The Purrfect Murder

it’s going to cool down.”
    “You have your mother’s fabulous coat.”
    “I do. I wish I had my mother’s fabulous style.”
    “I like your style: fresh and natural.”
    She looked at him. “You must want hot sex tonight.”
    He leaned back. “Harry, whenever I’m with you the thought is uppermost in my mind.”
    “Do you think men think about sex more than women or do you think it’s cultural? You know what I mean.” Harry wasn’t always the most articulate soul.
    “We’ll never know what’s cultural and what’s biological, because science is always in service to power. Even veterinary medicine. What do I personally think after forty-two years of observation? That men think about sex more than women do. However, I don’t think women are that far behind. They display it more discreetly, if they display their thoughts at all.”
    “That’s what I think.”
    “Then why did you ask?”
    “Because I’m bored sitting in this line and I’m already crabby about being in this gown. I feel like a drag queen, even if I am a woman.”
    “A lady. You’re an elegant Virginia lady of black-type bloodlines.”
    “Honey, if you said that to someone who wasn’t a horseman, they’d think you were talking about race.”
    “Guess they would.”
    Black type in a Thoroughbred pedigree meant the animal had won Grade I races. Obviously, this was highly desired.
    “I admire Tazio’s outlook,” Harry said. “Being half African-American, half Italian certainly provided her with insight, not just into race but into culture, people’s petty prejudices, you name it. You know, I have never heard her once utter a remark about race, pro or con.”
    “You can bet she heard about it in school.”
    “Well, her parents sent her to the most expensive girls’ prep in St. Louis.”
    “Doesn’t mean she didn’t brush up against ugly remarks. If anything, rich kids can be even more snide than poor ones.”
    “I don’t know about that. Small little minds looking for something to hold against someone else bite you sooner or later.”
    “Luckily for her she is beautiful.”
    “She really is, and that’s another thing I admire about her: she doesn’t use it. Some women can use it like a whip against men and women.”
    “I know.” He smiled ruefully. “Lately, though, Tazio has looked drawn.”
    “Carla and Mike. She’s worried about offending Big Mim, too, over this ball.”
    He cleared his throat, moved forward a bit. “The whole situation with Little Mim is pretty ridiculous. It’s not Tazio’s fault. And, remember, let us always remember, it was Big Mim who suggested—no, insisted—that Folly chair the fund-raiser.”
    “I know and you know that, but it’s still going to be sticky with Little Mim and Blair at Folly’s table.” She sighed. “At least Tazio and Paul will be at ours.”
    “There’s a reason I work with horses and not people.”
    “I hear you.” She laughed. “Have I told you how handsome you look?”
    “You’re trying to soften me up for sex tonight, aren’t you?” He paused. “Soften is the wrong word.”
    “I never worry about you.” She smacked his arm. “God, this is taking forever.”
    “Look at it this way, the ball is already a success.”
    “Tell that to my bladder.”
    “Mine, too.”
    Another fifteen minutes, amid lights flashing on sheriff vehicles, and the Haristeens had parked.
    Harry, holding on to Fair’s arm as would a proper lady from the early nineteenth century, whispered, “There’s got to be Porta-Johns somewhere.”
    Since Fair was so tall, he looked around. “Over there. A whole row, before we even are escorted to the festivities.”
    They made a beeline—not easy, since Harry was in low heels. Her long dress covered up that she wasn’t tottering in high heels.
    Each hurried into adjoining johns.
    She heard him laughing.
    “What are you laughing at? I can hear you!”
    “I’m not telling.”
    He emerged first, of course, and waited dutifully. Finally, a red-faced Harry came out, the metal and plastic door reverberating behind her.
    A line had already formed for the johns, so she kept her voice low as they walked away. “What’s so funny?”
    “I was imagining you trying to balance yourself, hold up all the voluminous material, pull your panties down, and then go. Whew.”
    She laughed so hard she had to stop. “At least you appreciate the problem. One of these days, I’ll dress you up and you can really learn what we go through