A Basket of Trouble (10 page)

Grim-faced, the patrolman took the wheelbarrow from Pedro.

He probably wanted to get cleaned up right away, too.

Wilson turned to the other detective. “Once Miss Schwarz

gets back, you can start with her in the trailer.” Then he addressed Phelps. “Ask everyone to come out here.”

As Phelps went back in the trailer, Claire saw the string of

horses appear from around a small rise to the west. Brittany fol-

lowed on her ATV.

After that, there was a flurry of activity as the trail ride re-

turned. Under the watchful eyes of the police, tourists dis-

mounted. They made their thanks and passed tips to the guides,

who unsaddled, brushed, watered and fed the horses. Hank and

Gil and the tourists shot curious glances at the police, but Jessica and Charley made of point of ignoring the officers. They kept up

a steady patter with the tourists, so none of them had a chance to ask about the police before they found themselves gently herded

into the parking lot.

Then the interviews started.

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When it was finally Claire’s turn for her private talk with De-

tective Wilson at one of the outside picnic tables, he said, “I won’t keep you long. Since you weren’t here Sunday night, you probably

won’t have much to add.”

“Oh, but I do,” Claire said, causing Wilson to raise an eyebrow.

“Did you know that Gil Kaplan has a drinking problem and a chip

on his shoulder about Mexican immigrants?”

“No, I didn’t. So you think Gil reacted to Mendoza’s Hispanic

surname even though Mendoza was born in the Springs?”

“You know, I’d suspect Gil more if Pedro or even Jorge was the

victim.” She described Gil’s treatment of Pedro on Tuesday. “Yes, Kyle was a US citizen, but maybe he and Gil got into it, too. That man seems to have a lot of anger in him.”

“I’ll look into it.”

“And I bet Charley didn’t tell you about the run-in he had with

the General Manager of Peak View Stables, thinking it had nothing to do with Kyle’s death.”

Wilson shook his head. “No, he didn’t. Could be nothing, but

tell me about it.”

“Tom Lindall would love to see Charley’s business just go away.

And what better way is there than to set up someone to be killed by one of the horses, then spread the word that Charley’s stable isn’t safe?” She described both the argument on the trail and Lindall’s follow-up visit.

After she finished, Wilson looked up from his notepad, where

he had been scribbling during her tale. “So you think Lindall was just pretending to be mollified by Charley and willing to work out a compromise?”

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Claire shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t know the man. But I do

know you. There was something about the autopsy findings that

you didn’t share with Jessica and me. What was it?”

“If I tell you, you can’t share the information with anyone, not

even your husband.”

“I promise.”

Wilson studied her then gave a satisfied nod. “I’m only tell-

ing you because you two and your brother and his wife are nei-

ther suspects nor witnesses. Your brother’s neighbors confirmed

that they were at your brother’s house until around eleven Sunday night. They brought a late dinner and a cake over to celebrate the opening then stayed to hear all about it.”

Thank God Charley and Jessica had an alibi.
Claire folded her arms. “So tell me.”

“The clincher for the murder determination,” he said, leaning

forward, “was that the coroner also found abrasions on the palms

of Mendoza’s hands, abrasions that are consistent with being

dragged. So, he concluded that someone hit Mendoza on the head,

knocking him unconscious. Then he dragged Mendoza into Gun-

powder’s stall and goaded the horse into finishing him off, making it look like an accident.”

“Oh, my. So that’s why you’re talking to Charley’s wranglers.”

“And anyone else who might have had a reason to kill Kyle

Mendoza.”

“That reminds me. I assume Brittany told you she was dating

Kyle Mendoza.”

“Yes, and that they weren’t serious.”

“Did she tell you that there’s also something going on between

her and this guy named Vince Donahue who works for Lindall?”

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“Nooo.” Wilson poised his pen over his notepad. “But some-

thing tells me you are.”

“Unfortunately I don’t know much. I’ve just seen them flirt

with each other.” She told Wilson about the encounter in the Gar-

den of the Gods Park and Vince asking to see Brittany when he

and Lindall came over.

She leaned forward. “I’ll be volunteering with Brittany again

on Saturday for Jessica’s hippotherapy nonprofit. I can ask Brit-

tany about her relationship with Vince then.”

“You stay out of this. I’ll ask her myself.” Wilson flipped the

cover over on his spiral notebook.

“She probably won’t tell you as much as she’ll tell me, woman-

to-woman.”

Wilson sat up straighter and focused his gaze on Claire. “I

know you want to be helpful, since your brother’s business is af-

fected, but I can’t allow you to go around asking questions. Any-

thing you find out would be inadmissible in court. And whoever

killed Kyle Mendoza is still out there. What happens if the killer finds you snooping around?”

“I’ll be careful. I’ll just bring things up in casual conversation, so no one will be suspicious.”

“Oh, c’mon!”

She put up her hands, palm out. “I’m not working for you, but

you can’t stop me, either. Look how much I’ve already found out.

Don’t you agree it’s useful?”

Wilson sighed. “Maybe. I’ll follow up on some of the things

you’ve told me, but I don’t want you putting yourself at risk. You’re not a trained detective like I am.”

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Claire crossed her arms. “Oh, you already made that abun-

dantly clear a few months ago.”

A small smile quirked up one side of Wilson’s lips. “I’m grate-

ful you’ve told me all this. And, if you happen to find out anything else useful by keeping your eyes and ears open, I want to hear it.

But don’t poke your nose where it doesn’t belong.” He stood. “I

wouldn’t want to see a single hair on your pretty little head come to harm.”

He walked out of the trailer leaving Claire fuming. W
hat a con-descending thing to say!

She had half a mind to engage in ‘snooping’ as he called it just

to spite him. But she didn’t need Wilson to give her a reason. She had enough of one. Charley’s business, his future, and his self-worth were all at stake in this. And if her little brother needed help, Claire was determined to offer it, whether he wanted it or not.

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six:

legal issues

Claire visited her mother Friday morning and left feeling

gloomy. Her mother was ensconced in an Alzheimer’s facility in

Colorado Springs and often didn’t recognize Claire anymore when

she visited. This morning, she had treated Claire as if she was one of the staff and kept asking what they were serving for lunch.

Claire made up something, sure her mother would forget anyway

by the time the meal was served.

When Claire walked into the Gardner’s Stables trailer, Jessica

was on the phone, talking about dozens of chocolate-covered

strawberries. Claire presumed the fundraiser caterer was on the

line. She waggled her fingers at Jessica and poked her head in

Charley’s office. He stopped his work on his computer to exchange hellos, and she gave him an update on their mother.

“I’m worried about her,” she said to Charlie. “One of the aides

told me she found Mom wandering the hallway late one night last

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week. Mom couldn’t tell her what she was doing there, and the

aide had to escort her back to her room.”

“That doesn’t sound good,” Charlie said with a frown.

“Could you visit her soon and let me know what you think?”

He sighed. “I’ll try. I know I should see her more often, but I

get so busy here that the days keep slipping by.”

Jessica hung up and called to Claire, ending the conversation.

While she and Claire prepared to go out on their postponed shop-

ping trip, Charlie went back to methodically clicking through e-

mail messages between sips of coffee.

Suddenly he slammed down the cup. “God damn it!”

Jessica scooted into the back office. “What? What is it?”

Dread made Claire break out in a hot flash, and sweat beaded

on her skin. She followed Jessica, flapping the front of her shirt to cool off.

Charley shoved his chair back and pointed to the computer

screen. “This email from the Director of the Colorado Springs

Parks and Recreation Department. It says he’s reviewing our

agreement allowing me to operate commercial trail rides in the

Garden of the Gods.”

Jessica leaned in to read the message on the screen. “ ‘… in light of recent events.’ What does he mean by that?”

“Kyle’s murder, I’m sure. It was in the
Gazette
today.”

Claire had read the article before coming over. The reporter

had insinuated that someone at the stable had done the deed.

When she had read the byline and recognized Marvin Bradshaw’s

name, a reporter she and Roger had had a run-in with before, her

hackles rose. She had made a mental note to contact him later and berate him for jumping to unfounded conclusions.

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“Do you think Ana Mendoza’s lawyer has contacted them?”

Claire asked.

“Probably.” Charley sank lower in his chair.

“Or could it have been Tom Lindall?”

“Maybe,” Charley said. “Or both of them. I’m going to call and

find out. Then give the director a piece of my mind. He can’t just break the contract at the drop of a hat.” He reached for the phone.

Jessica put a hand on his arm, stopping him. “Wait. You can’t

go charging in there like a bronc trying to throw a rodeo cowboy

like you always do.”

“I’ve got to do something!” Charley’s fist pounded the desk.

“But getting into a shouting match with the Director of Parks

and Rec is just going to make things worse. We need to think this through.”

For once, Claire agreed with her sister-in-law. “The last thing

you want to do is antagonize him, Charley.”

“What is this?” His face grew red. “Are you two ganging up on

me? I can’t ignore the director’s e-mail. If Ana’s lawyer or Tom

Lindall is feeding him a pack of lies, I need to make sure he knows the truth.”

“Yes, we do.” Jessica sat on his desk. “But we’ve got to be very

careful how we say it, in a calm and rational way, so he believes us.”

Claire had an idea. “Do you want me to contact Dave Redding?

With his legal background, maybe he can look over the contract

and let you know how it can be cancelled. Then he can coach you

in what to say.”

“What I want is for you two to stop yammering at me.” Charley

rose abruptly and slammed his cowboy hat on his head. “I’m going

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out to get some fresh air. I can’t think in here.” He stomped out of the trailer.

“Oh dear.” Jessica slumped into the chair that Charley had just

vacated. “I’ve got to convince him we’re right.”

Claire gazed thoughtfully at the door Charley had swung shut

with a loud bang. “You know, I think he’s got the right idea. He can blow off some steam working with the horses. Then when he does

call the director, he won’t be so upset.”

She fished in her purse. “I’ve got a couple of Dave’s cards in

here. I’ll leave one for Charley and maybe he’ll contact Dave for some advice.” She pulled one out and laid it on Charley’s desk.

“But what if he doesn’t?” Jessica asked. “And he calls and makes

things worse?” She stood. “I have to go talk to him.”

Claire put a firm hand on her arm. “No, Jessica. What you need

to do is go shopping with me. Give Charley some space. We need

to trust that he’ll do the right thing.”

Jessica snorted. “Charley? Do the right thing with no coaching

from me? Not very likely!”

———

When Claire drove back into the parking lot for Gardner’s Stables late that afternoon, Jessica’s and her excited chatter about their purchases died a slow death. Detective Wilson’s gray Dodge Charger sat in the parking lot.

He stood outside the corral, leaning against the fence with one

foot up on a rail. In deference to the warm day, he wasn’t wearing his suit coat and had rolled up the sleeves of his shirt. He was talking to Charley and Jorge, who were working with Gunpowder in-

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side the corral. They stirred up small dust clouds with their boots while they moved around the horse.

“Uh, oh. What now?” Jessica asked as she and Claire got out of

the car.

“Help me with this bear, then we’ll find out.”

Claire wrestled a three-foot tall carved wooden bear carrying a

Welcome sign out of the car trunk. Jessica had fallen in love with it, saying it would be a perfect greeter at the bottom of the trailer’s porch steps. When she balked at the price, Claire had insisted on buying it as a gift for the new business.

While Jessica hefted her end of the bear, she said, “I still say the gift basket was enough, Claire.”

“Oh, poo.” Claire huffed while they lugged the bear over to the

trailer. “Or Pooh Bear, as the case may be. The basket wasn’t a last-ing gift. This is. I’ll enjoy seeing it every time I come over.”

They set the bear down with a thump then Jessica hustled to-

ward the corral.

Claire followed a few steps behind. She wiped sweat off her

brow, though it would have evaporated soon. The dry June heat