Mercifully, Rob and Bess finally backed down when Harry made it clear he'd pull out all stops to keep his inheritance safe. They did make vague noises about suing, but when I threatened to countersue them for pain and suffering, they finally let the matter rest, much to everyone's relief.
With his future in safe hands, Pedro finally relaxed his grasp on life two days later, and at Harry's request, only myself, Castillo, and Potato attended. We buried him privately, making sure no one knew where his grave was, and afterwards, we retired to my wagon for a round of quiet drinks. I hadn't gotten to know my now late father-in-law very well, but all the same, I felt the sting of loss quite keenly, and I could tell Harry and Castillo were glad for mine and Potato's presence.
Eight months later, I gave birth to a son. There was no question what I'd name him, and it wasn't long before baby Pedro made fast friends with Potato, who took his new uncle duties very seriously. Pedro, for his part, took to Potato like a duck to water, which pleased me no end. Potato was, however, starting to show signs of ill health - a common problem for horses born runt sized - and I decided to ensure my son and my favourite horse spent as much time together as possible.
Sadly, eight months after Pedro was born, Potato passed away from natural causes. But he didn't die alone; I held his head in my lap the whole time, with Castillo and baby Pedro close by. Pedro had gotten very attached to Potato during their short time together, and when Potato took his last breath, my son reached out and gently patted his nose. "Spud," he said sadly, and I smiled through my tears. It was both heartbreaking and gladdening that his first word was the affectionate nickname I'd called Potato, and that was enough to carry me through the sad days as the circus family turned out to mourn the little gelding who'd made life such a joy. Unlike Pedro Snr's funeral, Potato's burial was a very public affair, and the entire town turned out to say goodbye. Potato had brought joy to so many, and it was heartening to see so many strangers come up and tell me how happy they'd been to see Potato doing all his tricks. And heartbroken though I was over Potato's passing, it made my heart sing to know just how many lives he'd touched.
Two lives, however, weren't touched; Bess posted a very hateful comment on the memorial page we'd set up for Potato after his passing, saying how glad she was the "hateful little bitch-bred mule" was gone. That got her a massive serving of angry reactions, as well as some quite heated comments, and, either shamed or embrassed over the negative reaction she'd gotten, she wisely deleted the comment. I then went ahead and blocked her from making any further distasteful statements, and, having already blocked her on all my personal socials, that was the last I ever heard from her again.
Until two months later, when news reached us in Richmond - two bodies had been retrieved from the river close to Jonesboro, and when they were identified as belonging to Bess and Rob, I was stunned. Shock soon turned to disgust when a sucicide note was found on the bank; Rob had never recovered from losing his business, and since Bess was starting to make noises about leaving him after years of abuse, according to local gossip, Rob had decided that, rather than let her go and live a life away from him, he'd take her with him. It had gone wrong, though; Rob had bite marks on his arms, as well as long, bloody scratches on his face, and under the shock and disbelief I felt, there was nevertheless pride that my sister had gone down swinging.
The autopsy revealed the truth; Rob had drugged Bess with the intent to see her unconscious so she'd drown quietly when he jumped into the river with her. Unfortunately, he hadn't drugged her enough; she'd woken up, panicked, and had put up a viscious fight to get back to the surface. Rob had been forced to overpower her, holding her under until she drowned, and then, perhaps realisng he could've got away with murder, had made a break for the surface. But he'd been almost at the bottom of the river, and in trying to escape, had somehow wound up with his leg caught in Bess's hand as she went into rigour. He'd ended up drowning as well, and I admitted to laughing when I finished reading the coroner's report. "Serves the slimy bastard right," I said, wiping mingled tears of laughter and grief from my eyes. "I hope he fucking suffered."
"Given his nature, it's karmic," Castillo agreed with a smirk. "Oh, to have been watching him, realising that, even in death, Bess was ready to give him what for. I do wonder how she managed to snag him, though."36Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡYW1TGpAPr2
"She faked me out once," I said, recalling an incident from our childhood. "We were in the pool, and when I came up after a swim, Bess remained underwater. I went back to try and drag her up, and I swear, my heart almost stopped when I saw her lying on the bottom of the pool, staring sightlessly up at the sky. You'd better believed I screamed bloody murder when she came back to life and tickled me, and then she had to drag me up to the surface after I forgot you're not supposed to scream while five feet underwater."
Castillo nearly doubled over with laughter. "So maybe she faked Rob out," he said. "Made him think she'd drowned, when in reality, she had just enough fight in her to make sure he wouldn't get away with murder."
"It's so her," I agreed, sighing. "Damn. Oh well. I'm sorry she died, but honestly? She and Rob were birds of a feather. I'm not saying she deserved to die, nor did she deserve to go the way she did, but I'm more relieved than anything else."
"I don't blame you," Castillo said, kissing me on the forehead. "Which reminds me. You know how we all believed our spud was gelded?"36Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ7YLRiddmpT
I frowned, and then my eyes went wide. "Wait," I said slowly. "You mean to tell me..."
"Billy Bob just brought word," Castillo said, rising and pulling me to my feet. "You have got to see this."36Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡdzIototBCz
