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Authors: Rita Mae Brown

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BOOK: Cat of the Century
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Mrs. Murphy and Pewter patted the jars. Pewter even unleashed her claws, sticking them in the cork.

“Would you look at those animals?” Aunt Tally was amused.

Inez, reading the invoice and checking off the jars, said, “According to this, there’s nothing inside them.”

Garvey picked one up. “Could be sand. You know, fill them so they won’t break as readily.”

“Liz,” Inez called out.

Liz popped her head into the storage room.

“Do you know what’s in these jars?”

Liz shook her head no, then said, “Let’s finish up. Tina can open them on Friday. I need to get over to Merrill Lynch for a meeting.”

“Okay.”

Another half hour and all was done. The cardboard had been broken down and folded, and Harry had tied it up with twine, of which the store had plenty. She knew where the dump for businesses was, behind the center.

After everyone had left the store and she’d locked the door, Liz said with a shaky voice, “Thank you all. Thank you so much.”

As Harry drove behind the supermarket with the cardboard, Tucker moaned,
“Erno was right. We should have broken one of those jars.”

“You’ll get your chance. Mom will be down Friday to check on Tina. Her curiosity will get the better of her,”
Mrs. Murphy predicted.

O
n Friday, April 24, Harry and Inez marveled at the east side of the Blue Ridge, which was covered with white from the dogwoods, with flashes of pink in places. All it took was a few consistent days of fifty- to sixty-degree temperatures and the increasing light for the world to truly awaken. The apple groves gave off a wonderful fragrance, as they, too, were in bloom. The world shone white, pink, and magenta from the redbuds. Could there be anything as wondrous in the world as an Appalachian spring?

Harry organized her shopping trips to Charlottesville to one a week, but the last few weeks had upended that schedule. She was burning more gas than she wanted to.

The cats and dogs complained loudly when left in the wagon with the windows cracked open.

Inez walked into Terri’s store, as Harry dashed into Thompson and Watson for a minute. After a quick visit with Garvey and a look at the wonderful colors of the Fred Perry polo shirts he had, she left. Good as all the other polo shirts were, they were all copies of the original Fred Perry. The French might argue that René Lacoste got there first, but no matter.

“Where’s Inez?” Harry asked as she walked into the store. “Sorry. I’m Harry Haristeen. You must be Tina Hotchkiss.”

The slender woman in her mid-forties smiled. “Inez is in the storage room.”

Harry called out, “Inez, what are you doing in there?”

Inez came out. “I can’t find the little pots—the pint-size and quart-size pots with the beautiful glazes. Tina says she never saw them.”

“I have the large ones. Aren’t they beautiful?”

“They certainly are,” Inez agreed. “Tina, these had some of the same glazes but were small; you could use them for flower arrangements. And they were heavy. Full of sand, I guess, with big round corks sealed with wax.”

“Never saw them.” Tina shrugged.

Harry changed the subject. “Much business?”

“Yes, I’ve been pleasantly surprised.”

Harry asked, “May I?” as she reached for a small notepad on the counter.

“Of course.”

She scribbled her home number and her cell. “If you need anything, I’m about a half hour away in Crozet—more when it’s peak traffic time. But I can get here.”

“Thank you so much. Garvey offered his services, too.”

“Did you know Terri?” Inez inquired.

“Actually, I didn’t. I know Liz from our days in Junior League. ’Course, we’re too old now.” She smiled. “But not that old. Anyway, I had an art gallery down on Cary Street in Richmond. Liz and Tim were regulars, and I got to know him a bit, too. I finally gave it up. I’d worked around the clock for ten years. That was enough, but now that I’m back here, I realize how much I miss retail. The challenge of it.”

“I don’t know how anyone does it.” Harry smiled back at her. “We’re sure glad you’re here.”

Once Harry was back in the wagon, up went the windows and she cranked the motor.

“Can you swing by BB&T?” Inez named a regional bank that had bought out many small local banks over the last ten years.

“Sure, Inez. Let me think a minute. Our best bet will be over by the
university, by the giant clam. There’s one down there on 250. Won’t be too crowded.”

“Isn’t that clam the ugliest thing you’ve ever seen?” Inez mentioned the basketball arena.

“It is. If you want to make a list of hateful architecture, we could start with Madison Square Garden.”

“Fortunately, I don’t go to New York anymore, so I don’t have to see it. To think that Penn Station, one of the most beautiful public buildings in America, was destroyed for that ugly mess.”

“Was Penn Station a public building?” Harry wondered.

“You know, I’m not sure. Somewhere along the line it was owned by the railroad. Ah, here we are. That didn’t take long.”

“Want to go to the drive-in window?”

“No. I just want to check my account balance. Tally teases me. She says I’m obsessive about my money. I won’t repeat what I tell her, but it rhymes with ‘rich witch.’”

“Want me to come with you?”

“No, I’m fine. This way you can turn on the radio.” Inez winked as she opened the door, grateful that the station wagon wasn’t any lower to the ground.

Harry did turn on the radio, just in time to hear one of her favorite Kenny Chesney songs.

“When the sun goes down.”
Tucker and Erno sang along.

“Will you two shut up?”
the cats instantly complained.

The dogs didn’t.

Mrs. Murphy and Pewter hopped over onto the backseats.

“Send them to Nashville. I don’t want to hear it.”
Pewter’s hackles rose to indicate further displeasure.

“Jealous, oh, so jealous,”
Tucker sang to the melody.

“That dog is mental. Seriously,”
Pewter intoned.

“Uh-oh.” Harry looked at Inez’s face as she exited the bank.

Inez got into the vehicle, fished into her purse, and plucked out her cell phone. “Something’s not right. I told Liz to sell my Delta Petroleum stocks.” She named a company in which she had a small number of stocks. “Seems she didn’t do it, because the funds were to
be transferred into my account. These things are so easy now. When I was young I had to go to my broker in person.”

“Obviously, she forgot.”

“Harry, if you’re in financial services you don’t forget things like that. Not if you want to stay in business.”

She dialed the office.

The recording said, “You’ve reached Filmore Investment Services. This is Tim. I’m in Frankfurt this week, but Liz will get back to you. Thank you for calling.”

“Rats.” Inez next dialed Liz’s cell.

Again, she heard a recording.

At the beep, Inez spoke in clear tone, “Liz, this is Inez. My funds aren’t in my account at BB&T. Please call me. Also, the lovely little pots are not at the store. Thought you’d like to know. You can reach me on my cell. Good-bye.” She pressed the end button. “I am furious. Flat-out furious.” Then she dialed again. “Liz, sometimes my cell doesn’t work near the mountains. It’s eleven. I’ll be at Tally’s until two.”

On the way to Rose Hill, Harry turned her eyes from the road for an instant. “Inez, why wouldn’t the pots be there?”

“Dammed if I know.”

“Because Liz came back and took them.” Harry waited a beat, as Inez sharply turned her head. “Right. Who else has a key? Maybe Garvey. He’s so close. It’s possible Terri trusted him with a key. Worth a call.”

“Call him. I’ll call him. You’re driving.” Inez punched in the numbers. “Hello, is Garvey Watson there?” Pause. “Garvey, this is Inez…. Fine. How are you?” Pause. “Say, Garvey, you don’t have a key to Terri’s store, do you?” Another pause. “Just checking. Hope you sell a lot of good stuff this weekend.” Pause. “You, too.” She rested her chin in her palm.

The minute Harry and Inez got to Aunt Tally’s, Inez used the landline to try Liz’s cell again, getting the same result.

“Damn.” She put down the phone, then explained everything to her old friend.

Harry told the two ladies, “I’m going over to Little Mim’s. Said I’d
help her put in her vegetable garden. If I dig in the dirt, it helps clean my mind. I’m a little jangled.”

“Honey, we all are.” Aunt Tally then suggested, “Want to leave your critters here? Just in case Tucker decides to dig.”

“I’m not a terrier.”
Tucker was incensed.

“No, you’re a bubble butt.”
Pewter giggled.

As Harry left, Inez counseled Aunt Tally, “Why don’t you get the balance on your checking and savings accounts?”

“I didn’t sell any stock,” Aunt Tally responded. “Well, maybe I should.”

“Does anyone have access to your account?”

“No. I keep my bank books in the drawer of my desk.”

“What about Bev?” She named Aunt Tally’s housekeeper, daughter of Big Mim’s housekeeper. “Where is she, by the way?”

“Grocery shopping. Fridays are supermarket days. She goes out to the Harris Teeter on 250.”

Doodles followed, along with Tucker and Erno, as the two women walked into the den.

Aunt Tally pulled out her bank books and dialed.

After giving her account number, she listened, then looked up at Inez. “I’m fine.”

The two returned to the living room, where light poured in through the triple-sash windows.

“You know how I get about money. I’m probably being too fussy.” Inez then said, “Let’s take a walk. I’ll feel better.”

The two went out to enjoy the early blooms in the garden, returning for a cup of tea in forty-five minutes. The air had invigorated them.

They had no sooner sat down, with Aunt Tally leaning her gold-headed cane against the table, than the three dogs barked.

“Intruder! Intruder!”

A knock on the door got them both up.

Inez reached the door first and opened it. “Liz.”

“Come in,” Aunt Tally said, as she rested her right hand on her cane.

“I am so sorry. I did sell the stock, but I forgot to transfer the money. I just called the office, but our secretary is out to lunch and
Tim is in Frankfurt.” Liz was wearing a lime-colored blazer, which she didn’t take off.

“What’s he doing there?” Inez’s voice sounded cool.

“It’s the finance capital of Germany. We do some business there. Tim calls it Mainhattan.” She laughed at her joke—Frankfurt was on the Main River.

“That smell.”
Tucker sniffed Liz’s ankles.

“Liz, what’s going on? The little jars aren’t in Terri’s shop. You were the only person who could have taken them. And you’ve certainly been in Charlottesville a lot.”

Liz’s face darkened. “I have business there, and Terri needed me.”

“I’d like one of those jars.” Aunt Tally acted as though nothing was amiss.

“I can get you one. Just let me clean them up.”

“I don’t mind doing that.”

“Liz, I’m entertaining unhappy thoughts.” Inez moved toward the living room.

The dogs followed, as did the cats, who promptly jumped up on the back of the sofa.

“Whatever about?” Liz’s voice rose.

“Well.” Inez didn’t sit down, nor did Aunt Tally or Liz. “You were at the celebration in Fulton. After Mariah disappeared, we all assumed when the weather cleared you flew home to Richmond. Were you still in Missouri when Flo was killed? I wish I had called you when I got home but why would I? I never once thought to check up on you. You seemed so distressed when Flo was killed. And then these last days you’ve been with Terri. Now, I can’t prove where you were at any given moment, but it’s becoming peculiar. My bank account is also peculiar. You don’t make mistakes like that, Liz. You don’t sell stocks and forget to wire the money into an account.”

“I was terribly upset by Terri’s death. You’ve been overwrought at times in your life, Inez. People can make mistakes or be forgetful.”

“I think not. Where’s my money?”

Tucker edged over right behind Liz, sensing the younger woman tensing up.

BOOK: Cat of the Century
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