“No. Looks like a dog or a very big cat.” He looked in Pewter’s direction and she pointedly turned away.
“Fair, I’ll be right over.”
“Coop, I don’t want to trouble you.”
“Too late.”
Within seven minutes she rolled down the driveway. Snow was falling steadily now.
“Jesus, you burned the wind getting here.” Fair laughed, trying to make light of his fear.
“Show me the money.” She smiled, but she was as worried as he was.
He pointed to the kitchen table, Pewter now sitting on one chair.
“They’re up at the walnut stand, and I bet you can’t see the hand in front of your face up there,” Pewter told them, even though she knew it was hopeless.
Cooper sat down. She didn’t touch the money, just stared at the sleeve. “Teeth marks, all right.” She looked up at the tall vet. “Maybe she dropped the money and Tucker picked it up.”
“That’s as good an explanation as any, but we both know Harry wouldn’t just put money like this on the table, and if she took it out of her bank account, she’d tell me.”
“Not if it’s your Christmas present.”
“Cash?” He was surprised.
“Maybe she’s buying something big.”
“With cash?” He inhaled sharply. “Do you know something I don’t?”
“Yeah, about a lot of things, but not about your Christmas present.”
He appreciated her humor, which took off the edge. “Right.”
“I take it you keep separate bank accounts?”
“We do, but we have a joint account to cover the farm costs.” He sat down opposite Cooper, who now turned the money over in her hands. “Something’s wrong.”
“Maybe.” She thought so, too.
“Should we call Rick?”
“Not without a body.” The minute the words fell out of her mouth, Cooper repented. “I don’t mean that.”
“I know. Unfortunately, there have been bodies.”
“Harry’s not a monk. If she is, it’s news to me.”
“Given that we found Christopher, she can’t help but stick her nose in it; that’s her nature. Much as I love her, I could smack her upside the head right now. What if she’s run up on the killer?”
Cooper studied the money for too long, then her eyes met Fair’s. “I know. I guess I haven’t done the job of a friend, which is to calm and console you.”
He smiled wanly. “I don’t want consolation. I want my wife.”
Barking made them both sit up. Pewter ran to the dog door just as Tucker burst through it.
“Hurry! Hurry!” The corgi turned in tight circles, pushed though the door, then leapt back in again, only to repeat the process.
Fair threw his coat on, with Cooper right behind him. Pewter brought up the rear.
“What’s wrong?” the gray cat asked the dog, who was tired but ready to go all the way back up again.
“Brother George hit her over the head and took the money. She didn’t see him, and we didn’t, either, until the last minute. High winds, could hardly hear. Blew scent away, and sometimes you couldn’t see.” The dog caught her breath. “Heard the motor cut off way up on the fire road. That was it.”
“Is Harry all right?”
“I don’t know. She was unconscious when I left, and Murphy is with her.”
Pewter, now running with the corgi, said nothing. Insouciant as she might appear, at bottom she loved her little family, and if that meant going out in what was becoming a whopper of a storm, then she was going.
Tucker, realizing the humans couldn’t keep up, slowed. She’d forgotten for a moment about the fact that they followed on two feet, encumbered by winter wear.
She barked loudly.
Fair responded, “Hold hard, Tucker.”
Pewter, waited, closed her eyes. The snow, coming hard in swirling winds, stung her eyes.
“I’m glad you’re with me,” Tucker panted.
“It’s my new exercise program.” Pewter saw Fair’s huge frame loom in the snow, Cooper’s smaller one beside him.
Tucker knew how worried Pewter was. For one thing, she would never admit she was fat—and she just did. The dog turned to face the onslaught, Pewter shoulder to shoulder with her.
The humans kept up, since Tucker trotted now. Fortunately, the snow wasn’t deep yet. Footing could be dicey in those places where the old snow had hardened like vanilla icing, and in some spots, there was nothing but ice.
They pressed on, balloons of steam coming from four mouths, four heads down against the wind, which sounded like a Mercedes at full throttle.
As they began to climb, conditions worsened, but the exhausted dog never faltered, nor did the gray cat. Behind them, the humans—who were wiping the snow from eyes and eyelashes, breath coming sharper now—knew they had to keep going and stay together.
Slowed by conditions, they reached the walnut stand in forty minutes instead of thirty.
Tucker called, “Murphy!”
“Here!”
Even with the wind, the two humans heard the piercing meow.
Pewter raced to her friend, Tucker alongside, with Fair and Cooper almost at their heels, rejuvenated by Mrs. Murphy’s voice.
They found the cat draped over Harry’s head, her tail swishing to keep the snow from pasting Harry’s eyes and filling up her nostrils.
Fair and Cooper knelt down, and Cooper gently lifted the cap.
“God damn, that’s nasty,” she cursed.
Fair took Harry’s pulse, fingers cold since he’d pulled off his glove. “Strong.”
The snow had already covered the blood as well as Brother George’s tracks.
“Maybe we can rig up a sled like the Indians used: two poles crossed. I’ll put my coat on them to hold her,” Cooper offered.
“No tools. I can carry her down, but it will take a while.”
“I can do the fireman’s carry. Spell you.”
“You’re a good woman, Coop. Remind me to tell you that more often.”
Tucker and Pewter huddled around Mrs. Murphy, who was half frozen herself.
“Can you make it?” Tucker asked.
“Yeah.” Mrs. Murphy stretched, then shivered.
Fair touched the cat’s snow- covered head. “God bless you, Mrs. Murphy.” He looked over to Cooper. “You could carry her for a bit.”
“Will do.”
Fair stood back up, shook his legs, then knelt down and lifted Harry. Since he was accustomed to patients that weighed 1,200 pounds, Fair’s five- foot- seven- inch, one-hundred- forty-two pound wife felt light enough. He knew as time wore on she’d feel heavier and heavier, though.
He used the fireman’s carry and they began the trek down, at times hardly able to see. The ruts in the old wagon trail began to fill up, pure white with no rocks protruding. A few saplings here and there helped keep their bearings. Tucker and Pewter, better able to keep on track, also helped. Tucker barked if anything needed to be sidestepped or if the humans began to lose their way.
After twenty minutes, slipping and sliding now, Fair gently laid down Harry. He bent over, hands on knees, and gulped in air.
“I’ll take a turn.” Cooper was taller than Harry and accustomed to lifting human burdens on occasion—since a cop’s duties require many strange moments with truly strange people. The deputy grunted, but she hoisted Harry on her shoulders and stood up. “I won’t last as long as you did.”
“A breather helps.” He scooped up Mrs. Murphy, opening his coat and putting her inside, then zipping it back up, with her head outside for air.
To her surprise, Cooper lasted fifteen minutes, almost the rest of the way down the mountain.
She and Fair exchanged burdens. Mrs. Murphy noted that Pewter, quick to want to be carried, made not one peep.
Tucker and Pewter, wind to their tails now, pushed ahead. Occasionally the wind would swirl, a white devil blowing snow into their eyes and mouths again, but they turned their heads sideways, keeping on, always keeping on.