“I’m sorry you got on the bad side of her.” Harry leaned on the counter.
“No, no, that’s not it. You see, then Josiah mentioned that the government, the federal government, has never forgiven the draft evaders, not really, and Ned, who arrived after you left—quite drawn-looking, too, I must say—well, Ned laughed and said the IRS never forgives anyone. The power to tax is the power to destroy, and I said maybe it was just as well that Maude was dead because they’d catch up with her sooner or later.”
“Oh, no!” Harry exclaimed.
“Conversation ran to other topics and I didn’t think about it until now.”
“Why now?”
“I don’t know exactly. The rain made me remember all that water in Mim’s boat. What if—what if Mim wasn’t the killer’s target? After all, Mim can swim.”
“I see.” Harry rubbed her temples. This felt worse than a headache.
The entire town knew about Mim’s slashed pontoon because the workers Jim used to lift the boat onto his truck saw the damage. By now everyone was jumping to conclusions, so the gossip all over town was that Mim was the intended victim.
Mrs. Hogendobber breathed in sharply. “What do I do now?”
“If anyone brings up your slip—you know, asks a leading question about Maude and the IRS—pick up the phone and call me. Better yet, call Rick Shaw.”
“Oh, dear.”
“Mrs. H., you must trust me. The killer gives a signal before he strikes—I can’t tell you what it is. He gives warning, which makes me wonder if the slashed pontoon was really aimed at you.”
“Do you think he’ll kill me? Is that what you’re saying?” Her voice was quite calm.
“I hope not.”
“If I tell Rick Shaw he’ll know what we’ve done.”
“I think we’d better tell him. What’s he going to do? Arrest us? Listen to me. You have absolutely got to remember who was there after I left.”
“Myself, Mim, Little Marilyn, Jim, old Dr. Johnson, and Ned. That reminds me, what is going on with Ned and Susan? Oh, Susan was there, of course.”
“Just remember the names and I’ll tell you about Ned.”
This encouraged her. “U-m-m, Fair and Josiah—well, that’s obvious.”
“No, nothing is obvious. Are you certain there wasn’t anyone else? What about Market? What about any of the kids?”
“No, Market wasn’t there, nor Courtney.”
“This isn’t good.”
Mrs. Hogendobber put her back to the wall for support. She wiped her brow. “I’m not used to not trusting people. I feel horrible.”
Harry’s voice softened. “None of us is used to that. You can’t be expected to change a behavior overnight—and maybe it’s better that you don’t. Except until we catch this killer, well, we’re going to have to be on our toes. Why don’t you have Larry’s wife stay with you tonight, or better yet, go over there.”
“Do you think it’s that bad?”
“No,” Harry lied. “But why take chances?”
“You believe that Maude and Kelly were shipping out dope, don’t you? I do. They had to be in business together. So who’s the kingpin?”
“Some sweet Crozet person we play tennis with or go to church with. A woman or a man we’ve known for years.”
“Why?” Mrs. Hogendobber might preach about evil, but when confronted with it she was at a loss. She expected the Devil with green horns or a human being with a snarling face. It had never once occurred to her in her long and relatively happy life that evil is ordinary.
Harry shrugged in answer to Mrs. Hogendobber’s question. “Love or money.”
After Mrs. Hogendobber drove off, Harry returned to work with renewed vigor. Since she felt helpless about Mrs. Hogendobber, she could feel purposeful in cleaning the office. She could get one thing to work right in her life.
Then Fair walked into the post office.
“I tried to be a good husband—you know that, don’t you?” Fair cleared his throat.
“Yes.” Harry held her breath.
“We never discussed what we expected from each other. Perhaps we should have.”
“What’s wrong? Come out and say it. Just come out with it, for chrissake.” Harry reached out to touch him and stopped herself.
Fair stammered, “Nothing’s wrong. We made our mistakes. I just wanted to say that.”
He left. He wanted to tell her about BoomBoom. The truth. He tried. He couldn’t.
Harry wondered, Was he mixed up in these murders? He was acting so strange. It couldn’t be. No way.
28
Mrs. Hogendobber’s fears were justified. Rick Shaw seethed when Harry and Mrs. Hogendobber confessed about Xeroxing the second ledger.
By the time Harry got home she decided if this wasn’t the worst day in her life, it certainly qualified as so bad she didn’t want it repeated.
She called Susan, telling her about Fair’s peculiar behavior. Susan declared that Fair was in the grief stage of the divorce. Harry asked her to come to the post office in the morning for a long coffee break. After she hung up she decided she’d tell Susan about the bug postcard she had received. She needed Susan’s response. Anyway, if she couldn’t trust her best friend, life wasn’t worth living.
29
Tucker chewed a big knucklebone behind the meat counter. Market Shiflett, in a generous mood, gave her a fresh one. Mrs. Murphy and Pewter received smaller beef bones. They happily gnawed away while catching up on recent events. Ozzie, Bob Berryman’s Australian shepherd, had been down at the mouth. Pewter claimed he hardly wagged his tail and barked. Mim Sanburne’s snotty Afghan hound had lost his testicles yesterday. The animal news, usually rich in the summer, lagged behind the human news this year.
Tucker recounted Rick Shaw’s livid explosion. Poor Mrs. Hogendobber thought she was going to jail.
Courtney paid scant attention to these three animals cracking bones and talking among themselves. Her large hoop earrings clattered.
“When did Courtney start dressing like a gypsy?” Mrs. Murphy, conservative about attire, wanted to know.
“She’s trying to attract Danny Tucker’s attention. He’ll be mowing Maude Bly Modena’s lawn today. He’ll hear her before he sees her.” Pewter had eaten so much she lay down on one side and rested her head on her outstretched arm.
“Guess you heard what he did?”
“Mrs. Murphy told me yesterday while you were out doing potty, as Harry calls it.” Pewter laughed. “I don’t mind Harry’s expressions so much except when she tells you to go potty her voice rises half an octave. Say, not only is Courtney sticking big hoops in her ears but last night when Market was out she made herself a martini. She wants to be sophisticated and she thought drinking a martini would do it. Ha! Tastes like lighter fluid.”
“She’s young.” Mrs. Murphy tore off a slender thread of red meat.
“Tell me about it. Human beings take forty years to grow up and half of them don’t do it then. We’re ready for the world at six months.”
“We’re not really grown up though, Pewter.” Mrs. Murphy licked her chops. “I’d say we’re fully adult at one year. I wonder, why does it take them so long?”
“Retarded,” came Pewter’s swift reply. “I mean, will you look at Courtney Shiflett. If she were a child of mine those earrings would be out of those ears so fast she wouldn’t know what hit her.”
“At least she works. Think of all those humans who don’t even earn a living until their middle twenties. She works after school and she works in the summer. She’s a good kid.” Mrs. Murphy thought most humans lazy, the young ones especially.