Free Whisker of Evil by Rita Mae Brown Page B

complimented Blair.
    â€œI enjoy it. I like being outside.” Blair, although one of the highest-paid models in America, was growing weary of flying to locations over the world, dealing with the egos of photographers and other models.
    â€œHarry, I haven’t seen you since Saturday.” Little Mim pushed a lock of hair from her eyes. “You okay?”
    â€œYeah.” Harry shrugged. “I felt terrible for Barry.”
    â€œAnd they still don’t know what killed him?” Blair put his arm around Little Mim’s shoulders.
    â€œYancy performed the autopsy.” Fair mentioned the coroner. “Sent off tissue samples to Richmond. I ran into him this afternoon and he hadn’t heard anything back, but sometimes these things can take a month or longer depending on how backed up they are down there.”
    â€œDid he find anything on the body?” Blair, like everyone else, was curious.
    â€œNot that he mentioned. He said Barry had no marks on him except for his throat. And here’s the really strange part: The wound was clean. Clean as if it had been surgically created. No saliva. No bits of rust.” Fair shook his head. “Yancy hopes that something will show up in the blood work.”
    â€œIt’s so clean it almost seems premeditated.” Little Mim, intelligent like all the Urquhart clan, pursed her lips.
    â€œBy an animal?” Blair handed Harry his kerchief, since she hadn’t removed all the dirt.
    â€œThe human animal,”
Mrs. Murphy quietly said.

11

    A pair of brilliant turquoise eyes peered out of the passenger side of the car. Sissi, a gray tuxedo cat, was irritated that her human, Rose Marie Dunlap, was chatting at the gas pump at the Amoco station.
    Sissi accompanied the always well-turned-out Rose Marie on her regular trips from Washington, D. C., to Crozet. She enjoyed riding in the car but she enjoyed arriving at their destination even more, the farm of Rose Marie’s daughter, Beth Marcus.
    â€œI haven’t seen you in ages.” Rose Marie smiled.
    â€œYou know it’s been years since I’ve been back here.” Marshall Kressenberg, florid, bent over to shake her hand. “I was coming back from Lexington, Kentucky, and thought I’d stop by to see some of my old running buddies. Course, I should have called first. Everyone’s out and about.” He accented “out and about” the Virginia way, which also sounds Canadian. “You’re looking well.”
    And indeed, Rose Marie Dunlap’s appearance—petite, fresh, and healthy—belied her eighty-six years.
    â€œI keep busy. For one thing, Sissi keeps me busy.”
    At the sound of her name Sissi meowed,
“Let’s go to Beth’s now!”
    Marshall laughed as the cat continued to jabber. “Well, I’m so glad to see you.” He opened the door to his truck.
    â€œI read your name in the sports pages. I’m glad you’ve done so well.”
    He closed the door, window down. “It’s a good thing the horses are running and not me. I wouldn’t make it to the first pole.” He laughed, cut on the motor, and drove off.
    â€œ
We can go now
,” Sissi grumbled.
    Rose Marie slid behind the wheel. “You can be so impatient.”
    Marshall switched on his cell phone, dialing Big Mim’s barn number. Big Mim had a good breeding program, good but small. He wouldn’t mind seeing what she had before the sales. The barn recording came on. He disconnected and headed out toward I-64. Tavener could tell him what Mim had on the ground. Maybe it was just as well no one was around. He’d get pulled into long conversations, and he needed to get back to Maryland.
    Too much going on in the horse world right now.

12

    A sample of Barry Monteith’s brain tissues rested under the fluorescence microscope.
    The gang at the lab examined a variety of Barry’s tissue samples. Given the odd