Free The Purrfect Murder by Rita Mae Brown Page B

your mother.”
    Little Mim sat bolt upright. “No woman ever wants to hear that!” Then she flopped back. “But I suppose there’s some truth to it. I wish I were more extroverted, like Dad. I have to work at this shake-and-howdy stuff.”
    â€œYou’re doing great. Well, I’ve said what I had to say. Obviously, your mother will hear all about it.”
    â€œShe sent you?”
    â€œNo. She wouldn’t do that. Miranda asked me to talk to you, because she’s worried that this will cause social rifts, and she’s worried about the fund-raiser for Poplar Forest. She told me your mother said you couldn’t sit at her table.”
    â€œMother is being very petty. She also threatened to cut me out of her will. Go ahead, Mother. Just go ahead.” Little Mim waved her hand. “Aunt Tally named me as her heir, and that’s half the family fortune. It would kill Mother for me to be completely independent.”
    â€œLittle Mim, none of us is ever completely independent of our mother. Even Hitler couldn’t shake his love and grief over his mother’s early death.”
    â€œI can try,” she uttered defiantly. “Come on, let’s go to the cottage. Blair and I are building an addition. You haven’t seen the plan.” As they left the main house, Little Mim called out, “Aunt Tally, we’re going to the cottage.”
    â€œAll right, dear. Good to see you, Harry.”
    â€œGood to see you, Aunt Tally.”
    The formal gardens, with their boxwood clipped and crisp, overflowed with fall flowers. Aunt Tally kept up the old spring gardens, summer gardens, and fall gardens laid out with such thoughtfulness back in 1834. Her additions to the original plan were to have climbing roses on every fence line and over the old stone outbuildings and to nurture shiny dark-green ivy to embrace the gorgeous stone stables.
    Those stables finally housed four horses. Like all horsewomen, the first thing Little Mim did when she moved into the cottage was to refurbish the stables, fallow since 1982. Blair attacked the cottage, realizing, thanks to Harry, that horse people are in the grip of an obsession not addressed by logic.
    Doodles—the fuzzy in his mouth—Tucker, Mrs. Murphy, and Pewter scampered throughout the garden path, which was brick laid in a herringbone pattern. Pewter hated to leave the glowing ball behind, but outdoors provided the chance to snag a bug or maybe something bigger.
    Then something bigger slithered right across her path: a four-foot blacksnake.
    â€œSnake!”
Pewter froze in her tracks.
    Mrs. Murphy pounced on the tail, which made the large snake curl up.
    â€œDon’t you dare,” Harry reprimanded her tiger cat. “Blacksnakes are friends.”
    â€œOh, bother.”
Mrs. Murphy stepped backward.
    The snake, flicking out his pink tongue, murmured,
“I catch more mice than you do.”
With that, he disappeared under the periwinkle ground cover.
    â€œWhat an insult!”
Mrs. Murphy puffed out her tail, but Harry paid her no mind.
    â€œWe’re home.” Little Mim threw open the cottage door, painted royal blue, as were the shutters.
    â€œIn the back,” Blair called out.
    The wives came out on the patio to find two happy men, wreathed in smoke, drinks in hand.
    â€œI want to show Harry and Fair what we’re doing.”
    Blair stood up, kissed Harry on the cheek. “Let me get the plans.” He disappeared inside, then reappeared, unrolling the plans on the wrought-iron-and-glass table.
    â€œIt’s a two-pronged attack.” Little Mim pointed to the south side of the cottage, where one bedroom now existed. “We can use the existing door so we don’t have to tear out stone, and we’ll create a master suite on that end, which will be warmer in winter than building on the north side.” She moved her finger to the west, to the patio on which they now stood.