The Big Cat Nap

thought. “Obviously, the deal is void. That’s in the contract.”
    Removing his hands from behind his head, he picked up a folder, a bright lime green, and slid it across to Harry.
    She rose, picked it up, placed it in her lap as she sat down. “Beautiful folder.”
    He beamed. “I have a weakness for office supplies. If I hadn’t become a grocer, I’d have opened an office-supply store, a high-end one.” He sat up straight. “You know, there’s a woman in Richmond who prints on a hand press, invitations and the like. The more our economy shifts to the big box stores, the more room there is for quality and individuality.”
    “Yes, I think so, too. I’ll read this thoroughly.”
    “Well, if you decide to sign on, I’ll come out three times before harvest to inspect your crops. Heard you had a banner year with the sunflowers last year.”
    “I sure did. And this is the first year I can harvest my grapes. It really will take another four years or so before they’ll be as they should.”
    “You were prudent to only put in a quarter acre, if for no other reason than to see how the soil affects the taste. Every vineyard, even if only two miles apart, creates its own
terroir
.”
    “Fascinating. Thank you for the compliment, but I know I can’t become a big vintner. I’m learning so much with the help of others, but I think my real drive is toward the sunflowers, the ginseng. I’m also growing asparagus, though it won’t be ready until next year.”
    “You staggered the planting, of course.” He leaned forward, brown eyes bright.
    “Had to. You can only pick edible asparagus every other year. That’s one of the reasons it costs more.”
    “I’m interested in that, Harry. I can’t keep fresh asparagus on the shelves. Doesn’t matter if it’s the type most people know around here or the large white ones, the European varieties.”
    She stood up. “Thank you for seeing me.”
    “My pleasure.”
    She left, took two steps from the office as she closed the door behind her, and ran smack into Franny Howard, owner of a large tire store.
    “Harry, I’m so sorry.” Franny’s hand flew to her lips, pink with color.
    Harry laughed. “Hey, I’m just glad you weren’t behind the wheel of your car.”
    “I do a little better there. Not so many distractions. Isn’t your checkup next Wednesday?”
    “Is.”
    “Want me to go with you?” Franny had also survived cancer, before Harry was diagnosed.
    Franny had brought Harry into the cancer support group.
    “Oh, thanks, Franny. I know I’m going to be fine.”
    “Yes, you will. Say, I read in the papers where you, Reverend Jones, and Susan found that body at ReNu Auto Works. Must have been a shock.”
    “Was. No suspects yet. The guy seems to have led a quiet life.”
    “Those are the tough ones. You peel away the layers. There’s always something bubbling at the center, I swear. ReNu undercuts everyone’s prices. I guess if the killer were one of their competitors, they’d have brained Vic Gatzembizi instead.” She named the owner.
    “Have to catch him. He’s on the move between his shops. People like you and Vic have so much ambition.” Harry’s lips curled upward, a wry half smile.
    “Thank you.” Franny nodded. “Victor, you know, just in passing recommends people to me who are looking for new tires. Obviously vehicles in his shop for repair will have to use what the insurance company will pay for. But Victor is good to me, steering—shall we say—non-smacked-up customers?” She lowered her voice. “Hear he’s got ladies in all his shop sites. Bet his wife would kill him if she knew. On the other hand, he gives her everything. Whatever she’s doing, I need to learn. Need to develop those skills.”
    “Honey, I think you have skill enough in that department.” Harry laughed.

    On the way home, with Mrs. Murphy, Pewter, and Tucker all crammed in the front seat, Harry laughed again at Franny. Thinking about cars and tires reminded her she needed to check in with Miranda and that she’d promised to wax Miranda’s Falcon. Given the backlog at ReNu, Miranda would need a loaner. Safe & Sound should supply her with one, but just in case, Harry would offer her the station wagon.
    Harry drove onto the bypass as she headed for Route 250 west. Taking the bypass, she’d avoid a lot of local traffic.
    That plan came to a halt, literally. Flashing lights, policemen, and firemen stopped the flow of cars, trucks, delivery trucks. The