Chapter 14: Timothy and Suzie

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#14 of The Murderess of Maplesburg: Disappearing like Rabbits

In this chapter, the serial killer vixen baby-sits some little mice, and an annoying tod visits to aggravate her.


Chapter 14: Timothy and Suzie

Around four in the afternoon, Rita went to check on the mice and found they had awoken

from their nap. She carried them back down to the conservatory and set them on top of the

grand piano. She retrieved a booklet of J.S. Bach's sheet music for keyboard and flipped to the

English Suite No. 3.

"I thought I'd play piano for you," she explained.

She briefly studied the first few lines of music and then began to play. Rita hadn't played

the piece in quite some time, so it was far from a stellar performance. However, the mice didn't

seem to notice, probably having never heard the piece before, and leapt up to clap their tiny

hands together when she had finished. Rita beamed; it was nice to have such an enthusiastic

audience. She heard a deeper slow clap start up behind her and turned to see Howard sitting at

the card table. She had been too absorbed in playing to notice him come in.

"Howard, did you get the outfits?" she inquired.

The ferret nodded curtly.

"Let's see them. Bring them over."

The ferret got up and tromped grumpily over to the piano. He gave the mice a sour look

as he placed the small articles of clothing beside them. For Timothy, there was a dark blue

jacket and tie with a white dress shirt, and for Suzie, there was a full-length lavender dress with

short sleeves and several layers of ruffles at the bottom.

Rita nodded, satisfied, "Very good." She turned to the mice. "These are your clothes for

meeting Count Dubois tomorrow," she explained.

"It's so pretty!" Suzie squeaked excitedly. She smiled up at Howard. "Thank you, Mr.

Howard."

The ferret looked at her coldly. His behavior was beginning to annoy Rita. Whether or

not he liked her decisions was irrelevant; he should accept them and behave accordingly.

"You can play piano, can't you, Howard?"

"Yes," he answered tersely.

"Why don't you play some Mozart for us then? How about the Piano Sonata Number

Sixteen?"

Howard replaced the booklet of Bach's sheet music and retrieved the relevant booklet of

Mozart's. He flipped to the piece, sat down at the piano, and began to play. Rita lifted the mice,

one per hand, and began to gently twirl them about the room to the music, her long, bushy tail

sweeping out behind her. The mice grinned gleefully and occasionally let out a squeak of

excitement as they sailed around the room in Rita's hands.

Rita found their joy at the simple pleasure dancing to be infectious and was soon also

grinning at the lighthearted fun. She was feeling so jovial in fact that, when she noticed Edgar

peering furtively around the door to the living room, she waved for the pine marten to join her.

She transferred the mice to her shoulders as he slunk nervously across the room. Then she

stepped forward and took his left hand in her right while placing her left hand on his shoulder.

However, he seemed reluctant to place his right hand on her waist, so she seized it in her left

hand and pressed it against her side. She looked down at the pine marten, whose head only

came to her shoulder.

"Like this, Edgar," she instructed.

He nodded, still looking nervous.

She returned her left hand to his right shoulder. "I'll lead."

They began to dance around the room. Edgar's short legs made it a bit awkward, but

Rita was in too good a mood to care. Suzie and Timothy continued to rejoice at the fun, and

even the gloomy Edgar seemed to catch a bit of their enthusiasm, smiling slightly. At length,

Howard finished the piece. Rita stopped dancing and mimed a curtsy to Edgar. He bowed low

before scurrying out of the room. Rita smirked after him. She turned to Howard who was looking

at her grumpily with arms crossed.

Rita frowned. "That's enough, Howard. You're free to go sulk about the impropriety of it

all by yourself."

He tromped out of the room. Rita lifted Suzie and Timothy back off of her shoulders.

"Let's put away your new clothes then wash up for dinner."

Rita collected the mice's clothes and carried them and Timothy and Suzie up to their

bedroom to put the clothes away. Afterward, she took the mice to the bathroom and filled the

bottom of the sink with warm water, so Timothy and Suzie could take a bath. Rita watched

amusedly as the mice splashed around in the sink. When they were done playing, she put a

drop of lilac-scented shampoo on top of each of them so that they could lather up, and she

finished their bath by turning the faucet on at a trickle to allow them to rinse in the stream of

water. She then lifted the mice from the sink and retrieved a towel from the bathroom cabinet,

placing it and the mice on the floor, so they could dry off whilst she washed her own hands.

Once they were all clean and dry, Rita took the mice to the dining room.

At dinner, Gustav had prepared macaroni and cheddar cheese along with pea soup for

the mice and, for Rita, had also prepared a baked chicken fillet seasoned with a mixture of

mayonnaise and thyme. Rita sat Suzie on her left and Timothy on her right at one end of the

long table. Once they had finished eating, Rita took the mice to the living room and set them on

the dark cream carpet while she went to the conservatory to dig one of her childhood board

games out of the bottom of the bookshelf.

The game was called Hunt: it was a fairly simple board with a ring of fifty white spaces

and red, blue, green, yellow, and magenta safe zones or burrows spaced evenly around the

ring. In the center, there was a black circle with the depiction of a rabbit's skull. The black circle

or den attached to the white ring at the same five points as the colored burrows. The game

accommodated up to six players with five rabbits starting in the burrows and one fox starting in

the den. The roll of a single die determined the clockwise movement of the players around the

ring. The object of the game for the rabbits was to circle the board and land exactly back in front

of their burrow; overshooting meant they had to circle the board again. The first rabbit to return

to its burrow won the game. The object of the fox was to land exactly on top of the rabbits thus

catching them. Being caught once sent the rabbit back to their burrow where they had to start

over, and being caught a second time sent the rabbit to the den where they were devoured. The

fox won if they collected all of the rabbits in their den. The rabbits could leave their dens with

any roll, a roll of one placing them on the space just outside. The first roll of the fox determined

where on the board they began with 1, 2, 3, 4, and 5 corresponding to the entry points of the

red, blue, green, yellow, and magenta burrows, respectively, and a roll of six allowing the fox to

enter at any space, even on top of a rabbit. If a rabbit landed on top of another rabbit, they

moved forward one space, and if they landed on the fox, they had the option of moving one

space forward or returning to their burrow to start over. Finally, if the fox landed on one of the

entry spaces, they had the option of returning to the den to exit again with the next roll.

Rita blew the dust off of the box and took it back to the living room, setting it on the

carpet next to Timothy and Suzie before sitting down on the floor herself. After Rita explained

the rules to the mice, she picked up the fox piece, which was a metal statuette of a fox with her

teeth bared and her arms reaching out to grab her prey.

"I'm the fox, of course," she stated, placing the piece in the black circle. "What colors do

you two want to be?"

"Green!" piped Suzie.

"No fair! I wanted green!" Timothy protested.

"You can be green next time," Rita promised. "Why don't you take red this time?" The

board was big enough for the mice to act as their own pieces, so Rita placed the two of them in

their respective burrows. "Red goes first, and the fox goes last," Rita explained. "I'll roll the die

for you since it will be too heavy for you to roll well." She rolled a five for Timothy and a one for

Suzie.

Timothy strutted around the board confidently. "I'm going to catch you!" he gloated to

Suzie as she stepped out of her burrow.

Rita rolled a six. She smirked. "Oh dear, it looks like I get to catch one of you bunnies. I

supposed I would be prudent to catch the bunny that's furthest along."

She reached for Timothy, and his eyes went wide. He started to dash away, and she

quickly snatched him up.

"Now, now, running away isn't part of the rules," she chided. "Back to your burrow,

bunny." She placed him back in the red burrow and placed her piece on the spot where he had

been.

They continued to play. Rita caught Suzie when she was approximately halfway around

the board and then was able to return to the den when she landed at the red entry point.

Subsequently rolling a two placed her behind both mice.

"Next time I catch you, I get to gobble you up," Rita teased.

Timothy and Suzie looked worriedly at the fierce fox statuette behind them. Catching the

mice a second time proved to be more difficult than the first time. At first, Rita was unable to

catch up with the mice, but after returning to her den and rolling a five, she was able to place

her piece between them. She narrowly overshot Timothy, and then a roll of six placed him within

a roll of his burrow.

"I'm going to win!" he squeaked excitedly.

"Don't forget you need an exact roll," Rita reminded him.

On his next roll, he got another six and overshot his burrow.

"Noooo!" he wailed. "Now I have to go around again!"

Suzie snickered.

"That's the way the game goes," Rita replied sympathetically.

Her own roll landed her in front of his burrow, just two spaces behind him. He looked at

the hungry statuette fearfully as it loomed over him. After a few more rolls where it looked like

Timothy might pull ahead out of Rita's reach, Rita rolled a six, landing her in his space.

"Bad luck, Tim," she stated apologetically as she reached for him. She picked him up

and placed him in the den.

"Gobble him up! Gobble him up!" Suzie cheered.

Rita looked at her quizzically, "Do you think I should, Suzie? He might be tasty, you

know." She plucked Timothy back up by his tail and dangled him over her open mouth.

He squeaked in surprise and fear.

"Alright, here I go, Suzie. Anything you want to say to your brother before he's in my

tummy?"

"Can I have your stuff?" Suzie jeered.

"N-no!" Timothy yelled in reply.

"Not a very touching final exchange between siblings," Rita noted. She dropped Timothy

into her mouth and snapped her jaws shut.

Suzie's eyes bulged. "I-I was just joking," she whimpered.

Rita dropped Timothy back into her cupped hands and, holding him gently, nuzzled him

on the head. "I know you were, Suzie. I hope you aren't any worse for wear after my little joke,

Tim."

"I-I'm okay," he replied shakily.

Rita placed him back in the black circle.

"That's good. Let's see if I can add your sister to my cache."

After a few more rolls, Suzie landed on top of Rita and chose to move forward one space

as she was close to getting back to her burrow.

"That's a bold move, Suzie," Rita complimented. "Let's see whether our brazen bunny is

rewarded or punished for that move."

They shifted positions the next couple moves, and then Rita rolled a three and landed on

top of Suzie.

"Looks like caution would have been the better strategy," Rita remarked. She plucked

Suzie up and put her in the den. "Two little bunnies in the fox's den!" Rita trilled. She felt a wave

of possessive affection for her young guests, and she snatched them both up and nuzzled them

on top of their heads.

"Can we play again, Miss Rita?" asked Suzie.

"Of course we can, Suzie, but henceforth, I want the two of you to address me as Auntie

Rita. You're both dear to me, and I want you to think of me as part of your family."

"Yes, Miss-er-Auntie Rita," Suzie responded.

Timothy seemed to like the idea, "I have a fox for an aunt! That's so cool!"

They played the game a couple more times: Timothy won the second time, and Rita won

again the third time. Afterward, Rita returned the board game to the conservatory and took the

mice upstairs to tuck them in and read them a bedtime story. This time she selected The Lamb

Who Cried 'Wolf', the story of a lamb who repeatedly told his parents a wolf was trying to get

into their house so that he wouldn't have to go to bed early. The story ended with a wolf actually

breaking into the house and gobbling up the lamb and his whole family.

"Which is why you shouldn't lie," Rita concluded.

After she put the mice to bed, she proceeded to the bathroom to brush her teeth and

shower. Once she was done, she called Boots to finish drying her with the blow drier. Rita could

tell from his inquisitive expression that he wanted to ask her something but didn't feel

comfortable doing so.

"Go ahead and spit it out, Boots," she commanded.

Boots shifted his boots nervously, "How was your day today, Mistress?"

"Lovely, but I know you want to know more than that," she answered pointedly.

Boots swallowed and took a deep breath. "You, uh, spent most of it playing with the

young mice."

"Our guests, yes," Rita answered even though he hadn't phrased it as a question. "Get

to the point, Boots."

"Did, did you ever consider, you know, killing them?"

Rita gave the human a stern look. "Certainly not. I told their parents I'd take good care of

them, and you know how I feel about lying."

"But that's what you do with prey, Mistress! You never let them go, and you always kill

them eventually," Boot blurted. "Not that I disagree with what you're doing," he added nervously.

Rita frowned. "What is this, Boots? Have you been talking with Howard more? Do you

think I might actually be going soft?"

"N-no, Mistress, I don't think you're going soft!"

"You're no carnivore, Boots. Do you ever wonder at the fact that I haven't cut you up?"

Boots' face twisted in confusion. "I, uh; do I, uh? N-no, I've, I've never wondered-"

"Exactly. There are some people I prefer to have alive, Boots, carnivores or not."

Boots nodded fervently, "I-I see, Mistress. Thank you." Boots finished drying her and put

away the blow drier. He bowed low, "Goodnight, Mistress."

"Goodnight, Boots."

He clomped out of the room somewhat faster than usual. Rita wondered whether the

human would have nightmares about her cutting him into little pieces. That would serve him

right! She wasn't used to having her staff question her behavior, least of all the obedient Boots.

They simply didn't understand that there was more than one way to amuse oneself with prey.

Sure, there was one way she usually preferred, but that didn't mean she didn't ever want to try

something different. Rita let out an exasperated sigh: she'd have to reassure the staff by really

going all out on her next victim.

She tiptoed back to her bedroom to avoid waking the mice, assuming Boots' stomping

hadn't already done that. As she made her way through the dark room to her bed, she felt her

foot kick something small, something that squeaked in pain. Rita froze and let her eyes adjust.

After a few moments, she saw the silhouettes of Suzie and Timothy against the carpet by her

bed. She bent down and picked them up.

"Are you both okay?" she asked worriedly. "Who did I kick?"

"Me," squeaked Timothy. "But I'm okay."

"What were you thinking lurking in the dark like that?" Rita scolded. "I nearly stepped on

you! You might have been horribly injured!"

"We're sorry, Auntie Rita," Suzie answered. "We were scared. We wanted to sleep with

you."

A surge of sympathy and even guilt churned Rita's stomach. Of course they were afraid

by themselves in that big, dark room. She snuggled them gently to her chest.

"Of course you can sleep with me; I shouldn't have left you alone in this big, scary house

to start with."

Rita placed the mice on one of the pillows at the head of the bed, pulled back the sheets,

and climbed in herself. She lay on her side and nestled Timothy and Suzie against her soft

belly, curling around them protectively and tucking her tail around in front of her to cover them.

Finally, she pulled the blankets up to cover the three of them. She sighed contentedly as she felt

the two warm, little bodies snuggle themselves into her soft fur. Closing her eyes, Rita let herself

slip into peaceful sleep.

* * *

Rita ran down the long upstairs hallway, opening one door after the other to look inside.

Where are Timothy and Suzie? She continued down the never-ending hall searching for the

mice. She flung open the door to her study; Boots was dusting her books with the blow drier.

"Boots! Have you seen Timothy and Suzie? I can't find them anywhere!"

Boots gave her a funny look, and his eyes trailed down to her belly. Rita felt a small kick

from inside her stomach. What? How? There wasn't time to wonder: she shoved her right index

finger down her throat. She gagged and retched, but nothing came up. She shoved her hand in

farther until nearly the entire thing was down her throat. She gagged. She felt her stomach

heave and the mice inside scramble, but she couldn't throw them up.

"Boots! Help me! I can't get them out!"

"It's alright, Mistress. It will all be over soon," he assured her calmly. He went back to

blowing the books.

Rita raced out of the study. She had to find something to make her throw up. She flung

open another door: the kitchen, maybe there would be something in here. She ran to the

refrigerator and yanked it open: it was full of jars of pickles, but near the back, she saw a jug of

milk and a bottle of hydrogen peroxide. She dug through the jars of pickles, throwing them out to

shatter around her on the floor. The kitchen staff could clean up later. Finally, she reached the

milk and peroxide. She could feel the mice's struggles getting weaker: there was no time to lose

looking for a glass. She dumped out one of the jars of pickles and mixed the milk and peroxide

inside. She chugged the fizzy concoction and waited. Seconds crawled by and then a minute.

Nothing.

"Please work!" Rita pleaded, staring at her stomach desperately.

Finally, she felt something happening. She opened her mouth and let out a loud burp.

Her stomach gurgled and the mice inside began to move more frantically. No! Rita tried shoving

her finger down her throat again to no avail. She felt a few more weak kicks, and then the

movement stopped. Her stomach gurgled discordantly, and she burped again. The sour flavor of

the digesting milk was tainted with a second gamey flavor.

"Timothy, Suzie, I'm so, so sorry," she whispered.

Feelings of loss and sorrow swept over her, and she began to weep silently, tears

streaming down her face while her shoulders shook. Her tears plopped into the pickle juice that

covered the floor.

"What have you done?!" a horrified squeak came from across the room.

Rita turned to see Jacob and Diane standing at the edge of the puddle of pickle juice.

"You said you'd take good care of them!" Diane wailed. She burst into tears, and Jacob

wrapped his arms around her.

"I-I don't know what happened!" Rita tried to explain. "I didn't want to. I tried to save

them!"

"You ate them!" Jacob rebutted furiously.

"I didn't mean to!"

"You monster!"

"No!"

Rita sucked in a deep breath, and her eyes shot open. She was lying in her bed, and the

early morning sunlight was beginning to filter in through the bedroom window. She hurriedly ran

her hand down her front and was relieved to find the mice still nestled against the outside of her

belly. What a horrible dream! She was reluctant to go back to sleep, but she didn't want to wake

Timothy and Suzie yet. So she lay feeling the reassuring warmth of their tiny bodies pressed

against hers.

She must have dozed off again because she was awoken by Boots tromping into the

room with her morning coffee. Rita pushed down the blankets and stroked her hand over the

mice until they uncurled and opened their eyes sleepily.

"Good morning, Sweethearts," Rita crooned.

"Good morning, Auntie Rita," Suzie replied.

Rita sat up and moved the mice to her lap before she accepted the coffee from Boots,

who was waiting silently. As she took the coffee, Rita noticed his expression was one of forced

stoicism. He adjusted the pillow behind her.

"Anything else, Mistress?"

"I assume Gustav will be serving breakfast in the dining room again."

"Yes, Mistress."

"Then that's all, Boots."

Boots bowed and clomped back out of the room.

Rita sipped her coffee and looked down at the mice. "Did the two of you sleep well?"

They both nodded.

"That's good." She took another sip of coffee.

"What's for breakfast? I'm hungry!" squeaked Timothy.

Rita smirked. "I don't know. Let's find out what Gustav has made for us." Holding the

coffee in one hand, she transferred the mice to her right shoulder then slid out of bed, holding

the coffee in both hands. She thusly transported mice and coffee safely to the kitchen.

Gustav greeted her upon her arrival, "Good morning, Your Grace. I'll bring breakfast to

the dining room in just a moment."

"What is it?" squeaked Timothy.

"Pancakes for your sister and yourself with the addition of sausage links for Her Grace."

"Thank you, Gustav. I'm sure we'll enjoy your cooking as always," Rita replied.

Rita continued to the dining room, placed her coffee at one end and then the mice to

either side. As Gustav promised, breakfast consisted of pancakes with butter and maple syrup

for the mice and a small pancake and several pork sausage links for her. Timothy and Suzie

enjoyed their pancakes but got very sticky with maple syrup in the eating of them. Once they

had finished breakfast, Rita gingerly picked up the sticky mice.

"Now it's time to get you ready for Count Dubois' arrival," she explained.

Rita carried them up to the bathroom to wash in the sink again. Whilst the mice splashed

around in the sink, Rita called in Boots to brush out her fur. She kept an eye on the mice and

lifted her arms, legs, or tail as necessary while Boots smoothed her fur with the soft brush. Rita

noticed that Boots was still doing his best to stay detached from the situation at hand.

When he had finished brushing, she looked up at him. "Thank you, Bootsy. You may

examine your work with a few pets if you like," she offered.

Boots' eyes went wide in surprise, and then he grinned eagerly. Rita rarely let him pet

her even though she knew he enjoyed the feeling of her soft fur: allowing her servants to fondle

her constantly wouldn't have been the least bit appropriate. He stroked his giant right hand

down her back and out her tail. Rita let him repeat the action three more times before spinning

around and catching his hand as he raised it for another pet.

"That's enough, Bootsy. Go make sure everything's ready for Old Dullbois' visit."

"Yes, Mistress." Boots stood up and tromped out of the room.

Rita was pleased to see he wore a more cheerful expression as he left than when he'd

come in. She didn't like her staff to be unhappy even if there wasn't much she could do for the

gloomy Edgar or surly Howard.

Once the mice were clean and dry, Rita took them to their room to get dressed. It was a

bit tricky putting the clothes on the small mice, and Rita found she wasn't able to button

Timothy's buttons at all. However, with Suzie's help they got the buttons in all of the right holes.

When they were both dressed, Suzie twirled around, examining the flowing lavender ruffles.

"You look lovely, Suzie," Rita complimented. "And you look like quite the dapper little

gentleman, Timothy."

Timothy pulled at his tie. "It's too tight," he complained.

Rita readjusted it to the way it was. "I'm sorry, Tim. Fancy clothes can be uncomfortable,

but you need to look presentable for Count Dubois."

Rita took the mice to her room where she dressed in a light, full-length, sleeveless red

dress with wide pleats at the bottom. She also clipped on a gold necklace with a gold and onyx

oval pendant.

"You're so pretty, Auntie Rita!" Suzie squeaked.

"Thank you, Sweetie."

Rita took the mice to the sitting room to await the arrival of Count Dubois. Rita hoped the

presence of the mice would make his visit at least somewhat more tolerable. Count Dubois

insisted on bothering the other nobility with incessant visits where he did little but blather on

about golf or some salacious gossip he'd picked up. Rita wasn't sure which was worse: she had

no interest in golf or the affairs of other nobles, who she also despised. Maybe he'd be so busy

trying to plumb the mice for gossip on her that he'd hardly talk to her at all.

Count Dubois was late as usual, but finally, Johann popped into the room to announce

his arrival. Rita left the mice on one of the light blue armchairs and sauntered out into the entry

hall. Count Dubois was standing just in front of the door. Like Rita and the rest of the nobility

and royals, he was a red fox. Unlike Rita, he was of normal height and stood a little over a head

taller than her. As usual, he was wearing his dress army jacket, which was black with orange

accents inside the collar and cuffs and, in Dubois' case, was decorated with golden bars

indicating the rank of general and several medals for valor. Rita had a hard time believing any of

them had been earned.

"Rita, My Dear, you're looking as stunning as ever!" he declared. He hurried across the

room, seized her right hand, and kissed it.

Rita put on a smile that she hoped covered her distaste. "How are you, Philip? Why, it's

been nearly two months since you paid me a visit. Any longer and I might have begun to think

you'd forgotten all about me." One could only hope at least.

"Never, my dear! I'd never forget a lady so beautiful. If I were away a million years, your

image would be as clear in my mind as the last moment I saw you."

Another thing Rita disliked about Dubois was his obviously exaggerated and insincere

attempts at flattery.

"Let's go have a seat," she suggested and led him toward the living room.

He insisted on looping his right arm through her left for the walk even though it was only

a few steps. When they entered the room, he paused to gawk at the mice.

"I say, My Dear, it seems as though you have yourself a bit of a rodent infestation!"

"These are my guests, Timothy and Suzie," Rita corrected. "Say hello to Count Dubois,

children."

The mice stood on the chair, and Suzie curtsied while Timothy bowed.

"Charming," Dubois responded dryly.

Rita slipped her arm out of Dubois' and went to sit with Timothy and Suzie. She picked

them up so that she could sit down then set them on her lap. She gestured to the remaining light

blue armchair and sofas.

"Please sit where you like, Philip."

Dubois gave her a funny look before sitting on the sofa to Rita's right. "So have you been

entertaining these rodents long?"

"Just a couple days now. The rest of their family went home yesterday morning, and I'm

going to return them after a few days."

Dubois chuckled patronizingly, "Huhuhuh, this reminds me of the time Lady Roche took

a shine to three little goslings, carried them everywhere. ..."

Dubois proceeded to tell a long-winded and boring story about Lady Roche. Rita might

have been offended by the comparison to the eccentric lady had she not tuned him out in favor

of trying to decide whether he had something stuck between his front teeth. As usual with

Dubois, one dull story led to another until Rita was sure he'd been rambling on for several

hours.

At last, Gustav brought in a bottle of wine and a pair of glasses for their pre-dinner

cocktail.

Dubois took the bottle from the stoat to examine it. "Ah, yes, an excellent year for this

merlot."

He handed the bottle back to the stoat, and Gustav poured the dark red liquid into their

glasses.

Gustav bowed to Rita. "I'll be back with juice for the children, Your Grace."

Rita bobbed her head in acknowledgement. "Thank you, Gustav."

She looked back to Dubois, who was holding his glass up to the light of the silver

chandelier and studying it with one eye.

"Nice rich color," he concluded. He swirled the wine and sniffed it. "Hmm, interesting

bouquet: I detect roses and thyme and." He sniffed again. "Yes, and just a hint of cardamom."

Rita rolled her eyes and took a sip of hers. She suspected that she could serve Dubois

vinegar mixed with urine, and he'd compliment the bouquet as long as it came in an expensive

bottle.

Dubois also took a sip and swished it around in his mouth before swallowing with a

satisfied sigh. "Ahh, not too fruity, just right. Now where were we, My Dear? Ah, yes, I was

telling you about Lord Morel's foray into pumpkin farming, quite the disastrous venture. You

wouldn't believe the problems he's had with stink bugs. ..."

Dubois continued to yammer on until Gustav informed them that dinner was ready. Rita

noticed Suzie and Timothy were sleeping and roused them before carrying them to the dining

room. Rita sat at the end of the table as usual, and Dubois was at her left. She set Suzie and

Timothy on the table to her right, placing them across from Dubois. The kitchen staff brought out

the first course, which was a creamy potato soup and fresh rolls. Dubois eyed Timothy and

Suzie as they struggled to handle the oversized slices of roll that they had been served.

"So how are you two rodents finding life amongst the nobility?" he inquired.

"It's fun!" answered Timothy.

"Yes, Auntie Rita has been playing lots of games with us," Suzie agreed.

Dubois' mouth dropped open, and he stared at the mice a moment, apparently

flabbergasted, before erupting into a throaty chortle, "Ohohohoho, Auntie?! Ohoho, oh dear me.

Ohohohoho!" After laughing for at least two minutes, he wiped his eyes with his napkin and

sniffed.

"Are you quite finished?" Rita asked tartly.

"I'm sorry, Your Grace, but the idea of you as an auntie, to rodents nonetheless, was just

too much." He turned back to Timothy and Suzie. "Tell me, rodents. What else have you been

doing with your, heheh, auntie these last two days? Does she tuck you in and give you a kiss

goodnight perhaps?"

"No, but she reads us a bedtime story, and she lets us sleep with her," Suzie answered.

Dubois peered at Rita sidelong with a smirk before addressing the mice again, "Sounds

cozy."

"It is. Auntie Rita's fur is soft," Suzie assured earnestly.

Dubois' smirk spread into a wide grin. "Indeed! Then I take it you meant she actually lets

you sleep in physical contact with her. Does she hold you like her favorite stuffed animal

perhaps? Or maybe-"

"I don't think that's really any of your business, Philip," Rita cut in sharply. She hadn't

thought it possible, but Dubois was even more obnoxious when he was trying to satisfy his thirst

for fresh gossip than when he was divulging what he already had.

Dubois put on an obviously insincere look of contrition. "I'm sorry, Your Grace. I didn't

realize the topic was embarrassing you."

"It isn't," she growled quietly.

Dubois smiled slyly, "Then you won't mind filling in the details, hmm?"

Rita glared at the loathsome fox. "If you must know, I tucked Suzie under my chin the

first night and put both of them against my stomach last night."

"How intimate. Is there anything else I should know?"

"I don't know. We played cards. We danced. We played Hunt, and I washed them in the

sink," Rita answered tersely. "I assume that satisfies your curiosity."

Dubois smiled condescendingly. "Thank you, Your Grace. That's quite satisfactory. I'm

glad you've found an outlet for your more motherly instincts."

If you weren't nobility, you'd be finding out how tenderly I can wield a scalpel. As it was,

Rita tried to content herself with imagining the screams he'd make as she cut him into little

pieces.

Apparently satisfied that he'd gotten enough out of the mice, Dubois spent the rest of the

meal expounding on the latest golf tournaments. Rita tried to ignore him and focus on Gustav's

cooking, which was delicious as always. The main course for Rita and Dubois was roast beef

with carrots and celery. For the mice, the beef was replaced with marinated portabella. Finally,

dessert was Boston cream pie.

When they had finished eating, Rita turned to Dubois. "Well, Philip, I assume you're in a

hurry to get back home. Let me escort you to the door."

"There's no rush at all," he corrected. "There's nothing I-"

"No no, I mustn't detain you any longer." Rita jumped up and seized him by the right arm

with both hands, pulling him to his feet and out the door through the kitchen.

"Really, I can stay longer," he protested.

Rita shook her head, "You need to get home for an early bed. All of this traveling and

conversation must be exhausting."

She nodded to Johann, who was stationed by the front door, and he pulled it open. Rita

pulled Dubois through to the front step.

"Have a safe trip home, Philip."

"Have a good evening, My Dear, and don't worry: I won't breathe a word about your,

ahem, niece and nephew to anyone."

Rita was certain it would be the first thing he'd tell the next person he visited. "Tell who

you like!" she rejoined sharply.

She stepped back inside, grabbed the door from Johann, and slammed it in Dubois'

face. She waited, and after a couple minutes, she heard Dubois' car start and drive away.

Worthless sod! Dubois always annoyed Rita, but this time she was also angry that she'd let him

get to her. His opinion was beneath her concern, and yet she'd allowed herself to be

embarrassed by his prying into her relationship with Timothy and Suzie. She stomped back to

the dining room, her mind full of deliciously gruesome images of what she'd do with Dubois if

she had him in her dungeon. But Dubois was gone, and even if he were here, she didn't dare to

murder a noble. If the occasional missing peasant didn't arouse the King's notice, a missing

noble certainly would.

As Rita entered the dining room, her eyes fell on the mice, still eating their dessert.

Rita's fingers twitched. There was the rest of their family to worry about, of course, but she had

their address: they could be dealt with. Rita quickly traversed the remainder of the distance to

the table.

She grinned at the mice toothily. "I see you're still enjoying your dessert. You must be

getting full. We wouldn't want you to get a bellyache." She picked up Timothy and poked the

claw of her thumb against his swollen belly. "You look fit to pop!" She slowly pressed her claw in

harder.

"Auntie Rita! That hurts!" he squeaked.

What am I doing?! Horrified, Rita set the mouse back on the table. She looked around

for someone to help and spotted Edgar sulking through the door to the conservatory.

"Edgar, get in here!" she called urgently.

The pine marten scurried into the room. "Yes, Your Grace?"

Rita motioned to the mice with a wave of her arm. "Take them up to their room and close

yourself in with them until Boots or I say you can come out," she instructed.

Edgar blinked. "W-why?"

"Now, Edgar!" she commanded.

Edgar snatched up the mice and hurried toward the door to the kitchen.

"Are we in trouble?" Timothy yelled.

"No, Sweetie, just be good for Edgar, and I'll see you in a little bit," Rita called back.

Rita raced from the dining room to the front door, pulled it open, and dashed out into the

front yard. The sun was approaching the tops of the trees that surrounded the yard, lengthening

their shadows so that they darkened the West end of the yard. The sky promised a pleasant

summer evening, but Rita was too anxious to appreciate the prospect. Her only concern was to

satiate the bloodlust that had nearly caused her to murder her murine guests. She might find

someone alone if she ventured out into the woods. The estate's residents weren't supposed to

stray within a hundred yards of the manor, but she assumed individuals often broke the rules.

She could always go farther if she needed to. Her right eye caught movement near the dark

edge of the woods, and she turned her head to see a female pheasant poking through the

underbrush just a few layers of trees into the woods. Perfect.

Rita put on her best friendly smile and struck up a cheerful tone. "Hello there, Madame!"

she called.

The pheasant looked up at her.

Rita waved. "Hi, I'm Rita Belmont. Are you lost? Can I help you with something?"

The pheasant tilted her head to the side. "Lost? No, I'm fine. Why do you ask?"

Rita struggled to keep the excitement out of her voice and speak in a calm and friendly

tone. "It's just, heehee, that I don't usually allow people this close to my manor."

"Oh! This is your house and woods?" The pheasant sounded concerned. "I saw other

people living in the woods, and I didn't realize there were rules about where we could be."

"It's no matter. Why don't you come inside for a little visit? It's been a while since I've

had such a, heehee, pleasant looking guest."

The pheasant looked behind her worriedly. "I need to be getting back soon," she fretted.

"Just a few minutes then. I won't keep you long."

The pheasant nodded, "Just a few minutes." She strutted out of the woods and up to the

house until she was standing a couple arm lengths from Rita. "I'm really sorry about coming so

close to your house without permission."

"Think nothing more of it. What did you say your name is, Dear?"

"My name's Sharon."

"I just wanted to let you know how much I appreciate this, Sharon," Rita told her

sincerely.

Confused, "Appreciate what?"

Rita leapt to grab the pheasant and caught the pheasant's neck in her jaws. She

clamped her jaws shut and jerked her head viciously to rip open the pheasant's throat. Hot

blood sprayed out of the ragged wound covering Rita's face and chest. The pheasant jerked a

few times then fell limp. Rita dropped the carcass to the ground. The pheasant had been

concerned about something in the woods. Rita hurried into the woods to investigate the area.

After around ten minutes of searching, Rita spotted a nest with a pair of pheasant eggs. She

hurried over to the nest and picked the eggs out of it.

"We can't let you get cold, can we?"

She took the eggs back to the manor. On the way through the entry hall, she met Boots.

"Mistress! You're covered in blood!" he yelped.

"None of it's mine, Boots, but there is a dead pheasant out in the yard that you need to

take care of."

Boots hurried outside, and Rita took the eggs to the kitchen. She filled a pot with water,

put the eggs inside, and placed the pot on the stove over one of the gas burners, which she set

to HIGH. She waited nonchalantly by the stove, picking at the drying blood on her dress, until

the water came to a boil and then turned down the flame so that it wouldn't boil over. After the

eggs had boiled ten minutes, Rita turned off the burner and went to get washed up. Someone

else could dispose of the cooked eggs.

Rita left her dress on the floor of the bathroom and took a shower, being careful to wash

all of the blood out of her fur. Timothy and Suzie didn't need to worry about what she'd been

doing the past hour. After wiping herself with the towel, she blow-dried herself, assuming Boots

was still dealing with the body. When she was dry, she trotted back down the hall and knocked

on the mice's door.

"Who's there?" called Edgar.

"It's me! You can come out now," Rita trilled.

Edgar opened the door warily, and Rita gave him a reassuring smile.

"How are Timothy and Suzie?" she asked.

Edgar nodded to the bed, "Fine."

The mice had removed their dress clothes and were sitting on the bed.

Rita rushed over, swept them up, and nuzzled them on top of their heads. "I'm so glad

you're okay!" she exclaimed.

"Why wouldn't we be?" Suzie asked, confused.

"No reason. I just missed you."

"Why did we have to stay in our room? Did we do something wrong?"

"No, Sweetie. I just had to take care of some grown-up things. You wouldn't have

understood. I didn't want to trouble you with them. What do you want to do now?"

"Can we dance again?"

"Of course, Suzie. Let's go find Howard."

Rita located Howard in his quarters, which were in the back part of the basement like

those of the rest of the staff. She danced with Timothy and Suzie while he played Mozart's

eleventh piano sonata. Afterwards, they played Go Fish with Edgar in the conservatory, and

then Rita took the mice to get ready for bed. The three of them brushed their teeth; although,

the mice didn't have toothbrushes and were obliged to rub their teeth with the minty toothpaste

using the edge of one of Rita's handkerchiefs. Then Rita took them to her study and read them

The Gingerbread Man, which ends with the animated cookie being tricked and eaten by a fox.

"Not much of a moral to that one, except not to be a cookie," Rita concluded.

After putting away the book, Rita took them to her bedroom.

"I assume you'd rather sleep with me again," she stated.

Timothy and Suzie nodded. Rita placed them on a pillow, pulled back the blankets, and

climbed into bed with them, tucking them against her belly so that she could curl around them

as before.

"You smell different today, Auntie Rita," Suzie commented.

"Do I? What do I smell like, Suzie?"

The mouse sniffed Rita's fur, seeming to try to decide, and then frowned. "Are you okay,

Auntie Rita?" she asked worriedly. "You smell like blood."

"I'm fine, Sweetie," Rita assured her. "It's nothing you need to be concerned about."

Seeming reassured, Suzie snuggled into Rita's fur like Timothy. Rita stroked the mice

with her finger as they fell asleep then pulled up the blankets and lay her own head down to drift

to sleep.

* * *

Rita was in the dining room having breakfast with Timothy and Suzie. She was drinking

her coffee, and they were eating toast with grape jelly whilst Gustav prepared the rest of their

breakfast. The stoat brought in a tray of eggs.

"Hard boiled eggs, Your Grace," he explained as he set the tray on the table.

"Thank you, Gustav."

Rita picked up one of the eggs to crack it on the side of her plate. It looked a bit odd, a

bit small. She tapped the shell on her plate, and it disintegrated. The half-formed fetus of a

pheasant spilled out onto her plate. Rita's mouth gaped in shock as she looked at the gruesome

body on her plate. Her eyes were forced away by a shrill scream from beside her; Timothy and

Suzie were looking at the bird in horror.

"It-it's a baby bird!" Suzie shrieked.

Timothy covered his eyes with his hands.

"I don't understand," Gustav muttered, confused. "These are the eggs you brought us

last night, Your Grace."

Timothy and Suzie turned to look fearfully at Rita.

"A-auntie Rita? Y-you killed the baby bird?" Suzie stammered.

Rita dropped her napkin over the body. "This is all just a terrible mistake, Sweetie."

Suzie shook her head, seeming uncertain. "You smelled like blood last night. What were

you doing while we were in our room?"

"I told you: nothing you need to worry about, Suzie," Rita tried to reassure her. She

reached out to draw the mice close so that she could comfort them, but they shied away.

"Don't be afraid," Rita implored them. "I'd never harm you."

"But you killed the baby birds," Suzie accused.

"And you almost ate me!" Timothy added.

Rita looked from one mouse to the other desperately. "That was a joke, Timothy. You

know it was a joke!"

"It was scary inside your mouth," Timothy rebutted.

"It scared me too!" Suzie agreed.

"Then it wasn't a funny joke; I'm sorry. But I never meant you any harm."

"What makes us different from the baby birds?" Suzie squeaked angrily.

"You two are dear to me, Suzie. I, I only killed the birds to protect you!"

Timothy's and Suzie's eyes went wide. "H-how did it protect us?" Suzie asked.

Rita shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "I, I was angry. I wanted, I needed to kill

something. You were there, but I couldn't hurt you! I had to find someone else."

The mice looked at Rita in fear and horror. "You killed them so that you wouldn't kill us?"

Suzie whispered.

"Yes! I know you don't understand, but you're dear to me! I won't ever harm you, either

of you!"

"You're a murderer. Why would we want anything to do with you?" Suzie asked coldly.

Rita felt as if the ground had fallen out from under her. She gasped, and her eyes shot

open: she was lying in bed with the mice still nestled against her belly. Another horrible dream!

Rita tried to take comfort from the warm bodies snuggled against hers. But what if they did find

out? How long could she keep Timothy and Suzie in the dark? Suzie had smelled the blood last

night. Surely, she would get suspicious if Rita kept coming back smelling like blood, but what

would Rita do if she had another episode like yesterday evening? Trying to ignore the urge to

kill would pose a horrible risk for her vulnerable guests. But I never planned to keep them more

than a few days. Perhaps the time had come to take them home. Rita gently stroked the mice;

she was going to miss them. Rita's petting woke them, and they uncurled and crawled out from

under the blankets to blink sleepily in the pale dawn sunlight.

"Is it time to get up?" Suzie asked.

"It's a little early, but let's go see what Gustav can prepare for us anyway."

Rita climbed out of bed and carried the mice to the kitchen. Gustav was surprised to see

them.

"Good morning, Your Grace. Getting an early start this morning, I see. I'll see what I can

do about breakfast."

"Just prepare us something light and simple, Gustav, and then I'd like you to prepare a

picnic lunch for us. Let Wolfgang and Johann know if you would too, please."

Gustav bobbed his head. "I'll see to it, Your Grace."

Rita took the mice to the dining room, and after a few minutes, they were served toast as

well as slices of fresh cantaloupe and strawberries. Rita's coffee took a bit longer. Once they

were done eating, Rita took Timothy and Suzie to the bathroom to wash off the fruit juice and

then to their room to put on the t-shirts they had arrived in, which Boots had laundered. While

they were getting dressed, Rita collected their dress clothes and the scrap of paper with their

address, which she had placed in her bedroom dresser. She donned a light pink short-sleeved

dress with narrow pleats at the bottom that extended nearly to her knees and a wide brimmed

white paper straw hat with a yellow ribbon. She folded the scrap of paper and dress clothes

inside her handkerchief and tucked it into the bosom of her dress. Then she went to collect the

mice and carry them down to the entry hall. Wolfgang was waiting with the picnic basket, and he

opened the door for Rita.

The sun was just climbing above the trees on the East side of the yard, and the summer

morning was still fairly cool. Johann had the black sedan waiting, and Wolfgang opened its back

door for Rita. She climbed in to sit behind Johann, holding the mice on her lap, and Wolfgang

slid the basket in next to them. They drove down the private drive until Rita stopped Johann

roughly where they had started from the other day. Few of the estate's residents had emerged

from their homes, and most of the houses had the smoke of cooking fires rising from their

chimneys. Rita politely returned the greetings of the few they met while she carried the mice,

one in each hand. When they exited the woods into the meadow, Rita angled them toward the

hill they had picnicked on before. Some of the long grass was still a bit dewy; Rita held the mice

above it so that they wouldn't get wet as they strolled through the meadow. When they reached

the top of the hill with the sugar maple, Rita indicated for Wolfgang and Johann to spread out

the picnic. She stood holding the mice and gazing out over her estate.

"Do you remember this place?" Rita inquired. "This is where we first met. It was only a

few days ago, but it seems like so long ago now."

Timothy and Suzie looked around. "I remember the tree," Suzie answered. "Daddy said it

was a good tree to eat under." She paused. "I miss Mommy and Daddy," she murmured sadly.

Her comment seemed to trigger Timothy's homesickness as well. He sniffed, "Me too."

"I know," Rita replied understandingly. "Two days is a long time to be away from your

parents at your age. That's why I've brought your things, so we can return you home after our

picnic. However, I want you to promise me one thing."

"What's that?" Suzie asked.

"Promise me that you'll come visit me again someday."

"I promise," Suzie replied earnestly.

"Me too," added Timothy.

Rita nuzzled them on top of their heads. "Thank you. I'm going to miss you, and that

means a lot to me."

"I'll miss you too, Auntie Rita," Suzie told her.

"Not as much as I will!" Timothy claimed.

Rita smiled. "Let's see what Gustav packed us for lunch."

Gustav had prepared Swiss cheese, ham and Swiss cheese, and egg salad sandwiches.

After her dream, Rita wasn't much in the mood for eggs and left the egg salad for Wolfgang and

Johann whilst she selected the ham and cheese. She gave cheese sandwiches to the mice.

Gustav had also packed blueberries, ice water, and sparkling apple juice. Rita served the mice

and herself, and they enjoyed their lunch under the warm morning sun.

After they had finished eating, they sat for a while, just enjoying the beautiful day. Rita

took in the warmth of the sun while also basking in the warmth of her affection for her diminutive

guests, sitting beside her. Eventually, it started to get hot out, and they packed up and returned

to the car. Once they were back in the car, Rita retrieved the address from the paper in her

handkerchief and handed it to Johann.

"It's time to take our young guests home," she explained.

Johann pulled the GPS out of the middle console and punched in the address. "It's a

four hour drive," he noted. "Would you like me to take you back to the manor first, Your Grace?"

"No, I'll come along," Rita answered. "I want to see our guests safely home."

Johann nodded and started the car, continuing up the private drive to the road and from

the road to the highway. Rita held the mice on her lap, and they slept most of the way as the car

sped down the highway, lulled to sleep by the hum of the engine and road noise. Rita watched

them sleep, so innocent curled up on her lap with her hands protectively wrapped around them.

She knew they could never understand the full truth of her affection for them, the balance

between genuine tenderness and the need to possess, to control. She hoped they would

remember her like a kind aunt and keep their promise to visit again in the future, but they were

very young: the memory of the extended weekend might soon fade until it was little more than a

half-remembered dream, a fantastic experience from another world, another life.

Finally, the car pulled up outside of a small house with yellow vinyl siding and teal

fixtures in a residential area composed mostly of other mouse-sized homes. The small yard was

neatly kept with mossy shrubs in front of the house and a gravel driveway containing a mouse-

sized silver minivan. Rita stroked her finger over the mice to rouse them, and they uncurled and

opened their eyes.

"We're here," she told them.

Wolfgang opened the door for them, and Rita stepped out. The teal door opened, and

Diane stepped out.

"Your Grace!" she squeaked in surprise. "I didn't expect you to bring them yourself! I

hope they weren't too much trouble."

"They were perfectly behaved," Rita assured her.

She set Timothy and Suzie on the ground, and they raced to their mother to hug her.

Diane crouched down to wrap her arms around them. Diane looked them over.

"Did you have a good time with the Duchess?"

"It was fun!" Timothy replied.

"Auntie Rita played lots of games with us," Suzie agreed.

"Auntie?" Diane murmured. She stood and looked up at Rita. "Thank you for taking good

care of my children. It sounds like they had a good time."

"It was a pleasure to have them," Rita assured her. "Anytime you want to send them to

stay with me again, I'll be delighted to have their company, and that goes for you and the rest of

your family as well."

Diane nodded, "Thank you, Your Grace. That's very kind." She looked down at Timothy

and Suzie. "Do you want to say goodbye to the Duchess before she leaves?"

Timothy and Suzie let go of their mother and scurried back over to Rita. Rita bent down

to pick them up and nuzzled them on top of their heads.

"I expect you to grow up into respectable young mice and to remember your promise to

me."

"We will," Suzie promised.

Rita set them back on the ground. "Then it's goodbye for now, but we'll see each other

again someday."

"Goodbye, Auntie Rita," they said in unison.

Rita turned to the open car door but, remembering their dress clothes, turned back and

pulled out her handkerchief to retrieve them. She carefully stepped into the yard and leaned

down to hand them to Diane.

"These are the clothes I bought them for meeting Count Dubois. You may as well take

them since they'll be too small by the time I see them again."

"Th-thank you, that's very generous," Diane replied as she looked at the expensive

clothes.

Rita stood, turned, and stepped back to the car. After Wolfgang closed the door after

her, she rolled down the window to give a final wave. The three mice waved back.

"Take care!" Rita called.

Johann started the car and pulled it away, the little yellow house soon disappearing from

view. Rita rolled up the window and sighed wistfully.

"You really care for them, don't you, Your Grace?" Wolfgang remarked.

"As much as one can care for prey, Wolfgang," Rita answered tersely.

Wolfgang nodded slowly. "I understand, Your Grace."

Rita spent the rest of the long ride home looking out the window. Entertaining the mice

had been a pleasant diversion, a wonderful diversion even, but now, she would be back to her

normal routine. And she needed to reassure the staff that she was still as fearsome and

dangerous as ever. Rita smiled at the prospect: she was going to enjoy thinking of ways to

torture her next victim that would allay her staff's doubts.

At length, they pulled up outside of the manor. Wolfgang took the basket from the car,

and Rita climbed across the seat to the door.

Before she got out of the car, she addressed her bodyguards, "I want you to find me

someone really nasty for tomorrow night, a real degenerate."

Wolfgang nodded, "Of course, Your Grace."

Rita hopped out of the car, and Wolfgang hurried to get the front door for her. Rita

proceeded to the stairs and took them down to the dungeon. She needed to make sure

everything was ready to entertain her new guest tomorrow evening. She rubbed her hands

together in anticipation.