it at Gray’s head.
Sister turned to say something to Gray. He wasn’t there. He always kept up. She knew he didn’t fall off or she would have heard.
Stopping, she listened then turned just in case there was a strange accident and he was knocked out. She soon saw Gray, gun to his head, standing on the ground with Cardinal Wolsey at his side.
Curious, Aunt Netty emerged from her den to peep out of one of the long windows. She crept out of the forge and hid in the bushes so she could watch. She knew who Sister was. The human put food out once every two weeks for her. Aunt Netty didn’t much mind that Sister hunted her on horseback. After all, humans are inept.
The old red vixen also knew what a gun was. Lifting her head back she yodeled as loud as she could. “Hounds, come back. Come back now.”
Trident, bringing up the rear, heard this, as did Aero. “Diana, Diana, turn back.”
Diana stopped, as did the pack. They could just hear Aunt Netty calling. “Come back. Come back.”
“She’s crazy.” Giorgio moved forward.
“No, she’s not. Let’s go. Something’s not right.” Diana turned.
Running now, the pack moved back toward the forge. Weevil had no choice but to turn with them. Tootie and Betty also turned. No one knew what was going on but hounds were now in full cry.
“Goddammit, I’ll shoot those worthless curs,” a familiar voice cursed.
“Carter.” Sister was aghast.
“The same.” He executed a mock bow, never taking the gun off Gray.
Aunt Netty showed herself as she moved back toward the forge. Sister saw her, as did Gray. Carter did not, but hounds were closing.
Hounds jumped into the forge. Weevil quickly rode up behind. Carter took a shot at him through the closest window, which creased his left coat arm. Weevil flung himself on the ground.
“Tootie, Betty, keep away. Someone’s got a gun on Gray and Sister!”
Weevil next dove through a window as Carter fired again. The bullet ricocheted off the stone walls.
Betty, hearing the shot, dismounted, started creeping toward the forge. Tootie, on the other side, did the same. Neither woman had a .38 but each had a pistol with rat shot and each carried her pistol, not knowing the other woman was doing likewise. Tootie also carried her crop. The shots heightened their senses.
Weevil, back flat against the inside wall, slowly moved toward a faraway window. His idea was to climb out and then go around the forge to see if there was a way to disarm whoever that was.
Carter knew he couldn’t walk Sister and Gray out now that Weevil was there with the pack. He’d have to shoot them all.
Betty could now see Sister and Gray held at gunpoint. She knew the pack was in the forge. Tootie, on the far side of the forge, could make out through the windows that Sister and Gray were standing still. She saw Weevil inside. She stepped through a window. He put his finger to his lips.
He jerked his thumb toward a window behind him, then made a gun out of his forefinger and thumb. She understood.
Betty slowly made her way through the bushes. She knew if she made noise or the black-clad figure saw bushes moving, he’d shoot in that direction.
She reached the edge of the thicket. “I’m over here. You won’t get away with it.”
Carter fired a shot in her direction.
That fast, Tootie, now on the other side of the forge, stood in the open window, fired her rat shot right at the black-clad figure. She hit him. He yelled and whirled around. Gray, tall and strong, pushed him to the ground as he whirled. Tootie leapt out the window, as did Weevil.
The two men subdued him as Betty appeared, her gun held level. Rat shot it might be, but if she shot his face, he’d be blind.
Weevil grabbed Carter’s wrist, his knee in the man’s back as Gray took the edge of his hand and smashed it on Carter’s throat. As Carter started to cough and double over a bit, Gray pulled him back up; Weevil took both balled-up fists and crashed them on the back of his head. Tootie, next to him now, hit him with all her might with the back of the gun. He crumpled.
Weevil reached down to tear off his mask.
“Good God,” Betty exclaimed then went to Sister and Gray. “Are you all right?”
Gray put his arms around Sister. She rested her head on his shoulder for a second then looked into his eyes. “I was scared to death he’d shoot you.”
“Betty, call Ben Sidell,” Weevil ordered, a huntsman used to commanding his whipper-in.
Tootie was kneeling down tying up Carter’s hands behind him with her crop thong. “What’s this about?”
“I made a foolish mistake.” Sister reached for Aztec to give him a pat while the hounds, having had a full discussion with Aunt Netty, came out to sit down by Weevil.
“What could you have done? I mean, he must be crazy.” Betty wanted to kick his teeth in.
Instead she reached into her pocket, pulled out a large handkerchief, stuffed it in his mouth. “I don’t want to hear what he says when he comes to.” She pulled her cellphone from her inside pocket, dialed the sheriff’s cell number.
“Are all the horses okay?” Sister asked.
Weevil whistled as Betty and Tootie called out. Their good four-footed friends came to them.
Cardinal Wolsey said to Iota and Outlaw, “You won’t believe what happened. I knew someone was following us.”
A spirited equine discussion followed.
Betty clicked off her phone. “What was foolish?”
Sister, leaning on Gray now, knew she was more shocked than she had at first realized. “I didn’t think of it until I heard his voice. We were talking on the phone about the new restrictions over this virus. Then he told me the painting of Catherine Clay-Neal had been stolen from the museum.”
“It had,” Betty replied.
“Yes, but it wasn’t made public until the next day and when I talked to O.J., she told me it was not yet in the news and how did I know? I replied that Carter told me. She said he had good connections in Lexington. I never put two and two together. He could only have known that early if he was in on it.”
Tootie, heel on Carter’s tied hands, said, “But Carter didn’t know you realized he told you before anyone else.”
Weevil, brushing his coat where the bullet had creased the arm, said, “He slipped.”
“But so did I. I called him last night to ask about famous art thefts. He knew some and we had a good talk. Then I told him what I thought about Munnings’s first wife, Florence Carter-Wood. I was getting too close.”
They heard a siren in the distance, then closer, then turned off. Ben knew exactly where they were and that the last part would be on foot. He had two young officers with him.
“Sister. Gray. Is everyone all right?” Ben reached them, looked down at Carter. “See if you two can drag him out.” He looked at the crop, knelt down to untie it, handing it back to Tootie, who’d held her hand out. “Can someone tell me what happened?”