They spoke at once as they heard Carter’s feet being dragged through the narrow path. Eventually everyone got their story out except for Cardinal Wolsey and Aztec.
“Bear down on him regarding Florence Carter-Wood,” Sister told Ben.
“I will. Then again, don’t expect anyone in custody to tell the truth. We’ll see.” He looked at the hounds. “Quite a day.”
“Yes, it was.” The hunt staff spoke over one another with the same reply in a sense.
“Does anyone need a ride back?”
“Ben, we’ll ride back. Hounds need to go,” Sister said. “Thank you.”
“Thank you. If we can pin this on him it will be quite a sensation.” Before everyone mounted up, Sister hugged each one. “Sorry, I can’t obey the six feet. Thank you. Thank you so much.”
Gray shook Weevil’s hand, kissed Betty then Tootie on the cheek. “I have no doubt he would have shot me or used Sister and me as hostages. Your placing yourselves in danger saved us. I don’t know how to thank you.”
Betty stepped into Weevil’s cupped hand and mounted Outlaw. “You know, the strange thing is, I didn’t think about the danger.”
“Me, neither,” Weevil echoed her.
“Me, neither.” Tootie swung up. “You just act. You know? If you think about something too much you’re paralyzed. All I wanted was a clear shot. I knew Betty was out there. Weevil was next to me, of course. We had to subdue Carter before he pulled the trigger.”
“I owe you my life, Gray’s life. It’s a gratitude that can’t really be expressed.”
“Sister, who knows what you’ll do for us someday?” Weevil replied. “All right, children, let’s walk home.”
CHAPTER 36
March 14, 2020 Saturday 4:00 pm
Shaken or not, when hounds returned to Roughneck Farm at one in the afternoon, chores needed to be done. Each hunting hound had paws inspected before being sent to their kennels with a full stomach. Given the rain, no temperature drop but rawness, Weevil warmed up the food. The kennels, efficient, had a small stove off the large feed room for such occasions as well as for helping anyone in sick bay. Despite all, this had been a lucky year in terms of health. Not one hound came down with Lyme disease, bad sniffles, or deep cuts.
Once hounds were curled up in their bunks and the condos, Weevil and Tootie walked over the herringbone brick walkway to the stables. Laid decades ago, too expensive to do now, the brick had gained the patina of age. Rain or not, Weevil was glad for changing his boots into workboots, a rubber tread. Tootie had done likewise. The adrenaline of foiling Carter’s murderous plans had vanished. They were tired.
Walking into the center aisle, their Barbour coats dripping rain, they arrived to help put blankets on the horses, all of whom had been wiped down then left to dry off totally, which they did.
Those outside were brought in as well, although Keepsake didn’t want to leave his run-in shed. He’d hunt in the rain but he didn’t want to stand in it or walk through it. Finally, Weevil wooed him in.
Sister, surprisingly calm for a woman who had a Glock 30 pointed at her, finished up with Aztec. Betty finished, too.
“Well, let’s do the tack. It only gets more onerous if we wait.” Betty walked into the warm tack room.
The others followed, each carrying their hunt bridle over their shoulder. Then they walked back to the center aisle to fetch their saddles.
Sister advised, “Hang your saddle pads over the railing there. They’re all wet.”
Back in the tack room, bridles on bridle hooks, they worked, feeling the supple leather between their fingertips.
As they were too far apart to talk while bringing hounds back, now they did.
Betty, of course, started. “I had no idea. Not even a hint.”
“No one did, Betty. You’d think seeing all his new purchases year after year we would have figured out he had a sideline apart from antique jewelry.” Sister wrung out a sponge.
“So you think he’s been stealing for years? Art?” Tootie asked.
“Stealing, but I don’t know what. I doubt he stole jewelry, because clients would have sooner or later figured that out. Someone might recognize old pieces. You know, like the Erté ring Yvonne bought last Christmas. It wasn’t stolen, of course, but many foxhunters would recognize it because the deceased owner wore it to hunt balls. That sort of thing,” Sister said.
“He could have pried out the jewels, replacing them with fakes. That would bring a lot of money,” Weevil suggested. “It would, but the people he sold to, like Delores Buckingham, would have everything appraised by a local jeweler. He couldn’t afford it.”
“His jewelry ran to the thousands. Thirty thousand and more for those pieces with big jewels. True old pearls. Think of Antique Hunt jewelry, the stuff E. B. Stutts has. Horns, lovely gold stock pins, lots of crops. Some of it can be a thousand or more but most of it is affordable.”
Betty, using a clean cloth now, wiped down the cleaned bridle. “E.B. can find Jasperware. Do you know how much I want a teapot and creamer, sugar boat? Oh, I love that stuff.”
“Carter’s competition would have been Marion at Horse Country but he wisely left the hunting stuff, the expensive jewelry, to her. Although once he offered a pin owned by the late Mrs. Markey, of her racing colors, all in precious stones. But in the main he did not go for that. And shocking as all this is, he did have a great eye.” Sister gave him credit.
“What were her colors?” Tootie asked.
“Devil’s red and blue. But those were sold to a Brazilian investment group,” Sister replied.
“You can do that? Sell your colors?” Tootie was aghast.
“Yes.” Sister shrugged. “Remember Citation raced under that devil’s red and blue. He’s my hero, Citation.” Sister smiled. “Back to Carter. How did you all know Gray and I were trapped at Pattypan Forge?”
Weevil wiped his hands. “We didn’t. Betty, Tootie, and I had hounds marching toward the Old Lorillard place and they stopped. Just stopped. I could see how intently they listened and then they turned and ran back. I thought maybe they picked up another line. Once I got near I could see Cardinal Wolsey and Aztec, but I couldn’t see you all clearly. Knew something was wrong, then hounds blasted into the forge and he took a potshot at me.”
“For me, I saw Weevil’s horse ground-tied.”
“Same here. Saw Iota and Aztec. Something wasn’t right. All I had was rat shot but it would help.” Betty added, “Of course, we didn’t know who it was because of the black breathing mask, he was all in black with a black lumberjack cap. Hadn’t a clue. But once I jumped into the forge, he heard me and, well, you were there. So I knew he had a gun.”
“You all were incredibly brave,” Sister again praised them, overwhelmed.
Betty laughed. “It’s odd, Sister, but I have been more frightened taking a four-foot drop into a hard-running creek. Anyway, I had a gun.”
“Me, too.” Tootie smiled. “When the mask came off I couldn’t believe it.”
“Evil often wears a friendly face.” Sister sighed.
“That’s the truth.” Betty lifted her saddle onto a sawhorse to start cleaning it. “Think of those people who foster children or take in the elderly then steal from them or the government. The funds for medications alone are enough to motivate someone with no ethics.”
“They’ll cheat on food, too.” Tootie had read of such low behavior.
“Well, ‘Thou Shalt Not Steal’ is one of the Ten Commandments. We’ve been doing it for thousands of years.” Weevil took a toothbrush to the bit.