An eye-wateringly expensive watch is found discarded on the land days prior to a dead body turning up. “Sister” Jane Arnold sets out to find the connection between the two, with a little help from her friend—both two legged and four—in this transportive mystery from New York Times bestselling author Rita Mae Brown.
“Cunning foxes, sensible hounds, and sweet-tempered horses are among the sparkling conversationalists in this charming series.”—The New York Times Book Review
Between organizing a joint session with her friends at Bull Run Hunt, leading her own Jefferson Hunt Club’s fox hunting season, and looking after her beloved hounds and horses, “Sister” Jane Arnold is as busy as can be. She and her friend Tootie Harris are helping to lure home hunt club member Cindy Chandler’s two escaped cows, Clytemnestra and Orestes, when they discover an expensive watch carelessly abandoned on an overgrown path. The last thing Sister needs is another mystery to solve, but when one falls into her lap, she can’t help but get involved.
Days later, a young man is murdered, one with seemingly no connection to the pricey jewelry or a life of crime. His mother is distraught, and Sister vows to find the murderer. But when hounds on the hunt discover a truck covered in blood – with no body in sight – she quickly realizes she’s in over her head with a cunning and clever adversary. Can she find the link and stop the murderer before they strike again? Only time will tell.
Release date:
November 12, 2024
Publisher:
Bantam
Print pages:
304
* BingeBooks earns revenue from qualifying purchases as an Amazon Associate as well as from other retail partners.
Sunset brushed the west side of Cedar Mountain with gold. As twilight embraced the trees, the bush turned to scarlet, lavender, and finally the color of a dove’s wing. Daylight birds and mammals tucked up. Night creatures began to move. The bats spoke as they flew, but most of the night animals remained silent.
If one believes in ghosts, this is when the fallen at the battle of Cedar Mountain appear. Even if one doesn’t believe in spirits, being at a place of extreme emotion casts an eerie spell. One would have to be half-dead not to feel it.
Two women watched the colors as the day quietly ended. November 2, Thursday, was a hunt day for Bull Run Hunt. One of the masters, Adrianna Waddy, stood next to Jane Arnold, Sister Jane, the master of the Jefferson Hunt. The two hunts, an hour away from each other as the crow flies, took a good hour and a half to travel to one or the other from each hunt’s kennels. Heavy traffic clogging roads, thanks to the unchecked growth of Charlottesville, Virginia, might make it two hours, if you wanted to show up on time for the first cast of the hounds.
Sister Jane, about thirty years older than Adrianna, had come up to visit and hunt. Her best friend, Betty Franklin, and another hunt member, Alida Dalzell, drove the big trailer with everyone’s horses. They brought Sister’s horse back to Roughneck Farm, took care of the big boy. As anyone who has ever worked with horses knows, this is a great kindness. Sister wanted to stay behind to talk with Adrianna. Masters share many similar problems, regardless of the hunt. Bull Run was enjoying an expansion, plus the regrooming of the various fixtures, never an easy task.
Sister shivered for a moment.
“Cold?” Adrianna asked.
“It felt as though a cold hand brushed my face.” Sister smiled, adding, “Time of year. We’re on the cusp of fall turning into winter; I always feel it so strongly.”
Adrianna nodded. “If I don’t feel it, my feet do.”
“There is that. The leaves have fallen, so one can really see the land. Makes hunting easier.”
“Well, I love the color of cubbing.” Adrianna mentioned the season before formal hunting when the attire changes as well as a few rules of foxhunting. “But it’s so much easier when you can see and this is such an odd fixture. It’s not super steep but it’s steep enough, the footing so variable. I have to keep my wits about me.”
“Oh, Adrianna, you always have your wits about you.”
A rueful smile crossed her lips. “Not always.”
They both climbed back into the ATV, big enough to be called a mule, with a small wagon behind it. “That’s how we learn.”
Adrianna fired up the motor, her retired foxhound, Magnum, sat in the backseat, observing all. A hound never knew when a whiff of his quarry might present itself, so he turned his head from side to side then lifted his nose straight up.
“He never stops, does he?”
Adrianna laughed. “He doesn’t realize he is retired and I wish you had known him in his prime. The most beautiful voice I have ever heard.”
“Well, I wish you had known me in my prime,” Sister fired back.
“You can still outride most of us.”
“You flatter me. You, Lynn Pirozzoli, tough girls. And let us not forget, from my area, Carolyn Chapmen, Jennifer Nesbitt, Lynne Gebhard. All dazzling as ever.”
“How about your young whipper-in? What’s her name?”
“Tootie, Anne Harris. So bright.”
“Good rider. There are fewer and fewer young people who can really ride. Even when I was young, there weren’t as many distractions, but now, well, now I guess most parents are taxi drivers, ferrying those kids from one activity to another.”
Still looking to the west, Sister agreed, then said, “It’s, well, a feeling. We’re on the site of an early battle. Who knows what’s underfoot? Stop for a minute,” Sister requested. “Is that lovely farm to the east a fixture?”
“Constance Hall, an old one. Two sisters bought it last year. So far so good. They let us hunt through. The younger one hunts, the older one occasionally goes out,” Adrianna said.
“Sounds good. Are these like maiden aunts?” Sister raised an eyebrow.
“No. Forties. Both had endured divorces, took the money, and here they are.”
“Is there such a thing as a good divorce?” Sister sounded rhetorical.
“People say there is. I’d be more worried about living with a sister, but they get along.”
“You’re right. I didn’t think of that. Your sister or brother knows when you stole cookies out of the cookie jar.”
They laughed. Adrianna lifted her foot off the brake.
Magnum informed them, “Deer nearby.”
“Are you being chatty?” Adrianna asked.
“Giving a report. They’ll cross the path behind you. You won’t know they’re here.” The impressive foxhound dearly loved Adrianna but knew she couldn’t smell a thing.
“Are you getting a lot of new people? The area, thanks to Richmond’s growth, Charlottesville, too, has become desirable.”
Adrianna slowed for a small pothole. “We are. Interesting people, like the two Sherwood sisters. They’ve taken in some young women from the women’s center, or older teens at risk, to teach them skills.”
“Good for them.”
“What’s unusual is the sisters teach them construction skills. Those jobs pay better than so many female-heavy jobs. Veronica and Sheila buy houses, restore them, and flip them. They use their own workforce.”
“Anyone that can build or repair stuff will do okay. And have you ever noticed your stove goes out before you have guests for dinner? The furnace heat dies on the coldest night? Never fails.”
“That’s for sure.”
As they slowly drove down the dirt path, rock-hard thanks to a drought, minks scurried into their dens for the night.
“Magnum, don’t get any ideas,” Adrianna instructed her dog.
“He won’t. He already has a fur coat.”
They laughed as they reached the bottom, Adrianna driving to the clubhouse where Sister’s car was parked. She had followed the horse trailer with her new Bronco Sport. She went through a car about every three years, thanks to the hard country, the miles, and the changeable weather.
Getting out, Adrianna hugged Sister. “So glad you could hunt.”
“Me too. Going over the problems of leading helps. I wish Lynn could have gone up the mountain with us. Her mining background had to give her a sharp eye for topography.”
“I forget you taught Geology at Mary Baldwin.”
“Loved it. Speaking of women’s colleges, did you see where Sweet Briar has a new president? Mary Pope Maybach Hutson? She’s the first alumna to hold that spot. Pretty fabulous.”
“Did. You go down there and hunt with Bedford, don’t you?”
“I do. The growth of Sweet Briar after early closing is a testimony to what happens when people put their heads, hearts, and wallets together. We need more of it.”
“We do. In some ways that’s our job.”
Sister opened the door to her SUV. “Is. Trying to keep the land, our country, is our biggest challenge. I used to think it was animal rights groups who accused us of killing foxes while showing footage from England, years old, not from here. I mean, with AI, Adrianna, you can falsify anything. Anyways, it’s development. Even with high mortgages, the banks chickening out, well, that’s my opinion, but I don’t have an answer unless we could create syndicates to buy up raw land, old properties.”
“We’ve made some progress with our landowners. Most everyone is an environmentalist.”
“I can’t say the same.” Sister sighed. “Some are. Some not. Well, let me get back to the farm. I could talk to you all day and almost have.” She laughed.
“Joint meet?”
“You bet. Let me check the calendar.”
With that, Sister drove into the rapidly darkening sky, toward home.
“Honey, I’m home.” Sister opened the door from the mudroom into the kitchen.
A deep voice answered from the back of the house. “About time.”
Her Doberman, Raleigh; the Harrier, Rooster; and the cat, Golly, all greeted her. J. Edgar, the box turtle, stirred in his large living quarters complete with dirt so he could dig if he felt like it.
Gray, her husband, paper in hand, walked into the kitchen, gave her a kiss on the cheek. “How was it?”
“Dry. Got a bit of something, but this Season so far has been a whistling bitch.” She never minded swearing with her husband or best friends.
We hope you are enjoying the book so far. To continue reading...
Please log in to recommend or discuss...
