“Sounds like a winner to me.” Harry smiled as she led Cooper into the cozy room, redolent of sweet feed and leather with a hint of Absorbine, used to soothe aching muscles. “Harry.” Cooper sank into one of the director’s chairs.
“Brother Speed was found dead this morning. Same M.O. as Christopher.”
“Oh, no.” Harry put the cocoa tin down lest she drop it. Both cats opened their eyes wide now, and Tucker sat beside Cooper.
“Tony Gammell found him on the tennis courts at the Keswick Club.”
“Good Lord. I hope Nancy wasn’t at work.”
“Luckily, Nancy Holt didn’t have any tennis lessons because of the high winds and snow.”
“Well, she’s tough enough to go out in anything. I bet this upset Tony, too.”
“Did.” Harry sat down, waiting for the water to boil. “I don’t get it.”
“I don’t, either. You knew Brother Speed.”
“Sure. He was a good horseman as well as rider.”
“What do you mean?”
“Oh, there are plenty of people who can ride a horse, but a horseman is someone who truly knows how to care for horses as well as how to train them. Not a whole lot of those, and Speed was good. Very sensitive.” Harry appreciated that quality.
“Ever see him gamble?”
“No.”
“What about Christopher?”
“He ran football pools—pretty primitive, but it was high school.”
“Ever see or hear about either one getting in trouble with women, especially married women?”
“Christopher left Crozet to go to college, so I didn’t hear anything. Who knows? As for Brother Speed, well, a racing life is full of temptation.”
“Both gambling and sex can run away with people, like drugs and alcohol. I’m looking for any kind of motivation for murder. Welched debts or angry spouses could qualify. Some times old habits reappear.”
Harry thought about that. “I suppose it is hard to break an addiction, whatever it may be. But don’t you think the other brothers would know or at least suspect that Speed and Christopher were struggling?”
“Time for another visit to the monastery.” Cooper rubbed her eyes. “I’m tired.”
“Low- pressure system. Running into walls will poop you out, too.”
“I’ve been doing enough of that,” Cooper ruefully said.
“Maybe the murderer was abused by a priest or a monk. Given the breadth of the abuse in America, it’s not a long jump to assume that there are some people in Albemarle County who were molested. Maybe not by local priests but elsewhere.” She added, “There are so many new people to the area, and we don’t know their histories. The old families you know for generations. I mean, look at the Urquharts.” She mentioned Big Mim’s maiden name. “Someone could have just lost it. Maybe the abuse started one Christmas. Who knows?”
“Once the trigger of an old, buried emotion is pulled, you can’t unpull it.” Cooper considered Harry’s idea.
“The thing about the Brothers of Love is they’d be easy to get to. They’re out with the public, at the hospice, at the tree farm. If only we could figure out the reason . . . at least it would lead to potential culprits.”
Cooper rose and walked to the hot plate. “Water’s boiling.”
“I’m not being a good hostess.”
“Hey, I’m your neighbor. You don’t have to dance attendance on me.”
Harry smiled. “Haven’t heard that phrase since my grandmother.”
“That’s what mine said. I think that generation used language better than we do. Their speech was so colorful. Now people imitate whatever they hear on TV or pick up off the Internet. Pretty boring.” Cooper poured water into her hot-chocolate powder, then poured water over Harry’s cocoa.
She returned to the director’s chair, which faced an old tack trunk serving as a coffee table.
“How nice to be waited on in my own tack room. Every time I go to Big Mim’s barn or Alicia’s, I suffer a fit of envy. My God, those tack rooms could be in Architectural Digest.” She looked around. “But this is tidy and it’s mine.”
“That’s what counts.” Cooper settled in, grateful for the hot chocolate. “Let’s go over what we do know.”
“Sure.”
“Not much,” Pewter sassed.
“Two men, late thirties, early forties. In fact, Brother Speed turned forty on December eleventh. Both of them belonged to the same order. Both raised Catholics. Both nice-looking men. Christopher was divorced. Speed never married.”
Harry jumped in. “Both ruined by money troubles.”
“Yep.” Coop’s notebook was filled with notes from questioning people. “Women just loved Speed. Probably because they could pick him up and throw him around.”
“Ha.” Harry appreciated that. “Wouldn’t that be fun? I can barely get Fair’s feet off the ground, and he even helps by standing on his tiptoes. He can bench- press me with one hand.”
“He is one big, strong man. Good thing, too. His patients outweigh him by about a thousand pounds.” Cooper returned to the murders. “Both men had good personalities. People liked them. The calls I made to Phoenix—despite what Christopher did, people mentioned over and over again how likable he was. Can you think of anything I missed?”
“Both were estranged from their families.”
“Right. Forgot that. They were likable but not to their folks.”
“I expect they were still likable to them, but when you go through alcoholism and drug abuse with someone, I think a lot of times the family gets burned out. Plus, they don’t believe anything the addict tells them. Too many lies. Christopher’s family couldn’t handle the scandal,” Harry added.
“Anything else?”
“Their manner of death appears to be the same. Killed from behind. I take it there was no sign of struggle with Speed?”
“We’ll know more after the autopsy, but no apparent sign of struggle.”
“And I assume Brother Speed was killed quickly, too. You’d think someone would have missed him up at the monastery.”
“Rick called. Brother George said they figured he’d stayed overnight in town, given the roads and the fact that the party rolled on. George was scared.” She paused. “You know, when we catch the killer, I wouldn’t be surprised if he gets off somehow.”
Harry nodded. “Everything’s backward. We punish the victim. We give money to people who won’t work. Old men sit in the legislature and send young men and women to their deaths. It’s all backward.”
“You and I aren’t going to fix it.”
“I think we can, but it’s going to take more than just us. Like these murders. We can’t bring back the dead, but if we use our wits and have a bit of luck, we’ll get him.”
“Think it’s only one person?”
“I don’t know. You’d know better than I do.”
“I’m not sure. If only I could figure out the Brothers of Love connection.”
“Doesn’t seem to be coincidence.” She frowned. “We don’t know what we don’t know.”
“Yep.” Cooper drained her hot chocolate. “Mind if I make another?”
“Course not.”
“Need more?”
“I’m good.”
Cooper filled the teakettle. Harry always kept a couple of bottles of distilled water in the tack room for that purpose. “I’ve even tried to make odd connections. For instance: facial hair.”
“No connection. Speed was clean shaven and Christopher had that flaming beard.”
“I know.” A note of irritation crept into Coop’s voice. “I’m saying that I’m looking at everything. The things that are important to a killer are not immediately obvious.”
“I understand that. Kind of like the serial killer who kills women who resemble his high school crush who rejected him.”
“Exactly.” Cooper stood over the teakettle.
“A watched pot never boils,” Harry intoned the old saying.
“Right.”
Cooper flopped down in the director’s chair.