Meanwhile the citizens of Albemarle County would be told to accept the rape of their land for the good of the counties south of them, counties that had contributed heavily to certain politicians’ war chests. No one even considered the idea of letting people raise money themselves for improving the central corridor. Whatever the extra cost would be, compared to a bypass, Albemarle would pay for it. Self-government—why, the very thought was too revolutionary.
Harry, raised to believe the government was her friend, had learned by experience to believe it was her enemy. She softened her stance only with local officials whom she knew and to whom she could talk face-to-face.
One good thing about newcomers was, they were politically active. Good, Harry thought. They’re going to need it.
She and Susan batted these ideas around at the Blue Ridge Brewery. Ice-cold beer on a sticky night tasted delicious.
“So?”
“So what, Susan?”
“You’ve been sitting here for ten minutes and you haven’t said a thing.”
“Oh. I’m sorry. Lost track of time, I guess.”
“Apparently.” Susan smiled. “Come on, what gives? Another bout with Fair?”
“You know, I can’t decide who’s the bigger asshole, him or me. What I do know is, we can’t be in the same room together without an argument. Even if we start out on friendly terms . . . we end up accusing each other of . . .”
Susan waited. No completion of Harry’s sentence was forthcoming. “Accusing each other of what?”
“I asked him if he’d slept with BoomBoom.”
“What?” Susan’s lower lip dropped.
“You heard me.”
“And?”
“He said no. Oh, it went on from there. Every mistake I’d made since we dated got thrown in my face. God, I am so bored with him, with the situation”—she paused—“with myself. There’s a whole world out there and right now all I can think of is this stupid divorce.” Another pause. “And Kelly’s murder.”
“Fortunately the two are not connected.” Susan took a long draft.
“I hope not.”
“They aren’t.” Susan dismissed the thought. “You don’t think they are either. He may not have been the husband you needed, but he’s not a murderer.”
“I know.” Harry pushed the glass away. “But I don’t know him anymore—and I don’t trust him.”
“Ever notice how friends love you for what you are? Lovers try to change you into what they want you to be.” Susan drank the rest of Harry’s beer.
Harry laughed. “Mom used to say, ‘A woman marries a man hoping to change him and a man marries a woman hoping she’ll never change.’ ”
“Your mother was a pistol.” Susan remembered Grace’s sharp wit. “But I think men try to change their partners, too, although in a different way. It’s so confusing. I know less about human relationships the older I get. I thought it was supposed to be the other way around. I thought I was supposed to be getting wiser.”
“Yeah. Now I’m full of distrust.”
“Oh, Harry, men aren’t so bad.”
“No, no—I distrust myself. What was I doing married to Pharamond Haristeen? Am I that far away from myself?”
Back home, Mrs. Murphy prowled.
Tucker, in her wicker basket, lifted her head. “Sit down.”
“Am I keeping you awake?”
“No,” the dog grumbled. “I can’t sleep when Mommy’s away. I’ve seen other people take their dogs to the movies. Muffin Barnes sticks her dog in her purse.” Muffin was a friend of Harry’s.
“Muffin Barnes’s dog is a chihuahua.”
“Zat what he is?” Tucker, stiff-legged, got out of the basket. “Wanna play?”
“Ball?”
“No. How about tag? We can rip and tear while she isn’t here. Actually, we should rip and tear. How dare she go away and leave us here. Let’s make her pay.”
“Yeah!” Mrs. Murphy’s eyes lit up.
An hour later, when Harry flipped the lights on in the living room, she exclaimed, “Oh, my God!”
The ficus tree was tipped over, soil was thrown over the floor, and soiled kittyprints dotted the walls. Mrs. Murphy had danced in the moist dirt before hitting the walls with all four feet.
Harry, furious, searched for her darlings. Tucker hid under the bed in the back corner against the wall, and Mrs. Murphy lay flat on the top shelf of the pantry.
By the time Harry cleaned up the mess she was too tired to discipline them. To her credit, she understood that this was punishment for her leaving. She understood, but was loath to admit that the animals trained her far better than she trained them.
11
The prospect of the weekend lightened Harry’s step as she walked along Railroad Avenue, shiny from last night’s late thunderstorm, which had done nothing to lower the exalted temperature. Mrs. Murphy and Tucker, forgiven, scampered ahead.
The moment she caught sight of them, Pewter tore down the avenue to greet them.
“I didn’t know she could move that fast.” Harry whistled out loud.
When Pewter ran, the flab under her belly swayed from side to side. She started yelling half a block away from her friends. “I’ve been waiting outside the store for you!”
Panting, Pewter slid to a stop at Tucker’s feet.
Harry, thinking that the animal had exhausted herself, stooped to pick her up. “Poor Fatty.”
“Lemme go.” Pewter wiggled free.
“What is it?” Mrs. Murphy rubbed against Harry’s legs to make her feel better.
“Maude Bly Modena.” The chartreuse eyes glittered. “Dead!”
“How?” Mrs. Murphy wanted details.
“Train ran over her.”
“In her car, you mean?” Tucker was impatient waiting for Pewter to catch her breath as they continued walking toward the post office.
“No!” Pewter picked up the pace. “Worse than that.”
“Pewter, I’ve never heard you so chatty.” Harry beamed.
Pewter replied. “If you’d pay attention you might learn something.” She turned to Mrs. Murphy. “They think they’re so smart but they only pay attention to themselves. Humans only listen to humans and half the time they don’t do that.”
“Yes.” Mrs. Murphy wanted to say “Get on with it,” but she prudently bit her lip.
“As I was saying, it was worse than that. She was tied to the track, I don’t know where exactly, but when the six o’clock came through this morning, the engineer couldn’t stop in time. Cut her into three pieces.”
“How’d you find out?” Tucker blinked at the thought of the grisly sight.
“Unfortunately, Courtney heard about it first. Market let her come in and open up for the farm trade, the five A.M., crew. The Rescue Squad roared by—Rick Shaw too. Officer Cooper, in the second squad car, ran in for coffee. That’s how we found out. Courtney phoned Market and he came right down. There’s some weirdo out there killing people.”