“And?” Betty stared at her.
“I told her to stop.”
“Did you?” Betty focused on Jennifer.
“Yeah. I went to rehab. I never got the chance to go back, I guess. I mean I didn’t even talk to him until opening hunt. Hi. That was it. So yeah, I stopped.”
“Do you think Fontaine bribed your little sister with drugs to get even with you?” Bobby felt sick to his stomach.
As distressed as her father, Cody replied,“I don’t know. I don’t think so but then again I didn’t think he’d seduce Jennifer in the first place. He could have done it to get back at me. Anything’s possible.”
“Did you tell him to stop?”
Cody exhaled.“Mom, I went over to his stable to pick up my tack. I didn’t want to ride for him anymore. I wanted to put everything in my place, since I was going into rehab. He drove in just as I was driving out. He rolled down the window of his Jag and I told him to stay away from Jennifer.”
“What did he do?” Bobby stepped away from the fireplace toward Cody.
“Nothing. He rolled his window back up.” She shrugged. “Nothing.”
Jennifer, crying again, asked,“Does this mean I can’t go to Thanksgiving hunt?”
Bobby and Betty looked at each other and then at Jennifer.
“No.” Bobby said. “It doesn’t mean that. We’re better off doing the things we usually do. It’s worse to hide.”
“People will laugh at me.” Jennifer sniffled.
“Get it over with.” Cody didn’t relish the spectacle either. “Let them laugh and get it out of their systems. After a while they’ll be bored with it.”
“I can’t go back to school.”
“You can and you will. Ignore Dean Offendahl. His father was an ass to protect him. The only way you learn about life is to pay for your mistakes. If you don’t pay, believe me, there’s a much bigger bill waiting for you down the road. Pay up, Jennifer. Hold your head up and just keep walking.”
“That’s easy for you to say, Dad,” she sniped.
“Not so easy. Crawford Howard came into the shop and called you two coke whores,” he fired right back at her. “And you aren’t the only person in the world, Jennifer Franklin. I’ve got feelings, too. So does your mother. We’re in this together; let’s think together.”
“He called us that?” Cody was outraged.
“If that asshole says one word to me in the hunt field, there will be two murders. I’ll commit mine right in front of God and everybody!” Bobby exploded.
CHAPTER 62
Being no fool, Crawford Howard hired a public relations specialist from New York City. Since his .38 was the weapon used in the commission of a crime, since he was booked on suspicion of murder and released on bail, he needed damage control.
Jonathan Sweiss arranged special interviews with the local television station, the local newspaper, and the Richmond paper as well.
Crawford, being a man of the world, was not surprised when Jonathan didn’t ask if he really had killed Fontaine Buruss. Jonathan didn’t care. He was hired to perform a service and this he did.
In each of the interviews, Crawford explained that he did not like Fontaine, a personality conflict as well as a conflict of modus operandi. Differences between them had escalated during the past six weeks. Crawford expressed no regret at Fontaine’s death because he said that would be false but he vehemently declared he did not kill the man, he would not kill any man unless in self-defense.
Martha stood by him, the ordeal bringing them closer together.
The social consequences were immediate. Fontaine’s friends dropped them both from their lists whereas everyone else picked them up. The thrill of having a possible murderer in their midst proved enticing to many a jaded hostess.
After all this he called Sister Jane, ready for a fight. He was going to argue that he paid his dues and therefore he should be able to hunt no matter what people thought. Hunting was about sport not about what people thought, did, wore, et cetera… . He was stoked.
After hellos he stated,“I intend to hunt Thanksgiving. I know some people in the hunt field think I’m a murderer but—”
Coolly she interrupted before he got rolling.“Crawford, the laws of the land are innocent until proven guilty. You’ve been charged but you haven’t been convicted. I’ll see you at Whiskey Ridge on Thursday.”
He hung up the phone pleased with her response. Later it dawned on him that she would have to answer for allowing him to hunt. He wasn’t making her life any easier but still he was determined not to slink away. The difficulties of being a master were slowly percolating in his brain. Maybe you couldn’t run a hunt club like a business.
CHAPTER 63
The small piles of corn brought out birds, woodchucks, deer as well as foxes.
Aunt Netty merrily nibbled away, ignoring the beautiful little bluebird swooping down next to her. The bird would grab a mouthful, then fly up to a tree branch. No matter how mellow Netty appeared to be, no reason to take chances.
The sides of the ravine loomed up; a few shady crevices had thin lines of snow stark against the dark gray rocks. The ravine remained cool.
Inky picked her way down the sloping southern edge.
Aunt Netty, her sleek head deep red now that her winter coat was in, called out,“Hello.”
Inky bounded next to her.“Isn’t this wonderful?” She ate a big mouthful of rich yellow corn.
“Sister’s laid a trail. We might as well enjoy it. It’s miles of trail. She’s been working on it for days. She’s even got corn under the hanging tree.”
“Does she normally do this before the biggest hunts?”
“No. Sister only puts out food when weather’s bad—like during the blizzards or during a terrible drought. She feels that we have to hunt for our food or we’ll get soft. I expect she’s right.” Netty munched more corn, careful not to drop any.
“I wonder what she’s going to do? A light frost tonight will ensure that our scent is everywhere. Mom and Dad will be out. I guess you all will be out.”
“Uncle Yancy will eat and go to bed. He said he did his duty on opening hunt.” Aunt Netty smiled.“I don’t know who will stay out but if they do retire, scent should be good for a while anyway. Given reports from the other foxes, I expect Sister made a loop of about four miles.”
“She won’t run people through here.” Inky appreciated the ravine’s inhospitable character for galloping.
“Maybe not but she’s got something on her mind.” Netty pointed to an envelope inside a plastic baggie tacked to a tree by the pool at the creek crossing.
“Trying to catch Reynard’s killer.”
Netty smiled.“Well, she’s trying to catch Fontaine’s killer but it amounts to the same thing, same person. You know there are a lot of hiding places in here. I’m going to be down here. I won’t run tomorrow. There are enough other foxes to do that. I want to be fresh to see what happens down here and to be ready for anything. What are your plans?”
“I was going to wait on the back side of Hangman’s Ridge, then go down toward the kennels.”
“Let me make a suggestion. Stay here in the ravine. Let me show you the dens. One or two are occupied by groundhogs but those are near the top of the ravine. You may have need of them and then again you may not. I suggest you not participate tomorrow either. When you hear hounds coming this way—and some will—climb a tree so that you can see everything. Between both of us we ought to figure out what’s going on.”
“Won’t hounds pick up my scent and wind up under the tree?”
“With any luck, the hunted fox, most probably Target at this point, will run through this crossing and up toward the rocks. He can easily lose hounds there. If, for some reason, that doesn’t happen, sit tight.”
“That will bring down the huntsman.”Inky thought a moment.“Huntsman and probably a whip.”She shook her head.“Won’t work. That will foul up the plan. Even though we don’t know what the plan is I’m sure it doesn’t call for two foxes in the ravine.”