Pewter, on her haunches, fretted, then joined Mrs. Murphy, asking,"What? What's noticeable?"
"This grave-size slight depression."The tiger paced the long side, seven feet, of the depression.
"That's what the bear said."Pewter recalled the unintended visit.
"/half-believed her and half didn't." Tucker kept sniffing the earth."Bears can be such fibbers."
"/believed her. I didn't know how we could get Harry here, and then all that other stuff happened." Mrs. Murphy put her nose down, then asked Tucker,"Can you smell a body?"
"If it's above six feet, I can. Below I can't. So if there's a body in here, whoever buried it dug deep."
"We have to get Harry here."Mrs. Murphy started for home.
The animals trotted down the sloping pasture, crossed the rutted-dirt farm road, slipped under the old fencing, the locust posts holding firm.
Tucker started running. The cats followed her lead, over another pasture, then under more old fencing. They saw the Jones graveyard below to their right. Usually they'd linger there a moment, for it was so peaceful and often wild animals were there, as well, so they could chat. Not today.
Upon reaching Harry's Creek, Tucker Plunged in. She enjoyed a good swim. Mrs. Murphy followed, although she hated getting wet.
Pewter halted a moment, opened her mouth to complain, her deep pink tonguebright against her gray color. Her two friends reached the creek bank.
"Bother,"she mumbled to herself, jumping in, dog-paddling for all she was worth, her ears flat against her head held high.
Mrs. Murphy turned once on top of the creek bank. Satisfying herself that Pewter wouldn't drown, she kicked into high gear to catch up with Tucker, hustling toward home.
Corgis, fast, can turn on a dime, too. Mrs. Murphy flew alongside the determined canine.
A wet Pewter, sputtering with fury, lagged fifty yards behind. Beads of water sprayed off her fur, turning into tiny rainbows.
The two front-runners skidded into the barn not two minutes after crossing the creek a half mile away.
Harry had to be in the barn or house, because they didn't see or smell her outside.
Sure enough, Harry, on her hands and knees, was in the wash stall. The drain cover was removed, the trap sat on the floor, and she scrubbed down into the eight-inch-wide pipe with a long, thin stiff brush. The drain rarely clogged, because she repeated this procedure once a week, and because years ago when she rehabbed the barn she put in large pipes.
"Come with me!"Tucker barked.
Pewter brought up the rear.
"Pewter, you look like something the cat dragged in," Harry laughed.
"This isn't funny. Stop what you're doing and come with us."Pewter ignored Harry's jest.
"She's right, Mom. Just leave everything. You can put it back later."Mrs. Murphy leapt onto Harry's shoulders.
"Murphy." Harry felt creek droplets soak through her white T-shirt. Pawprints festooned the shoulders. "Oh, well." Harry reached back to pat her friend.
Mrs. Murphy licked her hand while Pewter continued to urge Harry to get up and go.
"Come on. Follow me,"Tucker pleaded.
Harry replaced the drain trap as Mrs. Murphy dug into the human's shoulders to hang on.
"Those claws hurt."
"You're lucky I don't really use them."
Pewter encouraged Tucker."Try the running-away-and-coming-back routine. She usually pays attention to that"
Tucker barked loudly, dashed down the center aisle, returned, barked more. She repeated this until Harry gently placed Mrs. Murphy on the floor.
"All right."
"Let's go!"As Tucker hustled out the opened doors, light streamed in.
Harry grew up on this farm. Animals surrounded her. Given the limitations of her species, she knew as best she could that all three were worked up and needed her attention. It wasn't until she was halfway to the creek that she realized this was going to be a hike. But her friends, insistent, prodded her on. When she hesitated at the creek swollen with spring rains, Tucker boldly nipped at her heels.
"Tucker, I get the picture. And don't you dare tear up my new work boots, you hear me?"
"Come on. Come on. It's not that bad. We'llshow you the best place,"the mighty dog cajoled.
Although the ford was the best place, thebanks were steep. Tucker, without glancing back, catapulted off the bank.
Harry watched Tucker's tail-less rump disappear under the water. When Mrs. Murphy followed suit, Harry ran back about twenty yards, picked up speed, and pushed off the bank. She made it to the other side, hearing a crescent of the bank's lip tumble into the water.
"I'm not going in here again!"Pewter wailed.
Neither Mrs. Murphy nor Tucker paid any mind to the gray cat.
Harry looked across the creek. "Pewts, go on back to the barn."
"Carry me!"Pewter wailed piteously.
"Dear God, give me patience," Harry muttered, then gauged the distance, walked back thirty yards this time, ran hard, and sailed over. She picked up Pewter, now purring, put her on her shoulders. "Hang on."
Crouching low on Harry's broad shoulders, claws sunk in, Pewter gushed, "/love you."
Taking into account her feline burden, Harry hit the turbocharger and made it, although her right foot just found purchase onthe bank. Part of the softened earth gave way and she lurched forward as Pewter leapt off. When she righted herself, she had to laugh, for the gray cat had the good manners to wait for her when she could have run ahead.
Mrs. Murphy and Tucker, frustrated, sat down until Harry and Pewter drew closer. Then they again took the lead.
Sweat rolled over Harry's forehead by the time she reached the peach orchard. The sun, high, drenched with golden light the tiny first nubs, the dark bark incised with thin horizontal lines raised at the edges.
The two cats and dog darted into the peach rows. Harry shrugged but dutifully followed.
Tucker stopped, as did Mrs. Murphy, nearly dry from running. Pewter was perfectly dry.
Harry blinked at the sight of the sticky strips. She examined one. She walked to the next one, peering intently.
Noticing the stealth-bomber bugs, different from the others, she almost got her nose stuck on the yellow strip.
"What in the hell is going on?" she exclaimed.
Tucker barked,"Come here."
Harry did. She beheld the earth and her heart dipped deeper than the sunken dirt.
26
Because of the peach rows, the sheriff did not bring in a backhoe. Two men rhythmically dug into the reasonably workable dirt. If it had rained within the last week the task would have been easier, but at least the earth wasn't hard.
Coop and Rick reached Harry within a half hour of her call. So did Fair. He canceled his last appointment—hoof X-rays for a purchase exam.
Mrs. Murphy, Pewter, and Tucker sat by Harry and Fair, although as the men dug deeper the pleasing aroma of decay enticed Tucker. The humans couldn't smell it until one man's spade hit a rib cage.
He stepped back, eyes watering.
Rick and Cooper moved to the grave's edge. The other digger stopped, too.
It was time to call in the forensics team. By early evening they knew they had Professor Forland.
Harry and Fair were aghast at the news but not entirely surprised once it was apparent the remains were human.
Coop had dropped by to tell them.
"Do you know how he was killed?" Harry asked.
"He had been shot, but that doesn't mean that's what killed him. The coroner will know soon enough." She then spoke to Fair. "You found Toby, and we found Professor Forland on your property."
"So I'm under suspicion?"
"You are." She adored Fair, but she was also a very good law-enforcement officer.
"Are you going to arrest him?" Harry's hands shook slightly.
"No. I'm just letting you know where things stand, and," she paused, "I'm sorry."