The Purrfect Murder

demanded.
    “Of course,” Little Mim agreed.
    “Do you have the other three letters?” Cooper hoped she did.
    “I burned them.” Little Mim held her forehead for a moment. “I’ve been abysmally stupid. I didn’t want Blair to find them.”
    “No phone calls?” Rick pressed.
    “No.”
    “If my daughter has received these letters and the threat is to end her political career, I think we can surmise that other women have received letters, as well. More than likely exposure was promised, too, and for all we know, their lives may be threatened. Prying money out of the unwilling often takes force.”
    “No one has come forward with any complaint,” Rick said.
    Cooper, sensitive to the situation, met Rick’s eyes. “If a woman can keep paying, she might not come forward. There are good reasons not to, as you know.”
    “Well, yes,” Rick agreed.
    “And if Little Mim’s medical past is broadcast in some way, that will do one of two things.” Coop took a breath. “Drive someone out or drive them further in.”
    After more discussion, Rick told Big Mim that he would be visiting Tony Long on site tomorrow and Coop would find Mike. “Have to check out both. If Mike is corrupt, no point waving the red flag at him alone.”
    “Wise.” Big Mim rose and put her arm around Little Mim’s waist for a moment, then dropped it. As the two were turning to leave, Big Mim said, “I think, Rick, that Carla may have received these letters, too.”
    Cooper and Rick remained in his office for a few minutes after the two women left.
    Coop dialed the Barracks Road Shopping Center to check on Box 15, which was in Bechtal’s name. Then she called Love of Life. The lady answering the phone gave their street address. They had no box at the post office, and she was upset that someone had used their name for a P.O. box.
    “Well, what a surprise,” Rick said, without surprise.
    “If they killed Will Wylde, they’ll kill again,” Cooper said flatly.
    “That has crossed my mind. And you can be sure it’s crossed Big Mim’s, as well. Even if her daughter’s political career is smashed, it may be what saves her life.” He sighed. “Let’s go to the post office and check the paperwork for whoever rented Box Fifteen.”
    “So you think there are more letters?”
    “Yep.”
    “Me, too.”
    And there were.
             
    Later that evening, sitting outside in the twilight, Mrs. Murphy, Pewter, and Tucker watched barn swallows dart in for their night’s rest. Next the bats came out, their tiny little cries tantalizing to the other animals. The humans could hear a squeak now and then, but the two cats and dog heard the entire concerto, the dominant key being A—at least, they thought so.
    Harry and Fair leaned over a paddock fence, watching the three fillies and one colt.
    “Time to wean.” Harry never liked that chore; the screaming upset her.
    “Yes, it is. Won’t be long before I’ll need to geld the fellow, too.” He pointed to Venus, huge and bright above the Blue Ridge. “She’s impressive. I like it when Mars is in the sky, too, that pulsating red dot—a dot compared to her, anyway.”
    “They had an affair, remember?”
    “I do. Her husband threw a net over them.” He squeezed her hand. “The myths ring true.”
    “Powerful stories that reveal to us what we are. Maybe that’s why the Christians felt the need to suppress them.”
    “Didn’t work.”
    “No. The truth will out. That’s why I know we can help Tazio.”
    “Honey, everyone will do their best.”
    “We have to help Tazio.”
Mrs. Murphy noticed a small moth zigzag in front of her, then lift straight up.
    “Why?”
Pewter preferred a more sedentary routine than chasing after culprits.
    “For Brinkley.”
The tiger felt such pity for the yellow lab.
    “Oh.”
Pewter couldn’t argue with that.
“But he’s with Paul.”
    “Not the same,”
Tucker responded.
“And he knows what’s going on. He’s got to be wretched. Mrs. Murphy is right. We have to help Tazio.”
    “What do we do?”
Pewter hoped it wouldn’t require too much physical exertion.
    She didn’t mind some exertion, but she preferred it in short bursts, like when she tried to grab the blue jay.
    “We go everywhere that Mom goes. We shoot into her truck before she even picks up her purse.”
Mrs. Murphy smiled.
“I can always sense when she’s fixing to leave.”
    “We all can do that,”
Pewter snidely replied.
    “Everywhere she goes, if there’s