“Ma’am, are you all right?”
“Upset stomach. I’ll be fine.”
“I’ll escort you home. We’re close enough to go back to your place, don’t you think?”
“You rejoin the field. I’ll be fine, thank you.”
He hesitated.“It won’t take long. I can find them.”
It occurred to her that Walter might have killed Fontaine to revenge his father. She thought he was too smart to risk his career, his own life … but that didn’t mean he couldn’t have done it. Find a motive and you find the murderer. A thin ripple of fear shot through her. She shook it off. Even if he did have reason, she didn’t think he could ride well enough or knew enough about scent to lay a good drag. She was fluttery inside.
“I’m the master and I’m telling you to rejoin the field.”
“Yes, Master.” He obediently turned Clemson back toward the field, which was still waiting for hounds to find the line.
Sister walked across the creek meadows to the base of Hangman’s Ridge. She followed the base of the ridge until she was out of sight. She heard hounds strike again, moving across the creek meadows toward the woods. Once into the woods she turned back, squeezed Lafayette into a canter, skirted the meadow, jumping in at a stiff coop—three feet nine inches—used only by staff. This dropped her closer to the ravine. She dismounted, leading Lafayette to a sheltered overhang. Tying him to a low limb, she patted his neck. “Stay here, buddy, and stay silent.”
“Yes, but don’t leave me for long. It’s too good a day,” he pleaded.
She rubbed his head.“Silent, dear friend.” Then she used whatever cover she could find and slowly worked her way toward the rock outcroppings. She reached them in five minutes, slipping a few times. At the outcroppings she dropped down to the ledge, partially protected from view by holly bushes at the edge plus the low full limb of a fir tree. There she waited.
She heard hounds at the other edge of the ravine, the sound funneling down, then lifting up to her. She heard another check, another find, and she heard the pack split, the bulk moving away from her, a splinter group heading down into the ravine. Below her she saw Target, fat, glossy red, trotting down to the creek. Then he walked through the creek, crossing a bit above the rocky crossing where the envelope was tacked to the tree. To her amazement, Aunt Netty popped out of her den and Inky called from the tree she was perching in.
Target paused, barked something to Netty, then hearing the splinter group close in, he hurried up toward the rock outcroppings as Netty ducked back into the den, her nose still visible.
Low into the ravine flew St. Just, dive-bombing Target. And behind St. Just, closing fast was Dragon, three couple of young hounds racing with him.
“Kill him. Kill him,” St. Just screamed.
Hoofbeats thundered behind the rock outcropping. Sister shrank farther in, flat now against the rock. She prayed Lafayette, beautifully gray, wouldn’t catch the eye of the whip above her and he wouldn’t whinny to the horse. He didn’t.
Down into the ravine the whip rode and it wasn’t until she saw Keepsake that Sister knew it was Cody.
“What a gifted rider,” she thought to herself as Cody cracked her whip, trying to turn back Dragon.
St. Just dive-bombed Target again, so intent on his mission, the blue-black bird didn’t hear Athena overhead. She waited for St. Just to reach the bottom of his dive. Then with open talons she streamed down, raking the raven across the back.
Sister had never seen anything like it. The two birds climbed into the air and St. Just screamed at Athena, who silently flew to a high tree branch. St. Just swooped past her, then dove for Target again, who was climbing up toward the rock outcropping. Athena opened her wide wingspan, lifted off, again striking the raven, this time with her claws balled up. Black feathers flew and St. Just pulled off Target to face the huge owl. St. Just’s only weapon against his foe was speed. Athena’s size, wisdom, and famed ferocity ensured that only a fool would tangle with her.
By the time St. Just pulled away, turned in the air to strike again at the red fox, Target had reached the rock outcroppings, climbing to the ledge.
He froze when he saw Sister, then boldly ran right between her legs, ducking into the den behind her.
St. Just flew toward the den, squawking loudly. Cody, down at the creek crossing, would have seen Sister if she’d looked up but instead she was whipping off hounds and finally went to the ratshot to stop Dragon.
She fired.
“Ouch!” he yelped.
“Leave it!” She commanded. “Hold up,” she yelled at the other hounds, who were scared now.
Sister admired Cody’s whipping ability just as St. Just flew right in her face, screaming about Target. Athena struck again, knocking the raven sideways in the air. She scared Sister, who grabbed the fir limb.
Down below, Cody saw the envelope. She dismounted, holding the reins. She dropped the reins to reach the envelope.
As she did, Aunt Netty, who’d figured out the truth, stuck her head out of the den and taunted,“Nah-nah-nah-nah-nah!”
Dragon, butt full of ratshot, bolted toward the den. The others followed and Keepsake, green, spooked. He tore up the ravine.
Cody, hands shaking, whip draped around her neck, knew she couldn’t get him back. Then she heard Lafayette whinny.
“Come stand with me!” the gray called from his hiding place.
Keepsake, scared at the hounds bolting, scared that he would really be in trouble for leaving, picked his way up to Lafayette. By the time he reached the seasoned master’s horse he was lathered.
So was Cody as she read the letter.“I know who you are. Give yourself up and make it easy on everybody, yourself included.”
She slipped the letter into her frock coat pocket, looked around. She didn’t see Sister but she caught sight of Keepsake. She began climbing the ravine to reach her horse.
The hounds dug outside Netty’s hiding place but she was safe in the back with lots of ways out. She laughed at them.
Inky stayed put in the tree. St. Just, bruised, repaired to the top of a walnut. Athena sat opposite him just in case. She watched Cody finally reach Keepsake, where she saw Lafayette. Defeated, she waited for Sister.
Sister reached the rim of the ravine, picking her way around to the horses. Cody led out Lafayette, handing him to a woman she had been trained to obey since childhood.
“Why?”
Tears rolling down her face, Cody simply answered,“Jennifer. Even after rehab he’d give her drugs.”
“Oh, Cody, there had to be another way.”
“I hated him.”
Knowing that hate, like love, can’t be explained neatly away, that passion defies all logic, she put her hand on Cody’s shoulder. “Come on.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I know.” Sister swung up in the saddle.
“I’m not sorry I killed him. I’m sorry I dragged everyone into it.” A flash of panic hit. “Is there no way out?”
“No.” Sister turned to her as they reached the farm road in the woods. “Crawford shouldn’t pay for your sin.”
“He’s so rich he’ll get off.”
“That’s not the point. You have to turn yourself in.” Sister inhaled. “In a way I can understand why you killed Fontaine. You believed Jennifer wasn’t strong enough to resist him. You were wrong but I understand. But to kill a healthy red fox and to use the hunt for your revenge … Cody, that was beneath contempt.”
Although Cody could have fired ratshot straight into Sister’s face the thought didn’t occur to her. She’d acted impulsively once, fueled by love for her sister and hate for Fontaine. Her mind worked clearly enough now, even if her moral sense remained tilted. She hung her head, saying nothing.
Sister cupped her hands.“Come to me.” She yelled for her hounds, who, tricked by Aunt Netty, ran up out of the ravine. Knowing they’d been bad, once in sight of Sister, they crawled on their bellies. “I’m ashamed of you. Now come on.” She reprimanded them, which was worse than any ratshot from a whip, for the hounds loved Sister.