Read Online The Hunt Ball by Rita Mae Brown - Free Book Online Page A

know. Charlotte would know better than I. Custis Hall is her bailiwick.” She hesitated a moment. “He didn’t get along with Amy Childers—old romance—but we all have a few of those. We don’t usually hang for it.”
    â€œOne hopes.”
    Ben, not a country boy, learned to ride when he came to Jefferson County four years ago. He discovered that riding wasn’t easy, but he enjoyed the challenge. He’d reached the point where he rode with the Hilltoppers. He was working toward riding up with first flight, taking all those exciting jumps.
    He had keen powers of observation, trained powers. He also had a sense of people’s character, having heard every lie known to man, so he particularly valued an honest person. Sister Jane was rock-solid honest. Her powers of observation were also highly trained. She proved a shrewd judge of character, too, where humans were concerned.
    Sister raised her eyes to Al’s darkening face. “Hanging is a definite form of suicide. Anyone who hangs himself truly wants to die, but you’ve seen the stepladder prints, as did I. Al Perez didn’t hang himself. Whoever killed him wants to tie the past to the present, to scare the hell out of all of us. This is the place of public execution.”
    Ty, twenty-nine, in thrall to his work, drank in every word. He’d not thought of that.
    â€œA warning?” Ben thought out loud.
    â€œYes, but to whom? This is just a feeling, but the warning involves the school.”
    â€œWhy do you say that?”
    Sister paused. “If this person only wanted to warn and warn publicly, he could have hung Al somewhere else, or shot him, dumping him in a public place or a well-traveled spot. But it seems you’ve got a fevered imagination at work.”
    Ben felt the cold slice of breeze from the northwest. He reached in his pocket for a small round hard candy. He offered Sister one, then Ty. “In charge of alumnae affairs. Important post. Financially critical.”
    Sister folded her arms over her chest. “I doubt very much Al Perez is an innocent victim.”
    â€œM-m-m.” Ben was thinking the same thing.
    As Sister walked back to her truck, Inky shadowed her. Inky liked Sister. It was mutual.
    Sister put her hand on the door handle, stopped to call back to Ben. “Shrouds have no pockets.”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œShrouds have no pockets. I don’t know why that popped into my mind, except that a lot of money flowed through his hands.”

C H A P T E R   8
    H ounds ate at six-thirty this Sunday to the sound of the power washer cleaning the kennels. The jets of water hit the walls and floors with such force, every speck of debris and dirt was dislodged, swirling into a huge central drain, a big trap underneath it. Shaker cut off the washer.
    Sister, who had slept fitfully, walked into the feeding room. Raleigh and Rooster remained in the kennel office. They got along with the hounds but it wasn’t wise to allow them into the feeding room. They hated being separated from Sister, grumbling whenever they were left.
    Shaker walked back into the feeding room just as Sister did. He took one look at her face. “What’s wrong?”
    â€œAl Perez was hanged last night at Hangman’s Ridge.” She gave him the details as she knew them.
    â€œJesus, there are sickos out there. Why didn’t you call me?”
    â€œYou rarely get time to yourself. I figured after the firehouse party you spent the night out.”
    â€œYep.” He paused. “Gruesome end, gruesome. I liked Al. He was a nice guy.”
    â€œIt wasn’t clear whether he was hung to death or dead before he was hung. I studied the body as best I could under the circumstances. I didn’t smell blood or powder burns. And my nose is pretty good.” She then apologized to her hounds. “For a human my nose is good, but no one is as good as you