Chapter 10: A Pleasant Outing

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#10 of The Murderess of Maplesburg: Disappearing like Rabbits

When Ellie and Jason, private detectives, are asked to find a missing teenage rabbit, they soon become embroiled in a string of grizzly murders. Will they be able to navigate the barriers erected by the hostile police chief and catch the murderess before she strikes again?


Chapter 10: A Pleasant Outing

Rita awoke to the sweet scent of crepes mixed with the rich aroma of coffee. She yawned and stretched her arms before pushing herself up against the ornately carved headboard of the large bed. She ran her hand over the familiar relief of rose vines carved into the dark walnut and pushed the thick down comforter out of her lap. The pale pink of the embroidered blanket was complemented by the thick maroon carpet and periwinkle blue walls of the bedroom. Boots set the legged silver tray across her lap then adjusted one of the fluffy pink pillows behind her back.

He bowed low, still towering above the high bed, "Is there anything else you need, Mistress?"

Rita motioned toward the radio on the dresser at the far end of the room, "Turn the radio to the morning news, won't you, Bootsy?"

Boots promptly did as requested.

"Anything else, Mistress?"

"That'll be all, Boots."

Boots bowed again before exiting the bedroom. Rita listened to him clomp away through

the house. She picked up her fork and knife and sliced a piece off of the first crepe. She listened to the news as she enjoyed the sweet and savory flavors of the eggy pastry and blueberry preserves. The weather forecast promised less oppressive heat and humidity today with light wind up to ten miles per hour.

"And now I have an update on a very disturbing story," the newscaster announced. "Parents are advised to take children out of the room."

Rita's ears pricked. She waited expectantly as the newscaster paused.

"Police are still seeking information in connection with the death of Daniel Planter, which we reported last week. The young rabbit was discovered Wednesday last week in a wood by West Coriander Parkway and South 57th Street after going missing Monday evening. Police reported that he had been the victim of a vicious attack. Anyone with information related to this crime are encouraged to contact police at-"

Rita tuned out the rest of the broadcast. Why were the reports always so lacking indetails? No description of the state of the body upon discovery or the wounds that had been inflicted. 'A vicious attack.' He might as well have been stabbed by a mugger. Rita gave two sharp claps.

"Bootsy!"

Her call was quickly followed by the echoes of heavy clomping steps as Boots hurried back to the bedroom.

"Yes, Mistress?" he asked breathlessly as he entered the room.

"Fetch the television for me please, Bootsy. I want to see whether that cringing pussycat Ferdie has anything more to say about our former guest."

"Of course, Mistress. I'll fetch it at once."

He swung around to leave.

"One more thing, Bootsy," Rita added, halting him. "Take it easy. You don't need to run

yourself ragged. I can wait a few minutes."

Boots bowed, "Thank you, Mistress."

He left, and Rita listened to his footsteps: they sounded at least a little slower than

before. She smirked and shook her head. Boots could be a little overzealous at times. A few minutes later, he returned with the tv. Setting it on the dresser, he switched off the radio and turned the tv to channel 5.

The plump black and white cat was rambling about some proposed construction project in East downtown. Rita tuned him out while she mixed cream and three lumps of sugar into her coffee. She sipped the heavily sweetened beverage before turning her attention back to the

television.

"It seems we have an update on last week's murder," the plump, long-haired black and

white cat announced in his usual peevish tone. "We've managed to get a copy of the coroner's report."

Rita snapped to attention, gazing at the screen eagerly.

Ferdie seemed to scan the paper in front of him briefly. His sour features twisted into an expression of disgust.

"Oh Zeus, do you really want me to read this?" he asked someone off screen.

He grimaced at their apparent affirmative answer before continuing, "The coroner reports that the rabbit had been dismembered and his liver and one kidney had been removed. Some of the wounds had been stitched back up as if the murderer were using him to practice surgery or, or trying to keep him alive longer," his voice trailed off at the end, and his face was a mask of appalled disgust. He pushed the paper away and looked back up into the camera.

"One can only hope whoever did this is quickly brought to justice," he managed. Rita grinned widely, "Working hard to earn those views, hmm, Ferdie."

She was immensely satisfied by the description and especially by the pathetic cat's

obvious distress. The station went to a commercial, and Rita switched off the tv with the remote that Boots had quietly placed beside her before leaving the room. She finished her breakfast in peace and dabbed her mouth with the lacy white napkin before clapping again for Boots. Once Boots had taken away the tray, she pushed the blankets the rest of the way down and hopped out of bed. She slipped into a light, sleeveless, pale blue dress and trotted down to the kitchen, which still smelled of crepes and hot vegetable oil.

"Good morning, Your Grace. How can I help you?" the head chef, an overweight stoat, asked as she entered.

"Good morning, Gustav. I've decided to take a bit of a ramble today. Please prepare a picnic lunch and bring it to the entryway."

"Of course, Your Grace," he answered with a small bow.

Rita skipped out of the kitchen and back up to her bedroom to select a hat. Boots was busy making her bed.

"Ah, there you are, Bootsy. Tell Wolfgang and Johann to meet me by the front entrance shortly."

She stepped into her walk-in closet and surveyed her hats. She selected a wide- brimmed, tan straw hat with a black ribbon and large bow. She adjusted it on her head, pulling her ears through the side openings. Boots was gone by the time she exited the closet.

Rita headed back down the curving marble staircase to wait in the high-ceilinged entryway at the bottom. Like the stairs, the floor of the entryway was composed of blocks of gray marble, and the room was illuminated by an iron chandelier with tulip-shaped glass fixtures surrounding the candelabra bulbs. The heavy oak door of the entrance was trimmed with polished silver. Corridors on either side of the staircase led to the sitting room and the kitchen, respectively. Rita tapped her right foot against the cool, smooth floor, extending her claws to click them gently against the stone, as she waited. After a few minutes, Wolfgang and Johann hurried in from the right corridor and each gave a small bow. Both of them were wearing a jacket and black bow tie; Wolfgang's jacket was dark gray, and Johann's was dark blue. Both wolverines had typical brown and black fur, but Wolfgang's head was entirely black while Johann's black snout and dark eyes were ringed with brown. Wolfgang was also the slightly larger of the two though both of them were at least fifty-percent again of Rita's height and over twice her weight.

"Good morning, Your Grace," Wolfgang greeted.

"Good morning, Wolfie," Rita chirped. "I've decided to take a walk around the estate this morning. Once Gustav brings the picnic basket, we'll be off."

"Excellent idea, Your Grace. It's a lovely day for it. I assume you'll be needing the car,

yes?"

"Correct, Wolfie."

Johann stepped forward, "I'll bring it around front, Your Grace."

Rita nodded, and he hurried out the front door. The door shut behind him with a soft thud that reverberated through the house. After a few minutes, Gustav arrived, carrying the large wicker basket in both hands. He set it down with a sigh of relief.

"There you are, Your Grace. I hope everything is to your satisfaction."

Rita smiled amiably, "I'm sure it will be. Thank you, Gustav."

The stoat bowed slightly before hurrying back down the left corridor. Wolfgang lifted the

basket with ease and opened the door for Rita. She stepped out into the warm, sunny yard and took a deep breath of the fresh air, which was sweetened by a patch of tiger lilies planted nearby in the front garden. Shortly, Johann drove the black sedan around the house and stopped at the front of the driveway. Rita climbed in behind him, and Wolfgang set the basket on the other side before climbing into the front passenger's seat.

The main yard was surrounded by a thick wood with many large oaks, maples, beaches, walnuts, and gums. Beyond the wood, rolling hills of meadow stretched to the edge of the large estate. When they had neared the far side of the wood, Rita signaled for Johann to stop, and he pulled to the side of the paved private road. She hopped out of the car and strolled into the woods with the wolverines following close behind, Wolfgang carrying the basket.

The floor of the wood was crisscrossed with unpaved paths and roads from the residents Rita allowed to live on the estate. The smell of vibrant green growth was mixed with the occasional cooking fire from the rustic homes dug under or built up in the majestic old trees. The houses were far fewer than they would have been in past centuries since most people eschewed the rustic life for the conveniences of towns and cities. Rita responded warmly to the respectful greetings of those they passed as she and her bodyguards strolled through the woods. At length, they reached the edge of the shady woods and started through the sunny meadow of long grass and fragrant wildflowers. The occasional sprawling tree reached up from the meadow, and as Rita began to feel a bit tired of walking, she directed their walk towards a large sugar maple atop one of the nearby hills.

Reaching the top of the hill, Rita was pleased to find a family of six house mice with white blanket and food already spread out on the shorter grass under the tree. They were all dressed in t-shirts. Rita gave the diminutive folks, the largest of which probably only stood as tall as the top of her ankle with ears included, her best friendly smile.

"Greetings, lovely day for a picnic, isn't it? Do you mind if we set ours out here next to you?"

The largest mouse, who was presumably the father and was wearing a blue ball cap in addition to a white t-shirt, responded cheerfully, "Not at all. It's always a pleasant surprise to meet another group out enjoying the countryside."

Rita nodded, "Quite a pleasant surprise indeed. I'm Rita, and these are Wolfgang and Johann," she stated, gesturing to the wolverines. "They're not the most chatty, I'm afraid."

"A pleasure to meet you. I'm Jacob. This is my wife Diane and our children Suzie, Timothy, Josh, and Nicole."

"The pleasure is all mine," she responded with a wink.

Wolfgang and Johann set out the food, plates, cups, and utensils on the blue and white checkered tablecloth, and Rita sat on the edge closest to the mice. Gustav had prepared both chicken salad and cold brisket sandwiches as well as packing large slices of white cheddar and gorgonzola, jars of pickles and of green olives, a carton of strawberries, and bottles of water and of chardonnay wine. Rita selected one of the chicken salad sandwiches, sliced off a piece of the gorgonzola, and poured herself a small amount of the wine and a large cup of the iced water. She took a large gulp of the refreshing water before biting into the tangy sandwich and then sampling some of the sharp cheese and wine. She noticed the young mice's noses twitching

and their eyes following the gorgonzola as she set it back on her plate.

She smiled at the children warmly, "It looks like you'd like to sample some of our

cheese."

"Oh no, don't let us take away your lunch," the father protested. "We have plenty of our

own."

Rita waved her hand dismissively, "Think nothing of it. We've plenty, and I insist you try

some." She cut off generous chunks of both the cheddar and gorgonzola and leaned over to place them in front of the mice. "Dig in."

She watched in amusement as the mice devoured the chunks of cheese, making short work of them.

"I want more!" squeaked one of the smaller two.

"Hush, Tim," his mother chided. "Don't be rude."

"Not at all!" Rita chirped.

She leaned over and scooped up the tiny mouse, who squeaked in surprise as he was

swept high above the ground. He fit comfortably in Rita's palm, no bigger than one of the larger olives. And probably just as easy to crush. Rita's smile widened as she contemplated the sensation of squeezing the life out of the tiny body. The mouse shivered as he peered over the edge of her hand.

"There, there, little one," Rita soothed, stroking him with one finger. "Let me get you more cheese. Which did you prefer?"

"The cheddar," he squeaked in reply.

Rita sliced off another small chunk of the cheddar and handed it to him. He took it in both of his minuscule hands and began to eat it greedily, apparently forgetting about his fear of the height. When he had finished eating, Rita placed him back with his family. She thought his mother looked particularly relieved.

"Simply adorable," Rita stated. "In fact, a very charming family all together. I'd be delighted if you'd visit Belmont Manor for dinner some evening."

The parents' eyes widened at the offer.

"Belmont Manor?" asked the father. "Then that means you're-"

"The Duchess, yes."

The mother and father exchanged a mortified glance before the father began hurriedly,

"We're sorry, Y-Your Grace. We didn't recognize-"

"If I were concerned about it, I would have introduced myself as such," Rita interrupted.

"But what do you say to my invitation? Will you give me the pleasure of your visit?"

He shrugged apologetically, "I'm sorry, Your Grace. I'm not sure when we would be able.

You see, we're just visiting the area, and we have to head home early tomorrow morning to get back to work."

"Oh dear, well, then you must come this evening. It's a bit impromptu, but I'm sure my chef will be able to fix something for the occasion."

The father blinked, "I suppose we should be ab-"

His wife grabbed his arm and whispered in his ear, casting a nervous glance at Rita. When she had finished whispering, he turned to smile uncomfortably at Rita.

"Diane just reminded me that we actually have to leave this afternoon. Her, uh, mother is visiting this evening, and we need to hurry home before she gets there."

Rita shook her head putting on a look of supreme disappointment, "I understand. One can't leave one's family high and dry just to have dinner with someone one just met. However, I insist that you allow us to escort you back to wherever you're staying. Why, you're so small anything might happen to you. I wouldn't feel comfortable not knowing whether you'd made it back safely."

The father shook his head, seeming a bit confused by her sudden concern for their safety, "There's, there's really nothing for you to worry about. We've been hiking around the

area for the past few days without incident."

"That hardly proves that you'll be alright this time. Say some much larger person came

along and, and stuffed you in a pickle jar," Rita argued, picking up the jar, which was half full of juice with a single pickle left. "Then they might just seal you inside and wait for the air to run out. And after that, they'd find some rock to bury you under, and no one would ever know what had happened to you."

He laughed nervously, "Aheh, you certainly have a vivid imagination, Your Grace, but I assure you that we'll be fine."

"I see I'm going to have to do more to convince you," Rita replied. She opened the jar and took out the last pickle, taking a small bite before handing the rest to Wolfgang. "Finish this please, Wolfie."

The wolverine dutifully began munching the pickle as Rita turned back to the mice.

"I see I'll have to give you a little demonstration."

Rita leaned over quickly and snatched up the smallest two mice by the tails, causing all

six to squeak in surprise.

"First, they'd catch your two smallest children knowing you won't run away and leave

them."

She dropped the two mice into the pickle juice. They squealed as they fell and then

splashed into the jar and began thrashing around trying to keep their heads above the pungent liquid.

"Then, of course, you won't be able to risk fighting back when they shove the two of you in for fear of the little ones drowning."

She grabbed the parents by their tails, pushed them into the tall jar, and quickly screwed the lid on. They each landed with a splash but quickly recovered to lift the children above the juice. The father was standing up to his shoulders in the chartreuse fluid, and the mother was up to her neck. Out of the corner of her eye, Rita saw the other two mice beginning to creep away.

"Then your older children might attempt to run away, but they'd really have no chance."

Rita stood and quickly stepped on the tail of one mouse before reaching down to snatch the last mouse as she tried to run. Holding them both by the tail in her left hand, Rita returned to the jar, quickly opened it, threw them down on top of the other mice, and closed the jar again. The mice in the jar scrambled in confusion as they were bombarded with the final two and were thus much too late to make an attempt at escape before the jar was resealed. The older children clung to their parents who still held the smaller children. They all stared at Rita fearfully through the curved glass. The father knocked on the glass and tried to address her. Rita lifted the jar to her left ear to hear his muffled squeaks.

"We see your point. Please let us out of here, and we'll be grateful for your escort back to the cabin."

Rita nodded, "I'm glad I convinced you," she called back. "But now, I really must insist that you come back to the manor to wash off and have dinner." She handed the jar to Wolfgang. "Punch a few holes in the lid for our guests, won't you, Wolfie?"

After he had jabbed three holes in the lid with a paring knife, during which the mice crouched fearfully, he handed the jar back to Rita. She gave the jar a little swirl, grinning as the mice slipped and fell into the liquid and then had to scramble to get back up. She lifted the jar to her face to address them again.

"I promise we'll have a terrific time together. And I shouldn't worry about missing work; I'm sure they'll find replacements."

Once Wolfgang and Johann had packed everything else, including the mice's things, into the basket, Rita added the jar of terrified mice, and covered it with the tablecloth to muffle any cries. Then they headed back through the sunny meadow and between the majestic trees to the car. As Rita sat in the back by the basket on the ride home, she gave it a satisfied pat; this certainly had been a pleasant outing.