“Does Fair?” Susan asked.
“He forgets to breathe.”
They got sillier and sillier.
Finally able to control her giggling, Susan replied, “I don’t know about this boob stuff, but it never hurt us. Our parts are useful.”
“I will never, ever figure out why men lose their reason over cleavage, but I will figure out the murder. It might take me a long time, but I can’t walk away from it.”
“Girl, if you don’t walk away from it, you’ll wind up running away from it. Mark my words.”
Mrs. Murphy, Pewter, and Tucker sprawled under the shade of the walnut tree in the backyard of the old white clapboard farmhouse. The front entrance, simple and gracious, was rarely used. Just about everyone came to the back door, including the dogs of friends.
Asleep in the hayloft, Simon snored. Flatface, the great horned owl, also slept, in the cupola with vents. Matilda’s nest was in the hayloft, but she was anything but asleep. She was in the walnut tree and didn’t miss her loftmates for a minute.
Like all animals, she kept a hunting radius and defended it. Any other blacksnake found herself at the end of a hiss and big fangs. Matilda did allow a male to visit during mating season, but her interest in the opposite sex faded rapidly soon after. Some years she laid eggs, others she did not. As for most females of any species, motherhood could pluck one’s last nerve. Then again, you had to love those little things as they wriggled around.
Hanging from a branch in the walnut, Matilda focused intently on Pewter, who had been insulting her for years. All the large snake had to do was wait. Scaring the cat the other day made her very happy. Not that she’d bite Pewter. The fat gray cannonball deserved a big fright, not a fearsome bite.
Matilda’s glittering eyes missed nothing, and her sense of smell was far better than humans could imagine. As for flicking her forked tongue, she gathered information that way, but, again, humans didn’t get that, nor did Pewter, who complained that Matilda lacked respect because she’d stick out her tongue. Matilda could gauge temperature and the oncoming weather, and her taste buds worked just fine, too.
She arced up halfway as Harry, who’d been on her eighty-horsepower John Deere, walked back to the barn. The attractive human wasn’t happy. Matilda observed it in her demeanor, but she could smell the frustration, too. Humans stank. Their unmistakable scent could be mollified by cleanliness and even perfume, which Matilda didn’t like much. But when a human was angry, frightened, or getting peevish, they stank. The funny thing was, they couldn’t smell it.
Matilda watched as Harry, hands in pockets, stomped into the barn. The human had come home from her checkup in such a good mood. Obviously, it had evaporated. Then the snake, muscles so powerful, formed a big “U,” wrapped her upper body around the branch, dropped her tail, and climbed up on the branch. She now lay flat out, quite an impressive sight.
Pewter, dead to the world, heard nothing. Tucker also was out cold. They’d chased birds, butterflies, and even a big groundhog, until they’d worn themselves out. Mrs. Murphy, who’d been prowling the barn, was less tired and awoke when she heard her human’s footsteps. She roused herself, stretched, trotted to the barn, and ducked into the tack room as she heard Harry on the phone.
“Yeah, I know.” Harry sat down in the director’s chair. “Just sprayed oil all over the place. It’s hydraulic fluid.” A long pause followed. “Yes, you did tell me the whole gearbox and hoses needed a complete overhaul. You also told me it would cost ten thousand dollars.” Another long pause followed. “Let me talk to my husband. I’ll get back to you by tomorrow.”
“Mom, don’t fret. Take a deep breath.” The tiger cat rubbed against Harry’s leg; the hay dust covering the thin old denim now dotted the cat’s coat, as well.
Harry reached down to rub Mrs. Murphy’s head. “I knew this would happen sooner or later, but I thought I could get the first cutting done. The hay is perfect, just perfect. Dammit. Dammit to hell.” She dialed Fair’s cell number. “Honey.”
“Hey, beautiful. What’s wrong?” He recognized the distress in his wife’s voice. “I thought this was a great day.”
“Well, it was. But the gearbox is shot in the John Deere. The dealer told me it would take ten thousand dollars to replace it, plus I have to replace all the hoses. Dammit, Fair. They did say, however, they could pick up the tractor Friday, May twenty-fifth. That’s a miracle.”
“Yeah.”
Friday was day after tomorrow.
“We can’t afford ten thousand dollars.”
A deep sigh, then Fair said, “Let me go to the bank.”
“Honey, they aren’t making loans. If they do, it’s big ones. It’s just as much work to make a small one as a big one. We’re screwed.”
“Who told you about the loans?”
“Big Mim, at Little Mim’s baby shower last night. We had a little bit of time together.”
“If anyone would know, she would. God knows, the woman owns enough bank stock. Look, don’t get het up.” He used the old Virginia term for “hot.” “Give me a little time to think.”
She calmed down. “I don’t know why I let stuff like this get to me. This really has been a day of good news.”
“Oh, babydoll, some days are just like that: a roller coaster.”
She smiled. “You’re right. Okay, honey, I’ll wait until you get home.” She hung up the phone, looked down at her friend. “I don’t know why he puts up with me.”
“Because you put up with him.” The cat laughed. “And he loves you. We all love you.”
With that, the cat leapt onto Harry’s lap.
Harry picked up the phone, dialing Franny Howard. “Hey, I know you’re at work. I won’t keep you.”
“Business is good right now. I’m happy, except for the theft, of course. Victor Gatzembizi came by to tell me he’d be on the lookout if any expensive tires showed up in his shops. Given what he’s going through, that was nice.”
“Any leads?”
“No, but Coop said it would take a while. She had to check on other thefts to see what merchandise was taken and if the M.O. was similar. She said there’s just a huge black market.”
“Who would have thought about a black market for expensive tires?” Harry changed the subject. “Well, I called to tell you I sailed through my checkup. Thank you for keeping after me about my mammograms at our support group. I really am grateful.”
“Oh, Harry, we girls have to stick together on this one. I’ve passed my five-year mark, but I take nothing for granted. You look wonderful.”
“Thanks. Need anything? My asparagus is up. Lettuce, too. All the early plantings.”
“I’ll take whatever you’ve got.” Franny’s voice was warm. “You know I have totally, totally changed my eating habits, and I think that’s one of the reasons I’m alive. I am convinced, absolutely convinced, that sugar feeds cancer cells.”
“You may be right. I’ve cut way back on the sugar. Missed it for the first month and now I don’t. I mean, I’ll still drink a cold Co-Cola, but no cookies, sweets, all that stuff.”
“You stick to it, girl.”
“Franny, I’ll drop off the greens tomorrow.”
Just as Harry hung up the phone, Tucker barked a warning. She hurried out of the tack room, Mrs. Murphy following her.
Tucker stopped, because the intruder was Cooper in the squad car. Tucker adored Coop.
“Hey.” Harry walked out, determined not to bitch and moan about the John Deere. It was more than thirty years old, so how much could she complain?
“I want to show you something.” Cooper pulled out her laptop and headed toward the screened-in porch.