Alfred DuCharme, shotgun pointing at Shaker, cussed a blue streak.
Tedi uncharacteristically blurted out, “Guess Alfred’s not such a lazy sod.”
“Get the hell out of here!” Alfred bellowed.
The hounds—unhurt, thank God—bundled around Gunpowder and Shaker.
Ben Sidell calmly rode forward. “Alfred, put that shotgun down.”
“Goddammit!” Alfred recognized the young sheriff. “Goddammit to hell!” He lowered the shotgun.
“Break it open, Alfred.”
Alfred did break open his shotgun.
The smell of fermenting corn nearly knocked Tootie off her saddle.
“Anyone have cut pads?” Sister rode up to Shaker as Betty and Sybil rode in, quite shocked at the scene.
“No.” His face was pale.
“Alfred, you’re operating an illegal still, and you’re trespassing on…” Ben turned to Sister.
“Franklin Foster.”
“…Foster’s land.”
Dejection overcame Alfred. “Will this be in the papers?”
Canny, Ben dismounted. Tootie rode up to take Nonni’s reins. Ben removed the shotgun from Alfred. “Now, Alfred, things don’t look good for you. If you help me, I’ll help you.”
A fleeting look of hope crossed Alfred’s craggy features. “What can I do?”
“The first thing you can do is destroy this still. Remove all traces of it. You wouldn’t want Mr. Foster to find out and nail you to the cross, now would you?”
“No.”
“The second thing you can do is promise me you will not do this again.”
“I do.” Alfred almost sounded believable.
“There’s more. Are you listening?” Ben kept his voice low.
“I am.”
“Did you sell to Iphigenia Demetrios?”
He cleared his throat. “I did.”
“Did she come out here to you two Saturdays ago, January 7?”
“Yes.”
“Was she a regular customer?”
“Yes. She’d pour my stuff in other bottles. She drank bourbon, too, mind you, but when she needed a real pick-me-up, she came to me.”
“I see. Did you kill her?”
“No!” He stepped back, frightened.
“It’s not so far-fetched, Alfred. She could have threatened to expose you, and from the looks of this, you’ve profited greatly from illegal liquor.”
“I would never kill anyone. Even for that. Because I break one law doesn’t mean I’d break all laws.” Alfred’s wits were returning.
“I believe you. Thousands wouldn’t,” Ben joked. “Any idea why she was so upset that Saturday?”
“Work. Said work wasn’t going right. Said she had no love life. Said she felt betrayed.”
“By whom?”
“She didn’t say.”
“Does a cell phone work down here in this hollow?”
Alfred nodded. “If you climb up there on that rock ledge, it does.”
“All right, here is what we are going to do. I’m going to call the fire department. Tattenhall Station is the closest volunteer station. I’m going to tell them that I’m performing a controlled burn here. I won’t give the circumstances. But this way, if they get calls from anyone, they won’t respond. I won’t arrest you, and I will swear these people to secrecy.” Ben nodded toward the field. “Are you with me?”
“Yes.” Alfred sighed deeply.
Not only was Ben saving his face, he was saving him lawyer’s fees, possible jail time, and significant damages to the state.
Ben walked over to Sister. “Sister, you are to never speak of this. Shaker, Betty, Sybil.”
They agreed.
He walked over to Tootie, Tedi, and Edward.
“Edward, do you have room on your trailer to take Nonni back with you? I don’t know how long it will be before I can pick her up.”
“Be glad to do it,” Edward replied.
“Tedi, Edward, Tootie, you must promise not to reveal what has happened here.” He stopped a moment and hoped Tootie, despite her youth, could resist telling the story. “This may have a bearing on Iffy’s murder. I need full cooperation.”
Each pledged not to tell.
He spoke louder. “Alfred, when next you see any of these people, do you swear not to speak of this or treat them rudely?”
“Of course.” Alfred might hate Binky, but he treated other people with respect.
“You’re going to drive me to After All once we finish business here,” said Ben to Alfred.
As the little group left, the fox, den up on the ledge within hearing distance of the clear creek below, thought this day memorable.
The hounds passed right under his nose.
“He’s up there,” Asa said.
“We must go in,” said Delia, now up front, as they were walking.
“How’d you know?” Dasher asked Delia, his mother.
“Long before you were born there was a still hidden in a stone springhouse not far from Tattenhall Station. Fox ran into it and so did we. Once you get a whiff, you don’t forget. The humans use different grains, so it can smell different, but it’s always sweet and thick.”
Trident, finding the smell gross, asked, “How can they drink that stuff?”
“If they eat spinach, I reckon they can eat or drink just about anything,” Asa laughed.
As the happy group of hounds walked up and out of the ravine, Matador asked Keepsake, “Is it always like this?”
The gelding replied, “No, you just had a special initiation.”
“Whew.” The gorgeous flea-bitten gray exhaled, which made Sister laugh.
Ben and Alfred smashed up what was left of the equipment with axes. Once Ben felt the horses were far enough away not to become frightened by the smell, he lit a match, and the place blew up like a tinderbox.
Alfred sighed deeply. “Best damn country waters in the state of Virginia, if I do say so myself.”
“Do it legally, then, Alfred.”
“Ah shit, Sheriff, I’d choke in laws like kudzu.”
Ben didn’t reply, but he sure did think life had become overregulated. He couldn’t enforce much of the law; he’d need an officer for every five people.
Enlisting Alfred in his search for the killer was one reason why Ben had let him off the hook. The other reason was that he wanted Alfred’s tacit blessing as he courted the old man’s niece.
Margaret didn’t know it yet, but Ben meant to win her. For him it had been love at first sight.
Once back at Roughneck Farm, Tootie took Sister’s Matador. As she and Gray cleaned the horses, Sister and Shaker checked each hound.
“Let’s give them a treat,” Sister said as she walked into the feed room to put down the troughs. She noticed Iffy’s ashes all over the feed room, the box chewed to bits. “Great day, Shaker.” She used the old Southern exclamation.
He walked in, the hounds were in the draw pen. “Jesus.”
“I expect she’s with him now if forgiveness comes as advertised.” Sister burst out laughing. “What a sight. Iffy all over the kennel floor. Who did this?”
“Oh, that’s not hard to figure.” Shaker walked through the swinging doors to the special medical runs, as they called the sequestered housing and runs for an injured hound.
Dragon, bored, had lifted the latch on his gate with his nose. He knew well enough where the feed room was, so he pushed through the doors. Couldn’t find any extra feed, since it was all in tightly closed zinc-lined bins. But the toasted bones were a treat. He’s chewed up the box, chewed up some of Iffy, and then sauntered back to his special quarters.
Shaker, in a fog this morning, had forgotten to put the pin through the latch that prevented it from being lifted up.
He apologized to Sister as she swept up what was left of Iffy.
“Look at it this way,” Sister said. “It may be one of the few times Iffy provided genuine pleasure.”
Dragon, hearing this on the other side of the swinging doors, said, “Bones were a little too dry.”