expenses thinking that everyone should suffer in silence. He claimed to be keeping track of the expenses and the twins would have to pay up when they became adults.
So there Levi was on the box stall floor among the horse turds deader than a doornail, as they say. The county coroner said it was a clear case of poisoning with traces of cyanide in the half gallon of vodka which he had barely started before the poison took effect. Monica looked down at him without pity thinking that the horse was the only one who liked Levi. His wife certainly didn’t.
Naturally with three down recently paranoia arose in the family at large. Two dead had dug quite a hole in the daily familiarity and no one had taken over all the work Tom had done with the cattle. This was a danger to the general livelihood. No one was totally above suspicion except each to themselves. The idea of a second family murder got the state police interested without results. Some in the family suspected that one of the wives was guilty and they were treated even worse than usual. There was something feminine about poisoning compared to a club or gun.
Sunderson spent a long time thinking about the crime and came up with John for no solid reason other than he was the most decent of the males, a sort of reverse logic wherein the most unlikely seems most likely. Others thought of Levi’s widow Sara who seemed to hate everything and everybody to do with the Ames family. Having been deprived of sexuality by her drunken husband she had an open affair with Tom when he was still in his teens. Levi never noticed. Tom screwed Sara and moved on to raping Lily, but the rape alone was worth his eventual execution not to speak of Lily’s murder. Sad that someone can’t be executed twice.
He fished farther downstream than ever before, well into the Ames property. Their water wasn’t as fine as his own, being too straight and monochromatic to be good trout habitat, though he caught a couple of good browns in deep pools. The ancient ancestor of the owner he’d bought from had picked the best water but then he was first by five decades. Sunderson was just getting out of the water to walk back home when something unbelievable caught his eye. Lodged in a small jam faceup was the body of one of Bert’s twins, a big vigorous boy in his teens, so freshly drowned that he looked like he could be alive. Sunderson did a quick furtive examination rolling the boy over because his eyes were open. As a longtime detective Sunderson knew it was his responsibility to report the death but he wasn’t up to it. Suddenly he was cold and walked the two miles home shivering ignoring a playful rifle shot that hit near his feet. When he got home Monica was there with a batch of good chili. He was paying extra for meals but loved the lack of bother. When tired from fishing you didn’t want to spend an hour at the stove. He didn’t want to but told Monica about the body of her younger brother. She winced but didn’t seem to care. “Half brother. He was a horrible person. Dad made him that way,” she said, “and that crazy woman he took up with after Mom. I’ll tell the others.” Sunderson gave her exact directions and let her use his phone. He was relieved to have it in another’s hands but nonetheless feeling a little shabby as an ex–police officer. He hadn’t seen any marks on the body but if it was poison again there wouldn’t be external marks. He jumped the gun on dinner and had a small bowl of chili, then made love to Monica who was already on the bed. It seemed as ordinary as going to the grocery store though she held him more strongly than usual. The question was how do you make love to a girl after you announce you have found her dead brother in the river? But after she slipped off her jeans and sweater would it have been more hurtful to refuse? He walked a couple of miles with her on the way home. A rifle bullet hit a tree they passed. She said, “That’s Teddy. He doesn’t
So there Levi was on the box stall floor among the horse turds deader than a doornail, as they say. The county coroner said it was a clear case of poisoning with traces of cyanide in the half gallon of vodka which he had barely started before the poison took effect. Monica looked down at him without pity thinking that the horse was the only one who liked Levi. His wife certainly didn’t.
Naturally with three down recently paranoia arose in the family at large. Two dead had dug quite a hole in the daily familiarity and no one had taken over all the work Tom had done with the cattle. This was a danger to the general livelihood. No one was totally above suspicion except each to themselves. The idea of a second family murder got the state police interested without results. Some in the family suspected that one of the wives was guilty and they were treated even worse than usual. There was something feminine about poisoning compared to a club or gun.
Sunderson spent a long time thinking about the crime and came up with John for no solid reason other than he was the most decent of the males, a sort of reverse logic wherein the most unlikely seems most likely. Others thought of Levi’s widow Sara who seemed to hate everything and everybody to do with the Ames family. Having been deprived of sexuality by her drunken husband she had an open affair with Tom when he was still in his teens. Levi never noticed. Tom screwed Sara and moved on to raping Lily, but the rape alone was worth his eventual execution not to speak of Lily’s murder. Sad that someone can’t be executed twice.
He fished farther downstream than ever before, well into the Ames property. Their water wasn’t as fine as his own, being too straight and monochromatic to be good trout habitat, though he caught a couple of good browns in deep pools. The ancient ancestor of the owner he’d bought from had picked the best water but then he was first by five decades. Sunderson was just getting out of the water to walk back home when something unbelievable caught his eye. Lodged in a small jam faceup was the body of one of Bert’s twins, a big vigorous boy in his teens, so freshly drowned that he looked like he could be alive. Sunderson did a quick furtive examination rolling the boy over because his eyes were open. As a longtime detective Sunderson knew it was his responsibility to report the death but he wasn’t up to it. Suddenly he was cold and walked the two miles home shivering ignoring a playful rifle shot that hit near his feet. When he got home Monica was there with a batch of good chili. He was paying extra for meals but loved the lack of bother. When tired from fishing you didn’t want to spend an hour at the stove. He didn’t want to but told Monica about the body of her younger brother. She winced but didn’t seem to care. “Half brother. He was a horrible person. Dad made him that way,” she said, “and that crazy woman he took up with after Mom. I’ll tell the others.” Sunderson gave her exact directions and let her use his phone. He was relieved to have it in another’s hands but nonetheless feeling a little shabby as an ex–police officer. He hadn’t seen any marks on the body but if it was poison again there wouldn’t be external marks. He jumped the gun on dinner and had a small bowl of chili, then made love to Monica who was already on the bed. It seemed as ordinary as going to the grocery store though she held him more strongly than usual. The question was how do you make love to a girl after you announce you have found her dead brother in the river? But after she slipped off her jeans and sweater would it have been more hurtful to refuse? He walked a couple of miles with her on the way home. A rifle bullet hit a tree they passed. She said, “That’s Teddy. He doesn’t
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