A Basket of Trouble (24 page)

ready down two staff again, with Pedro gone. Another of my

wranglers is still green, having just started today. I need Jorge here.

I’d rather contact an immigration lawyer in town and see what we

can do. I think the laws are different if you entered the country legally than if you crossed the border illegally like Pedro did.”

“But that’s risky for Jorge,” Nancy said.

“We’ve got three days,” Charley replied. “Give me that time, at

least, to see if we can solve this.”

Jorge looked at Nancy for acceptance.

She sighed. “I guess so.”

Charley’s sad gaze fell on Jorge. “I don’t want to lose you, Jorge.

You’ve been a damn fine employee and a good friend. I rely on you for a lot.”

Jorge looked pained. “It hurts me to cause you so much trou-

ble, especially on top of your other problems.”

“And I just thought of another thing,” Charley said, with wid-

ening eyes. “I’ve been paying social security for both you and Pedro, and neither one of you will ever see any of that money.”

Jorge nodded. “The pay we get after taxes is still much more

than we would get in Mexico—if we could find the work. But I

have heard that ICE checks the numbers when they search a busi-

ness’s records, so that will tell them I am not legal.”

Charley exhaled. “And they don’t give employers any way

to check the numbers. Of course, if I had, I wouldn’t have hired

you—and benefited from your expertise.”

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“I am very, very sorry.” Jorge’s face screwed up as if he were in pain. “If the lawyer cannot help, I will leave before ICE returns, so you will not have to pay the fine for me.”

Rubbing his forehead, Charley grimaced. “I don’t know how

this stable can function without you.”

“This sucks.” Jessica said. “It’s not fair, not to you, not to us.

You’re just trying to earn a living, and we’re just trying to run a business.”

Everyone was quiet.

First Kyle, then Gil, then Pedro, and now Jorge,
Claire thought.

Charley’s stable was being decimated not only by loss of busi-

ness from news of the murders, but also by the loss of most of his employees. Only Hank Isley, part-time Brittany, and the new hire

remained. Thinking back on the murders reminded Claire that

Nancy hadn’t been completely ruled out as a suspect. Maybe she

could push some of Nancy’s buttons and see what came out.

“Nancy?” she asked. “I see you and Jorge are dating, but you

disapproved of Brittany dating Kyle Mendoza. Isn’t that a little unfair?”

Nancy frowned. “We’re completely different. I’ve already raised

my family, and I’m supporting myself since Brittany’s father and I divorced. I don’t need anyone to support me.”

“Neither does Brittany,” Claire said. “She seems like a capable

young woman who can support herself.”

Nancy snorted. “As a wrangler?” She glanced at Jorge. “No of-

fense, but I want more for Brittany, much more.”

“So you wanted to get Kyle out of her life.”

“Yes, and that damn Vince Donahue, too.”

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Nancy was getting emotional. Claire decided it was time to

move in for the kill. “Brittany told me that when you came to pick her up on the night Kyle was killed you went up to the port-a-potty. She couldn’t see you from the car, so you could have gone in the barn then, too.”

“Why? Jorge’s car was gone, so I knew he wasn’t there.”

“But Kyle was there. Maybe you wanted to get him out of Brit-

tany’s life, as you said.”

Nancy shot to her feet. “You can’t be serious. You’re trying to

pin his murder on me?”

Claire gave a theatrical shrug. “If the shoe fits.”

“Claire!” Jessica came around from behind her desk. “I don’t

know where this idea came from, but Charley and I don’t agree

with Claire, Nancy. Not at all.”

Damn.
There went all of the momentum out of Claire’s accusation. Her heart sank.

Nancy advanced on Claire, her face red and her hands balled

into fists. “I’m not a killer. I may not have liked Kyle, but I wouldn’t have killed him. No way.”

Claire held up her hands. “Okay, I’m sorry.”

Nancy wheeled on Jorge. “Come on. We’re getting out of here.”

Jorge rose and the two left, Nancy literally huffing as they

walked out onto the porch.

Charley followed and shook Jorge’s hand, holding on to it for a

long moment before releasing it. Claire inched past him to watch

Jorge and Nancy march toward the parking lot. Nancy’s stiff back

could reflect true indignation, or she was an awfully good actress.

Charley yelled after them. “We’ll make this work, Jorge!”

200

Jorge nodded then put an arm around Nancy. He bent his head

toward her, saying something that was obviously meant to calm

her.

Charley turned on Claire. “Why the hell did you say those

things to Nancy?”

A movement in the stable yard caught her eye. Hank Isley was

trotting toward the barn, from the direction of the back of the

trailer. She poked her head back in the trailer and saw that both the front and back windows were wide open, to let in the breeze.

She looked back at Charley. “A more important question is, did

Hank Isley just overhear our whole conversation?”

201

fourteen:

an informer

Claire’s mind was working faster than her fingers Tuesday morn-

ing. Sitting at the large oak table in her basement workroom, she was constructing a Denver Broncos gift basket for an avid fan. She had dyed a large bamboo basket just the right vivid orange to match one

of the team’s colors. Now she was braiding a navy blue ribbon

through the weave of the basket.

The braiding task left her mind free to review the potential sus-

pects in Kyle’s and Gil’s murders. The most likely one, and the one Detective Wilson was pursuing, was Oscar Vargas, the immigrant

smuggler. He had demonstrated the ruthlessness to kill at least

once before. Claire could see him going after Gil, if he thought

Gil had seen him kill Kyle. Or if he found out that Gil had threatened to take information about his smuggling ring to ICE. But as

Brittany had said, Vargas had no reason to kill Kyle, and he valued Kyle’s work for his ring.

202

Claire cut the ribbon and tucked the loose end into the weave.

She pulled a clear box labeled “Ribbons” off a plastic shelf. Plastic shelving lined two walls of the workroom. The shelves contained

baskets, packing and wrapping materials such as Spanish moss

and colored cellophane, fabric remnants, nonperishable food-

stuffs, and Colorado-themed gift items and trinkets. She pulled a white ribbon spool out of the box and started weaving it through

the basket alongside the navy. Her mind went to work on weaving

a case for another suspect.

Claire doubted that Nancy Schwartz had the upper arm strength

to deliver the fatal hammer blow to Kyle’s head. But if Gil’s suicide note was correct and he had struck Kyle, Nancy could have come

upon Kyle’s unconscious body in the barn and seized the opportu-

nity to eliminate her daughter’s unworthy suitor. Dragging him into Gunpowder’s stall and poking the horse with the hay rake would

have been an easy way to keep Kyle from wooing Brittany. Or to discredit Jessica’s nonprofit by making it seem like a dangerous horse was kept on the property.

Nancy had the opportunity, but she was also a horse lover.

Would she have injured Gunpowder to force the horse to cover

her tracks? Maybe. If she was incensed enough at Kyle—or Jessica.

Nancy had a temper, but she also seemed truly indignant when

Claire accused her.

Then there was Kyle’s rival for Brittany’s affections, Vince Do-

nahue, who had wasted no time moving into her life after Kyle was killed. He worked with horses, so he would have had no qualms

about going into Gunpowder’s stall. And he was a hunter, so was

familiar with guns and likely owned a rifle. Lastly, he worked for 203

Tom Lindall, who resented Charley’s intrusion into the Garden of

the Gods, which he viewed as his private domain for trail rides.

Claire snipped off the second ribbon and began stuffing white

and navy blue shreds into the bottom of the basket. If Hank Isley was the spy she suspected he was, he was working for Tom Lindall, too. Also, he had benefited financially from Kyle’s death by becom-ing the trail guide lead. He was pocketing large tips from the tourists, especially the women whom he enjoyed buttering up.

Of course, Tom Lindall could have killed Kyle himself, hoping

to discredit Charley’s stable by making it look like Gunpowder did it and Charley kept dangerous horses. Unlike the others, Lindall

probably had nothing against Kyle personally. Kyle may have just

been unlucky to be the last worker at the stable that night if Tom came by looking to sabotage Charley’s business. But there were

certainly easier and less lethal ways to sabotage a business.

Claire stopped and tapped her scissors against the table. But

why would any of these four kill Gil? If the killer was the one who both hit Kyle with a hammer and finished him off by dragging

him into Gunpowder’s stall, maybe he or she suspected Gil saw

what happened to Kyle. If Gil was still on the grounds at the time, that was likely. But why take the chance of killing Kyle with Gil still around? Claire didn’t think Gil really saw anything, because as Charlie said, he would have told the police, if only for self-preser-vation.

A new thought popped into her brain. What if the two deaths

were totally unrelated? Maybe one of these people killed Kyle and another killed Gil, each for their own reasons. And was anyone else capable of committing either murder that she wasn’t even considering?

204

She rubbed her aching head.
Oh, God, this is just too complicated!

Refocusing on the task at hand, she pulled over the stack of

Broncos gear she had gathered for the basket. She had bought a

Broncos official team hat, T-shirt, scarf, and socks. And since the woman receiving the basket was also a foodie and wine lover, Claire was including a Bronco’s salt and pepper set, cake decorating kit, wineglasses, corkscrew and wine stoppers. For an edible item, she had a bag of orange and blue raspberry-flavored Broncos-blend

popcorn from the Pikes Peak Gourmet Popcorn Factory.

She started arranging the items in the basket, and her mind

wandered back to the murders. The next step in the case was to

find the rifle that was used to kill Gil Kaplan. Whoever owned that rifle was likely his killer, and maybe also Kyle’s. Detective Wilson was the best one to go after Oscar Vargas, but maybe she could

sniff around, see if Tom Lindall or Nancy Schwartz owned any ri-

fles. Of course, Wilson could do that, too.

In fact, she chided herself, why did she think she could help

solve these murders anyway? It was his job, after all, not hers.

Just then her home phone rang, making her jump and knock

over the half-filled basket, spilling her careful arrangement and scattering her thoughts along with it.

One of the wineglasses rolled off the table, hit the carpet and

bounced. Claire lunged for it, but before she could catch it, the glass knocked against the table leg and cracked.

“Damn it!” She snatched up the phone. “Hello?”

“Mrs. Hanover? This is Frank Wilson calling.”

Not Detective Wilson, but Frank Wilson
. Interesting.
“What can I do for you?”

“Well, um, that’s why I’m calling. I have a favor to ask you.”

205

Something in his tone said that this was difficult for him. Ad-

mitting that he needed help from her. What in the world could she possibly do for him?

“What favor?”

“As you know, we’re trying to find out where Oscar Vargas lives

so we can get a warrant to search his place for the rifle that killed Gil Kaplan.” He paused and something rustled near the receiver.

Claire envisioned him pulling on his shirt collar. “Ye—es?”

“Both ICE and Colorado Springs PD have exhausted all our

means, including quizzing our street informers. And we have noth-

ing. No one can tell us, or is willing to tell us, where Vargas holes up.

Here’s where you come in. I know you and Leon Fox have a rela-

tionship. I was wondering if you could ask him.”

Claire thought about the flamboyant Colorado Springs drug

boss who had helped her solve the murder Roger had been ac-

cused of in February. Leon had admired her spunk and the two

had developed a strange friendship, based on the exchange of fa-

vors. And he was always looking for ways to secretly eliminate his competition. But …

“Why would Leon know where Vargas is?”

“There’s quite an overlap between drug smuggling and immi-

grant smuggling gangs. So Fox may have some contacts who know

Vargas—or he may know the man himself.”

“Okay, I’ll try him.”
God help me. I wonder what favor Leon’s going to ask for in return.

“Now, don’t put yourself in any danger.”

Claire pshawed. “I’m safer with Leon than anywhere else.”

Thanks. I appreciate it.
We
appreciate it.”

Claire knew that was hard for him to say. “I’m happy to help.”

206

After finishing the conversation with him, she righted the

Broncos gift basket. She replaced the spilled items, except for the wineglasses etched with the Broncos logo, one of which was now

cracked. She stood with it in her hand and thought about what

to do. She didn’t have time to order another pair. With a sigh, she pulled a bottle of Colorado wine off her shelves and put that in the basket instead. Tying some orange and blue curling ribbon around