A Basket of Trouble (19 page)

the picnic tables and waved to Ana and Petey. “I’ll be with you in a minute.”

When Brittany finished tying Daisy to the corral fence, Petey

went immediately to the horse. He cooed at Daisy and rubbed her

forehead. Daisy nuzzled the boy’s head as if she, too, had missed seeing him.

Claire arched a brow at Brittany and glanced at Ana with cu-

riosity, but didn’t say anything. She figured Jessica should be the first one to talk to Ana.

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While Jessica gave Robin’s father a report on her session, Robin

returned to the corral and stood next to Petey, petting Daisy’s

neck. The two young people stole glances at each other, and Robin smiled shyly.

Ana stepped forward after Jessica finished her report, her

hands clenched in front of her. Claire joined them, too. Acting as if nothing was wrong, Jessica introduced them both to Robin’s father. During the pleasantries, Claire noted how nervous Ana ap-

peared. Rightly so, given how mad she had been the last time they had seen her.

Jessica smiled over at the two young people vying for petting

space on Daisy’s neck and forehead. “Petey and Robin, since you

both like Daisy so much, you should say hi to each other,” she said loudly so they could hear her. “You have something in common.”

Petey ducked his head and peeked up through his lashes at

Robin. “Hi,” he said shyly.

“Hi,” Robin said back.

When they both seemed to be at loss for what to say next, Brit-

tany stepped in with two mini carrots. “Why don’t you both give

Daisy a treat? Robin, do you want to go first?”

After watching Brittany make another attempt to get Robin

and Petey interacting with each other, Robin’s father said, “I like seeing Robin make friends with someone like herself. Mind if I go over there and help them along?” He looked at Ana.

“That would be very nice,” Ana said with a smile. “Thank you.”

After he left, she took a deep breath and turned to Jessica. “I

heard about Gil Kaplan’s death when a reporter from the Gazette

called me for a statement. Mr. Bradshaw made it sound like Gil

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committed suicide because he felt guilty about killing Kyle. Is that true?”

“That’s what Detective Wilson thinks happened,” Jessica said.

“Gil left a suicide note that said he hit Kyle in the head while they were arguing.”

Ana looked pained. “What were they arguing about?”

“Kyle was going to tell Charley about Gil’s drinking and slack-

ing off work,” Jessica explained. “Charley already knew Gil drank sometimes, but he thought Gil had it under control. And as far as we knew, Gil never fought with anyone at work until the day before yesterday when Claire saw him get into a scuffle with Pedro.

Charley fired Gil that afternoon, which may have contributed to

his suicide. Charley’s really upset about it.”

Claire jumped to Charley’s defense. “Gil didn’t say that in his

note, and Detective Wilson said he was pressuring Gil since he was the last one to be with Kyle. Wilson thought that might have been what drove Gil over the edge.”

“Regardless,” Jessica looked from Claire to Ana, “the police

think Gil killed Kyle, not Gunpowder. Gunpowder was just a

clumsy ruse used by Gil to try to cover up what he’d done.”

Ana exhaled and gave a quick nod. She swallowed and un-

clasped her hands. “Emilio and I owe you and Charley a huge

apology. I’m so sorry we jumped to conclusions and blamed the

horse—and you—for Kyle’s death. Can you forgive us?”

“Of course.” Jessica gave Ana a hug then drew back with her

arms still around the woman. “You were grieving, and it looked

like Gunpowder did it at first.”

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Ana wiped a tear from her cheek. “We were angry, so angry that

our son was taken from us at such a young age. You and Charley

were the closest targets.”

“I know,” Jessica said softly, dropping her hands and stepping

back.

“But we should’ve known better. We know you both, how safe

you are with the children,” Ana turned and swept a hand toward

Petey and Robin. “We should’ve known you wouldn’t keep a dan-

gerous horse at the stable. I’ll call our lawyer and tell him we want to withdraw the lawsuit.”

Claire clapped her hands together and brought them to her

chin.
Hallelujah!

“Thank you, Ana.” Jessica hugged the woman again. “Thank

you so much. Charley will be so relieved. The lawsuit has hung

over him like a thundercloud.”

Ana’s face crumpled in distress. “Again, I am so sorry for the

trouble we caused you both. I apologize for my hurtful words last week.”

“Apology accepted, and we certainly understand,” Jessica re-

plied.

Claire had a thought. “You’ve already done so much, and I hate

to ask another favor, but will you also have your lawyer contact the city? Tell them you no longer want Charley’s contract cancelled?”

“Oh, yes.” Ana turned to Jessica. “And may Petey start his ses-

sions again? He has missed Daisy almost as much as Kyle.” She

swallowed again and took a moment to compose herself. “And

now we have no one to take care of Petey when Emilio and I are

gone. We had counted on Kyle to do that since our daughter has

cut us out of her life.”

157

Jessica’s eyes widened in surprise. “I didn’t realize you had a

daughter, too.”

Ana nodded. “Sophie was born in between Kyle and Petey. She

was only two when Petey came into our lives and took up so much

of my time. She got lost in the shuffle, probably felt unloved. She got into trouble as a teenager.” Ana sighed. “I blame myself for not seeing that she resented Petey and all the attention he was getting.

She moved to California and now has no contact with us.”

“None at all?” Claire asked.

“Kyle tried to call her a few times, talk her into returning to

the family. But the last time, she yelled at him, said that between Petey being the baby and him being the star of the family, no one paid any attention to her. So why should she pay any attention to us now?”

“Oh dear.” Claire could see some parallels between Sophie’s

words and Charley’s about Claire getting all the attention from

their parents.

“Does Sophie know about Kyle’s death?” Jessica asked.

“I left a message on her answering machine. But she hasn’t

called back.”

Jessica put a hand on Ana’s shoulder. “Do you think she’ll come

to Kyle’s memorial service?”

Ana shrugged. “I told her when it will be in the message, but I

don’t know if she’ll come.”

“Maybe this will be the push she needs to reunite with her fam-

ily,” Claire said hopefully.

“We can hope, but I doubt it.” Ana looked at Petey with sad

eyes. “We can’t bring his big brother or sister back to Petey, but I hope we can bring Daisy back into his life.”

158

“Of course we can,” Jessica said. “And maybe even right now.

Claire, can you stay for another session?”

“I’d love to,” Claire replied. And then she was going to have a

talk with her brother.

———

After Petey’s session, Claire and Brittany took Daisy back to the barn. While they were caring for the horse, Claire overheard Charley and Jorge talking in the treatment area. They had Gunpowder

tied up in there and were standing off to the side and studying the horse. Gunpowder kept shuffling his feet and swinging his head, as if he couldn’t keep still.

“He was doing so well,” Charley said. “What do you think

caused this backslide?”

“Don’t know,” Jorge said. “I noticed he was getting more sensi-

tive to anyone touching his rear end a couple of days ago.”

“Look at his ears, how they’re laid back. And his swishing tail.

He’s angry about something.”

“Or something is bothering him, like maybe he’s in pain.” Jorge

paused then snapped his fingers. “Maybe this has nothing to do

with Kyle. Maybe he has a sore somewhere we can’t see—like un-

der his tail.”

“You could be right. But there’s no way he’ll let either of us

examine him there without being tied up. We’ll have to get help.”

Charley stepped out into the aisle and yelled, “Hank!”

When he got no response, he said, “Where’s he gone off to?”

“He never seems to be around when I need help with Gunpow-

der,” Jorge said. “Maybe he’s afraid of him now.”

159

Charley slapped his thigh. “That’s just plain dumb.” He spied

Brittany and Claire and waved at them. “You two about done with

Daisy? Could you lend us a hand?”

“Sure,” Brittany answered.

Claire followed her into the treatment area, where Jorge posi-

tioned them on either side of Gunpowder’s head with a ready sup-

ply of carrots. While they cooed to the horse, fed him and petted him, Charley and Jorge made quick work of tying off his back legs so Gunpowder couldn’t kick them.

Jorge gently lifted Gunpowder’s tail.

The horse’s eyes rolled back. He pushed his weight off his front

legs, as if preparing to buck. But his back legs yanked at the ties, which held, and they went nowhere. He floundered and struggled

to regain his footing. Brittany held his bridle tightly to keep his head level.

Once Gunpowder had regained his footing, Claire held out a

carrot on her palm under his nose. But the horse wanted nothing

to do with it. Instead he let out a loud squeal of protest.

“Whoa boy, whoa there.” Charley ran his hands along Gun-

powder’s shivering flank while Jorge stood motionless, Gunpow-

der’s tail half-raised in his hand. When the horse had quieted,

Charley nodded to Jorge. “Try again.”

Jorge slowly lifted the tail higher while Brittany and Charley

kept up a steady stream of calming words and Claire rubbed Gun-

powder’s neck. The horse shifted nervously, but he seemed to realize he could go nowhere. He gave a loud snort and stopped pulling against the restraints. He made do with expressing his displeasure by stomping his front feet and blowing and snorting.

“Watch your feet,” Brittany warned.

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Claire stepped back, but stayed within arm’s length of Gun-

powder so she could continue to soothe him.

Jorge ducked his head then let out a low whistle. “Get a flash-

light, Charley, and look at this.”

Charley grabbed a flashlight off the built-in shelves along the

back wall of the treatment area. He shone it on the area of Gun-

powder’s rump under his tail and leaned down next to Jorge.

Jorge pointed. “See these three wounds?”

“Yeah, and they’re infected,” Charley said. “I’m surprised we

didn’t smell it before.”

“From the amount of pus and the scabbing,” Jorge said, “I’d say

these wounds are over a week old.”

“Looks like punctures. And they’re in an almost straight verti-

cal line.” Charley stood and stared at Jorge. “What caused this?”

Jorge measured the gap between the wounds with his thumb

and forefinger then stood with them held that width apart. He

studied the gap for a moment. Then he let go of Gunpowder’s tail

with his other hand and walked to where the mucking tools were

stored. He lifted a three-pronged hay rake and held it up to his

thumb and forefinger.

The widths matched.

“Some
bastardo
poked him with one of these,” Jorge said. “And under the tail, where it wouldn’t show. That’s why Gunpowder is

so touchy.”

“Shit. I’ll call the vet to come treat him,” Charley said. “We’ll probably need to dose him with antibiotics, too.”

“While we are waiting for the vet, I can try to clean the

wounds,” Jorge said, “as long as you three are here to calm him. We need to get that pus out of there.”

161

Claire had been thinking during this exchange. “I think you

should wait on that, Jorge. And you’ve got another call to make,

Charley.”

“To who?”

“Detective Wilson. He’s going to want pictures of Gunpowder’s

wounds for his case file. If they’re over a week old like Jorge said, then Gil must have lied in his suicide note. He must have dragged Kyle into Gunpowder’s stall and poked him with the rake to get

him to stomp on Kyle.”

Brittany gasped.

Jorge nodded. “That makes sense. I couldn’t figure out why

Gunpowder would stomp on Kyle, even if Kyle dragged himself

into his stall. But if Gunpowder was being poked with the rake and feeling pain, all he would think about is trying to get away from the person torturing him.”

“Poor guy.” Charley massaged Gunpowder’s flank. “We’ll get

you fixed up soon.” He went off to make the phone calls while the others kept the horse calm.

When Charley returned, he said, “Detective Wilson said you

could clean the wounds, Jorge. He said you’re probably as good a

judge as a horse vet of how old the wounds are. But he said not to bandage them before he takes photos. He needs to know the depth

and width of the punctures. And we’re in luck with the vet. He’s on another call at a private stable near here and said he’ll stop by once he’s done there.”

Claire, Charley, and Brittany spent the next twenty minutes

keeping Gunpowder calm while Jorge cleaned and flushed the

wounds with antiseptic soap and warm water. Detective Wilson

and the vet arrived at about the same time. After Wilson took pho-162

tos and measurements and wrote down Jorge’s and the vet’s state-

ments about the approximate age of the wounds, the vet went to

work.

He gave Gunpowder a shot of painkiller followed by one con-