Part of our annual fundraiser in February included pledges to participate in a murder mystery hunt followed by a decadent hunt breakfast at which the crime would be solved.  The actors in this mystery are the NTB staff themselves; true to life in character with little embellishment. A couple purely fictional characters were created but they represent true, valid threats to our precious countryside and field sports. 

 

Here's the story....

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NTB is a popular beagling foot pack, attracting new members and visitors from far and wide. Most members in the 2005-2026 season still reside in the immediate environs of Clarke County, although recently beagling enthusiasts from neighboring counties and Maryland have joined as word spreads of a good pack and good country – and an illustrious past. It’s a jovial group sharing utmost respect for one another, open-space and conservation values. Per the joint Master, discussion of politics in the field and at tea is not acceptable which ensures an amicable and pleasant atmosphere, and members gladly support her request to keep Sunday afternoons most pleasant to catch up with neighbors and friends while watching good hound work.

 

The membership is still in shock, however, that in the previous season a murder occurred at one of NTB’s beloved meets. The Masters and staff have been diligent in reviving the light-hearted atmosphere for which NTB is known and in returning the members’ focus on the hounds as they work the lines of the common cottontail rabbit. Nevertheless, the news of the previous year’s murder crime spread to other regions, and as it would happen, NTB had a surge of new members. Some of these new members were avid beagling enthusiasts - the right kind of members who wish only to see the continuation of a unique outdoor sport. Other new subscribers were drawn by morbid curiosity (a despicable human trait), joining only so they could walk alongside the staff who had been present that terrible day, and hear from them directly just what it was like to see the dead body. 

 

There were others, too, such as Bunny Grimalia, an out-of-state land developer joins NTB not because he likes hunting with hounds, but because he wants to get acquainted with landowners and eventually find one who will sell their property to him so he can build a mega-scale like Disney resort - yes, in the NTB territory! His company operates tacky resorts elsewhere in eastern states, and he is surely after something in Clarke County besides beagles. Rumor has it if he can’t build a resort, he’ll try for a data center.  All season long, the NTB staff has kept him  at arm’s length. He simply didn’t have the manners to be accepted or to be able to mix well. He always wanted something, like a private tour of a farm or to be invited to every party. While most members wouldn’t mind if he just went away, others expressed if he didn’t watch his step, he could wind up dead.

 

Another new member of suspicious origin was Garrett Gatsby, who contacted the Masters about joining NTB last summer. Marianne felt something seemed “off” in his desire to learn about beagles and rabbits; he asked more questions about the fixtures, the size of the properties and area game. After tiring of a Q and A session over the phone with him, Marianne invited him out and sent him the membership form. During the season, she noticed he always checked his whereabouts in respect to road access and gates and about a property’s owner.

 

Mark wasn’t impressed with Garrett after he chatted with him at tea a few weeks ago.  Mark told him about a dead owl he found in his barn, in perfect condition. Garrett got pushy about obtaining it; he wanted to sell it on the black market. Mark told him that mounting the owl would be illegal, but Garrett insisted he would take the risk knowing how much money it would fetch from a trophy collector. Marianne and Zeze suspect Garrett is also after the fisher that has been sighted on the Reads’ and Bryants’ properties that likely lives in the Benhams’ woods. That both fishers and barred owls are endangered and protected doesn’t seem to concern Garrett.

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Gillian Russell, owner of a neighboring farm, also had a bad start with Garrett. In late summer she went to her mailbox on the road and saw him in his vehicle parked at her gate to the woods. When asked what he was doing there, he explained he was watching for a big buck he saw while out with the beagles, and that the owner had given him permission to be there. “Well, you are mistaken, because that owner would be me, and we have never met!” Garrett laughed off her reply, turned on the charm, then asked Gillian bluntly if she would be interested in setting up an exclusive hunting lease for the property. She was enraged that a stranger would assume Clarke County residents would jump at the chance for money, giving up their stewardship of local wildlife. But since he identified himself as an NTB member, she quit the exchange with him and silently vowed to make NTB members aware of trophy hunting groups based in cities and suburbia. Gillian quickly relayed the info to the Masters of the NTB and Blue Ridge Hunt, advising surrounding neighbors to be on the lookout for trespassers or inquiries involving privatizing hunts’ territory.  They are moving behind the scenes to amass Virginia acreage for their exclusive hunts and in the process, barring foot packs or anyone else from hunting. Trophy hunters are as much a threat to the sport as a resort developer or a data center company.

 

Yet as the season progressed, Bunny and Garrett hunted regularly and became friendly with area residents. All the while Marianne was well aware of a fox or two stalking the hen house.  Russ kept his opinion to himself but told Marianne to keep them far away from the hounds.

 

Both Michael and Becki knew him years ago and didn’t smile when they learned he was going to be hunting regularly; instead, they cast their gaze to the dirt. Bunny Grimalia indeed had a nefarious background. Michael, a tax accountant, had handled his taxes years ago, and when he asked Bunny why things “weren’t adding up,” Bunny disappeared. He never paid Michael and left him on the hook with the IRS as the tax forms preparer. Then he learned that Bunny’s great uncle Guido Grimalia was head of an old “family” with suspicious dealings and involved with organized crime.

 

Years ago, Becki was a FOIA request analyst for the FBI. She had seen Bunny’s name come across her desk, and it wasn’t in celebration of his contributions to society.  Becki also had ties to certain “families” in New York and Jersey and made her own inquiries about Bunny. Her relatives filled her in: he made investments and development deals but went badly, really bad. Not long after Michael and Becki met, they decided they not to be tangled up with crime families for life, so they moved to Virginia where they could stay out of “old family” business and there, be involved with horses and hounds. When Becki was leaving New York, an uncle went so far as to offer Becki a reward if she or Michael would handle Bunny Grimalia “in the family style.” When they learned NTB let him subscribe, they told Marianne who was ready to kill when she heard they had welcomed a developer. Since she never liked to turn down a subscription, however, she would remain quiet about Bunny and keep peace in the field until she had proof of his intentions.

 

NTB members Jim and Susan were extremely observant when watching hounds, but also when watching people. Typically, they were polite in keeping their observations to themselves, but one day last fall, Susan slipped and commented that Bunny’s main concern during hunting was keeping his khakis and new LL Bean shoes spotless while other members were praising cattle pasture conditions and moisture levels. No one was sure whether Bunny heard her, but he was oddly silent the rest of that hunt day. Another day, Teri Lyn was heartbroken and angry when Bunny cussed at her Corgi James because he shook off the rain drops (and maybe a few strands of fluffy hair), which landed on his new khakis.

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 It had been a wonderful season despite the few “newbies” who joined only because they heard about the previous year’s murder. The NTB’s closing meet of the season would be at the Reads’ Stonefield, another beloved fixture, popular with both Blue Ridge Hunt and NTB members.

The Reads held a dance party the night before the beagling meet which was attended by several of the NTB members (dancing is almost as popular as hunting in Clarke County).  That night, the garden patio or “dance floor” would be illuminated and very much alive with music, drink, and dance until the wee morning hours, while the fields of Stonefield were dark and empty. Bunny announced that he would come for the weekend to partake in both dancing and hunting activities. Marianne was appalled to learn that he asked Zelicia for a tour of the farm on the afternoon of the party. When Bill offered to help Zeze with setup, she instead asked him to give Bunny the farm tour since she would have her hands full with party prep and cooking. Bill, an honorary whipper-in, laconic, wise; knows every inch of fixtures and their coverts, their weeds, rock breaks, and resident wildlife. He stays out of sight, mostly, but can materialize (as P.G. Wodehouse describes Jeeves, he "shimmers") at the right location at just the right time. He never spreads gossip but listens to it avidly.

 

On that walk around the farm, Bunny confessed to being in love with Zeze and that he wanted to buy Stonefield for their own. Bill was irate. No developer should ruin Stonefield, and no one (especially a developer) should declare that Zeze might be better off in an “easier” lifestyle. When they reached the stable, Bill had heard enough and bid Bunny goodbye, and left him to walk back to the house alone. Bill went into the stable to visit with Ilissa, the very-pleasant stable tenant.

 

Close to party time, Marianne arrived at the Reads. She and Zeze had a few minutes alone in the kitchen to catch up on their hobbies. Zeze gave her a new batch of sodium chlorite, swearing by its medicinal qualities for both humans and dogs, and they exchanged their experiences with DMSO use.  Zeze was experimenting with a nasal wash. Marianne told her about tree and plant seedlings she just started, and about a new article on poisonous native plants which included their seeds. As guests began to arrive, they left talk of remedies behind and began serving refreshments outside.

 

Bill kept his composure around Bunny and enjoyed the party along with everyone else. After all, Bunny would be hunting the next day and there was a need to keep the peace in the hunt field tomorrow as well as on the dance floor that evening. After enjoying the Reads’ dinner and hospitality and a few dances, Bill was ready to go home and rest up for the hunt the next day, so he said goodnight to Becki and Michael. They too were about ready to call it a night and went to find Marianne and Russ to let them know. Bill made his way in the dark to the parking field and found his car. While backing up, he accidentally “parked” his car on a rock ledge or an old maple stump. Fortunately, Russ was making his way through the dark and went straight to resolve the situation by simply heaving the car up just enough to free the bumper so it could move forward off the rock. After a few laughs and many thanks, Bill bid Russ a good night and drove off to get home to his cats. 

 

The party went on for a couple more hours with guests lingering by the dance floor and finishing conversations in the parking field before departing.  Marianne was lost in the reverie of the band and danced with Bunny.  Although he appeared to move swiftly and accurately on the dance floor, Becki and Russ could see he was overly drunk.  When Marianne had had enough dancing (more like propping up a cement gargoyle), she gently aimed him toward the bushes and lied that the bar was in that direction. He thanked her saying he looked forward to hunting tomorrow and then disappeared, probably to find a private spot to be sick or to pass out. Russ said he would go check on him, and Becki went to find Michael in case Russ needed a hand.

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At that moment, Garrett jumped at the opportunity to dance with Marianne. He too was tipsy from several cocktail concoctions served during the evening, so when the band played the last song, Marianne led him to a lounge chair in which he would be safest for the next couple hours (no one threw him a blanket). With the next hunting day only hours away and few guests left to bid a good night, she just slipped away to her car for a careful drive home. In the parking field, she was surprised to see Russ’s truck still there and assumed he was helping the Reads in the house.  It would be the first time she left a party before he did!

 

At the meet the next day, Marianne set up the stirrup cup and staff began to arrive: first Bill, then Andy accompanied by Samantha “Snoopy” Smart, his friend who is an investigator, then Russ with the hounds, followed by Becki and Michael. During announcements to the field, Marianne explained the draws, the number of hounds, thanked the Reads for the invitation for the hunt breakfast and the wonderful dance party the night before. She welcomed the local police officer, Amanda Wrights, who rarely got to hunt. She noted three or four members missing (the Benhams, whose property is between Gillian’s and the Reads’; Bunny, Garrett, and TeriLyn); who had not yet arrived but were expected to join the hunt field based on what they said at that party.  She asked the field to keep an eye out for them to prevent them from getting in the hounds’ way (or in Russ’s way).

 

Hounds moved promptly at 2:00 pm, and Russ drew the long woods going north. As usual a couple sporting rabbits ran nice loops up and down the woods. When the lines got muddled due to crisscross traffic of an hour, Russ moved east to the open fields behind the barn, in the direction of the Benhams’ and Gillian’s farms. Someone then spotted a figure walking along the far edge of the Benham’s woods, from the direction opposite the meet. He was recognized immediately as Garrett, and someone quietly commented it was no surprise to find him showing up where he didn’t belong. Gillian retold the members of the field about her first encounter with Garrett and subsequent calls he made to her. “He is a likely a poacher but also a trophy hunter, and he told me his plan to start a hunt club for other trophy hunters. He is seeking properties with exclusive hunting rights. Beware…”  Marianne wondered out loud if he had slept in the Reads’ back yard and noted to the field it was improper and rude to arrive late and worse yet, join the hunt from the “wrong” side of the huntsman and hounds.  If he messed up the quarry, Russ would kill him, and she would be happy to help.

 

Garrett slipped into the woods, and although Andy was a great distance from the field, some members saw Andy follow Garrett. Marianne wasn’t too worried as she knew Andy would politely greet him then simply direct him back to the field. Andy was catching on quickly to the ways of the sport and ever being a hero of the day, he could politely explain our presence to a landowner or farm manager to keep good relations. She turned the field’s attention back to the hunt. A minute or two passed, and she heard a shot from the woods. She assumed Andy caught one of the young hounds going away on off-game, so Andy stopped the youngster quickly and decisively. Later at a check, Andy would relay the info that mattered to Russ. Mark was closer to the field than to Russ, so he took the opportunity to show everyone recent photos.

 

All hounds were “on.” Russ chose to draw the fence line on the west which divided the property from the Bryants, rather than move to the woods where Garrett might have disturbed game.  This draw would also take the hunt to a close at the Reads’ garden area and house, since they had been out a nice hour and a half and it was hot. Hounds pushed out a rabbit which ran up the fence line almost to the dance floor at the garden, and it then turned hard left through the fence into the Bryants' field. A couple hounds followed but the majority of the pack raised their noses and checked. Despite Russ cheering them on toward the Bryants,' the hounds started working in the opposite direction, toward the old rockpile and sinkhole. They locked onto the line but did not speak as they worked it feverishly.

 

Whatever they found had their attention more than any rabbit!

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Stand by for what occurred next............

 

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