Whisker of Evil by Rita Mae Brown Page B

you. Victory.” Susan pointed to the tiny inscription on the ring underneath the Episcopal shield.
    â€œVespasian was sitting in his tent after a battle and his dog brought him a hand. He knew he’d be emperor. 69 A . D ., I think. It’s amazing how that Latin does stick in there.” She tapped her head. “That’s why I made Danny and Brooks take it. Danny is still taking it up at Cornell, and, Harry, he called me this morning and says he still doesn’t know what he wants to be. I thought he’d be a lawyer like his dad, but Brooks, you know, I think she’s heading that way. Well, it’s too early to tell. They have to find their own way.”
    â€œYou’re a good mother, Susan.”
    â€œTosh.” Susan waved away the compliment and handed back the ring to Harry. “What a lovely woman she was. Generous to a fault. I always thought she was brave because she never married, and in her generation you married even if you were as ugly as a mud fence.”
    â€œNever thought about it. We were in grade school when she disappeared. It amazes me how sensitive you were to other people even when we were kids.”
    â€œMary Pat was an original. Remember the time she let us ride on her track? We were nine years old and we thought we were in the homestretch for the Preakness!” Susan glowed.
    Harry, content after a full meal, lapsed into nostalgia, “I was on Silly Putty, that gray pony, and you were on Tickles. You won.”
    â€œYes, I did.”
    â€œWonder why Mary Pat didn’t marry. She was beautiful and rich. Maybe she figured if she married she’d lose control of her money,” Harry said. “Back then if you weren’t careful or if the trusts weren’t tied up, you did. I mean, women were chattel. And Mary Pat was making money from breeding horses. You could do that then. Maybe she didn’t want to risk losing that money. You know,” she sat upright, “I never did think about it. When you’re a kid you mostly think of yourself and your peers. I thought the world began with me.”
    Susan laughed. “I think that’s the way every generation feels until it matures. Mary Pat didn’t marry because she was gay.”
    â€œMary Pat?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œHow do you know?”
    â€œBig Mim told me. I mean in her own way. They were friends. Mim wasn’t direct about it exactly, but I put two and two together.”
    â€œMary Pat gay? Must have driven men wild. She was gorgeous,” Harry exclaimed.
    â€œSo were the women around her. I guess Mary Pat had an eye for a good woman just as she did for a horse.”
    â€œTo each her own.”
    â€œThat ring looks good on you.”
    â€œI wonder if she was killed because she was gay.” Harry reached for her teacup.
    â€œYou don’t know that she was killed. She could have suffered a heart attack and never been found.”
    â€œRight. She and Ziggy Flame had simultaneous heart attacks.” Harry mentioned the great stallion who disappeared along with Mary Pat.
    â€œZiggy—he was never found, either,” Susan mused.
    â€œMim said something. You know how smart she is. She said if I found the ring in the creek bed, then Mary Pat is somewhere upstream.”
    â€œPossibly.” Susan cleared the table, walked over, and put her hand on Harry’s shoulder. “When do you want to start looking?”
    Harry touched Susan’s hand. “Susan, you know me too well.”
    â€œCradle friends.”
    â€œHow about tomorrow after I get off work? And I’ll ask Fair so he doesn’t fuss.”
    â€œTomorrow. Meet you here at five-thirty?”
    â€œI’ll burn the wind getting home.” Harry got up to wash the dishes. “Oh, today a tourist all hot to get to Monticello somehow took a wrong turn and wound up at the post office. So Miranda gave her directions. And you know what this lady says as she