Harry sympathized and when he asked her about her life she told him that she had studied art history at Smith, never quite found her career direction, and fell into the job at the post office which, truthfully, she enjoyed. Her marriage had been like a second job and when it ended she was amazed at the free time she had. She was casting about for something to do in addition to the post office. She was thinking of being an agent for equine art but she didn’t know enough about the market. And she was in no hurry. She, too, was beginning to feel as if she was waking up.
She wondered whether to ask him to stay. His house was so barren, but it didn’t seem right to ask him just yet. Harry was never one to rush things.
When he got up to go home, she hugged him good-bye, thanked him for the groceries, and said she’d see him in the morning.
She watched his lights as he drove down the curving driveway. Then she put on her jacket and took out scraps for the possum.
45
Tucked into bed with the latest Susan Isaacs novel, Harry was surprised when the phone rang.
Fair’s voice crackled over the line. “Can you hear me?”
“Yes, kind of.”
“The lines are icing up. You might lose your power and your phone. Are you alone?”
“What kind of question is that? Are you?”
“Yes. I’m worried about you, Harry. Who knows what will happen if you’re cut off from the world?”
“I’m in no danger.”
“You don’t know that. Just because nothing has happened recently doesn’t mean that you might not be in danger.”
“Maybe you’re in danger.” Harry sighed. “Fair, is this your way of apologizing?”
“Uh . . . well, yes.”
“Is the bloom off the rose with BoomBoom?”
A long silence filled with static was finally broken. “I don’t know.”
“Fair, I was your wife and before that I was one of your best friends. Maybe we’ll get back to being best friends over time. So take that into consideration when I ask this next question. Have you spent a lot of money on her?”
This time the silence was agonizing. “I suppose I have, by my standards. Harry, it’s never enough. I buy her something beautiful—you know, an English bridle, and those things aren’t cheap. But anyway, for example, an English bridle, and she’s all over me, she’s so happy. Two hours later she’s in a funk and I’m not sensitive to her needs. Does she ever run out of needs? Is she this way with women or is this something reserved for men?”
“She’s that way with women. Remember her sob story to Mrs. MacGregor and how Mrs. MacGregor helped her out and lent her horses—this was way back before she married Kelly. Mrs. MacGregor wearied of it before long. She’d have to clean the tack and the horse for BoomBoom, who showed up late for their rides. She’s just, oh, I don’t know. She’s just not reliable. The best thing that ever happened to her was marrying Kelly Craycroft. He could afford her.”
“Well, that’s just it, Harry. We know Kelly left a respectable estate and she’s crying poor.”
“Pity gets more money out of people than other emotions, I guess. Are you strapped? Did you spend . . . a lot?”
“Well . . . more than I could afford.”
“Can you pay your rent on the house and the office?”
“That’s about all I can pay for.”
Harry thought awhile. “You know, if you owe on equipment you can ask for smaller payments until you’re back on your feet. And if your hunt club dues are a problem, Jock couldn’t be more understanding. He’ll work with you.”
“Harry”—Fair’s words nearly choked him—“I was a fool. I wish I’d given the money to you.”
Tears rolled down Harry’s cheeks. “Honey, it’s water over the dam. Just get back on your feet and take a break from women, a sabbatical.”
“Do you hate me?”
“I did. I’m over that, I hope. I wish things had turned out differently. My ego took a sound beating, which I didn’t appreciate, but who would? It’s amazing how the most reasonable people become unreasonable and, well, not very bright, when love or sex appears. Does it even appear? I don’t know what it is anymore.”
“Me, neither.” He swallowed. “But I know you loved me. You never lied to me. You worked alongside me and you didn’t ask for things. How we lost the fire, I don’t know. One day it was gone.”
Now it was Harry’s turn to be quiet. “Who knows, Fair, who knows? Can people get that feeling back? Maybe some can but I don’t think we could have. It doesn’t mean we’re bad people. It slipped away somehow. Over time we’ll come back to that place where we can appreciate—I guess that’s the word—the good things about each other and the years we had. Most of Crozet doesn’t believe that’s possible between a man and a woman but I hope we prove them wrong.”
“Me too.”
After he hung up Harry dialed Susan and told all. By now she was working on a good cry. Susan consoled her and felt happy that perhaps she and Fair could be friends. Once Harry purged herself she returned to her primary focus these days, a focus she shared only with Susan: the murders.
“No leads on that money in Ben’s portfolio?”
“Not that I know of, and I pumped Cynthia Cooper at the supermarket too,” Susan replied. “And Ned has worked with Cabell, who’s taking this hard.”
“And nothing is missing from the bank?”
“No. And they’ve checked and double-checked. Everyone asks that same question. It’s driving Cabell crazy.”
“Did you get into any more jewel boxes?”
“Very funny. My idea wasn’t so good after all.”
“I felt positively guilty asking Miranda to go through her stuff. She’s in her Christmas mood. Even the mail doesn’t stop her. Did you see her tree? I think it’s bigger than the one at the White House.”
“It’s the Christmas-tree pin that kills me, all those little twinkling lights on her bosom. She must have a mile of wire under her blouse and skirt,” Susan laughed.
“You going to Mim’s party?”
“I didn’t know we were allowed to miss it.”
“I’m going to wear the earring. It’s our only chance.”
“Harry, don’t do that.”
“I’m doing it.”
“Then I’m telling Rick Shaw.”
“Tell him afterwards. Otherwise he’ll come and take the earring. Which reminds me, do you have an earring without a mate . . . ?”
“Thanks a lot, pal!”
“No, no, I don’t mean that. I have so few earrings I was hoping you’d have one I could have, preferably a big one.”
“Why?”
“So I can trade with the possum.”
“Harry, for heaven’t sake, it’s an animal. Take it some food.”
“I do that. This little guy likes shiny things. I have to trade.”
Susan sighed dramatically. “I’ll find something. You’re looney-tunes.”
“What’s that say about you? You’re my best friend.”
On this note they hung up.
Mrs. Murphy asked Tucker, “Did you know that cats wore golden earrings in ancient Egypt?”
“I don’t care. Go to sleep.” Tucker rolled over.
“What a crab,” the cat thought to herself before she crawled under the covers. She liked to sleep with her head on the pillow next to Harry’s.
46
All through the night heavy snow fell over Central Virginia. A slight rise in the temperature at dawn changed the snow to freezing rain, and soon the beautiful white blanket was encased in thick ice. By seven the temperature plunged again, creating more snow. Driving was treacherous because the ice was hidden. State police blared warnings over the TV and radio for people to stay home.