Reining in Murder (30 page)

He stepped down amid a number of other shouted-out questions. Apparently, CW had brought his bear-shooting fan club with him. Annie glanced over at her seated companions. They all rolled their eyes in unison.

* * *

An hour later, Annie emerged from the Grange, genuinely happy that she had attended. It had been good to catch up with her riding friends. And a few private words with Sergeant McCready had allayed the fears that good ol' CW had tried to fan. She unlocked Wolf's crate in her flatbed and whistled for him to join her in the front seat. It was only seven o'clock, but darkness had stolen over the mountains while she was inside. To her surprise, she was among the last to leave. Her horses would be anxious to be fed at this unconscionably late hour.

She turned on her headlights and started to back her car out of the parking lot. A moment later, she slammed on the brakes. Something had scurried behind the truck. It was too dark to see what it was, but she knew it wasn't a deer. Maybe a lost dog? Annie got out and told Wolf to stay. She rescinded her order a second later. This was not the time to be investigating in the dark by herself.

She stood still outside the passenger seat, trying to pierce the pitch-black night with her eyes. The county was notorious about putting in street lamps even in populated areas, and Annie cursed the government entity that had decreed the Grange had no need for overhead lighting. She turned and scrounged around inside the truck and retrieved an LED flashlight, mercifully still charged.

When she turned around again, she heard a small, breathless noise. It appeared to be coming from the bushes behind the Grange. She gave Wolf the signal to “find” and slowly stepped forward, her flashlight shining directly in front of her.

A whimper, undeniably human, emanated from the rear of the building.

“Who's there?” Annie's voice rang out in the cold night air. She sounded surprisingly authoritative.

Silence. Annie crept farther in, and Wolf began his signature long, slow growl. She poised herself on the south side of the building, flattening herself as much as she could, then thrust the flashlight around the corner.

“Who's there?”

“No shoot! No shoot!”

Annie deflected the light to the ground, to the place the words seemed to be coming from. Huddled in a worn jean jacket, a thin Hispanic man crouched on his knees, his hands held out in front of him in supplication.

“Juan! What are you doing here?”

At the change in her voice, Juan put trembling hands over his face. Annie crouched beside him, all trepidation gone.

“Juan, it's only me, Annie. Remember? I brought the horse to the ranch last month? Along with the donkey?”

Juan looked up, fear etched into his face. He was terrified at her presence, she realized. He hadn't understood a single word she'd said. She wasn't sure he even recognized her.

“Are you okay?”

It was perhaps the one American phrase Juan understood, and he nodded, although he looked anything but okay to Annie.

“Where have you been?”

She received a blank stare in return. Racking her brain, she tried again.

“¿
Dónde has estado?
”

But at this, Juan gave a sudden yelp, pulled his jacket tightly around him, and fled across the street, into the small community park across from the Grange.

Straightening her legs, Annie watched Juan flitter his way through the trees. She had no intention of following him. She motioned for Wolf to come and slowly walked back to her truck.

* * *

Against her better judgment, she called Dan after feeding the horses, none of whom appeared pleased to be dining at the same hour as their European counterparts. Pouring herself a scotch, she sat down at the kitchen table for what she hoped would be one phone conversation with Dan in which they both hung up at the same time.

For once, Dan didn't interrupt or berate her for giving her information about a case he was desperate to see the back of. He listened intently as she described how she discovered Eddie Trueblood's identity and her chance encounter with Juan just one hour ago.

“I'll send my boys out tonight to comb the park to see if we can reel in Juan. And good work on IDing the bushy-eyebrowed stranger. You've just saved me a pile of time. I'll pick up those color copies you made tomorrow morning and throw together a lineup. Looks like we've connected at least one piece of the puzzle concerning Wayne Johnston's wild ride.”

“You mean, you think there's more to it?”

“I'm sure there is. I'll be bringing Mr. Trueblood in for questioning just as soon as I get Millie to make the ID. Tony and I aim to lean on him until he tells us who was involved in his little scheme.”

“Do you think Eddie was involved in Hilda's death?”

“Could be, could be. I'm pulling Wayne's cell phone records as we speak. And I haven't ruled out Latham, either. What with Juan now within grasp, we just might be able to put
all
the pieces together before too long.”

Including the mystery of what happened to Marcus,
Annie thought. She realized that Dan had not once thrown in Marcus's assured culpability into the conversation. Perhaps he was finally seeing reason. But should she tell him what she suspected about the voice message? No. Not yet.

Still, heartened by their return to mutual civility, Annie decided to take the plunge and tell Dan about the shot that had whizzed by her just yesterday morning.

“I'm certain it wasn't from my neighbor,” she told Dan. “Lord knows Chris loves to shoot off his guns, but I usually only hear him on Sunday afternoons, and he's a stickler for gun safety. Besides, he usually empties a clip at a time. This was a single shot.”

The sheriff was uncharacteristically silent on the other line.

“Dan?”

“Annie, I want you to listen very carefully to me. I know you like to go off and do things your way, but until we know exactly what part Eddie Trueblood played in all these homicides, I want you to be extra careful, you hear me? Don't take any unnecessary chances.”

Annie felt like Hannah after being told to be sure not to get stepped on by Bess's huge hooves. She bit her tongue.

“I am, Dan. I've got my Winchester and my dog by me at all times. And there's nothing more that I can do, anyway. I'm fresh out of clues.”

“Keep it that way, Annie. I worry about you.”

* * *

She was bone-tired, so tired, in fact, that it took all her energy to rummage around her bedroom to find an old manila envelope in which to place the yearbook photos of Eddie Trueblood. Her bedroom was beginning to resemble Lavender's before she left, Annie thought, but oh well. She shoved the yearbook photos inside the envelope, scrawled “Dan” on the outside, and set it outside by her kitchen door, underneath the eaves in case it rained.

She only saw the blinking red light on her answering machine when she picked up her empty glass of scotch to put it in the kitchen sink. She had two messages. The first was from James Fenton, telling her that he had received advanced notice that the court intended to make Hilda's will available to him early next week. He hoped that the contents would not have a bearing on the expected release of funds from Marcus's account. He would continue to keep her informed. The second phone call was from Todos, who respectfully asked if she would be available to come to the ranch tomorrow at ten, when insurance agents would be present to appraise the animals. If it was too much trouble, he would understand. But since she was the horses' executor, he knew she would want to know, and he would be grateful if she could find the time to be there.

Annie went to bed feeling more lighthearted than she had in days. She was frankly glad to hand over the case to Dan again. Her days of private investigation had brought out more questions than she had answers to, although she felt certain that ultimately Marcus would be cleared. She only hoped he would eventually be found.

In the meantime, she was content to return to doing what she loved most: being in the company of horses . . . even if it meant having to deal with the oh-so-mighty Todos. She pulled out the files she'd made of Hilda's pedigreed horses, pulled her coverlet over her knees, and began to read.

W
EE
H
OURS
O
F
M
ONDAY
, M
ARCH
14
^TH

For once, Annie had neglected to put her cell phone on vibrate before turning off the light. So when the shrill “brrring brrring” pierced her bedroom at 4:13
A.M.
, she yelped and jumped up as if she'd been stung by a wasp. She grabbed the phone and peered at the time illuminated on the screen.
What the hell? Not another horse accident, please dear God
. She jabbed the “answer” button and tried to speak as if she were awake.

She soon was.

“Annie speaking.”

“It's Tony.”

“Another horse wreck?”

“Worse. Colbert Farm is going up in flames. Hilda's residence is nearly consumed and Leif's not sure he can contain it. We're getting outside help but even so . . .”

His unanswered sentence spoke volumes. Annie could think of only one thing.

“Tony, there are eighteen horses in those stables!”

“Don't I know it! They're already spooked and there's no place to put them.”

Annie spoke without thinking.

“Yes, there is. The paddocks in the pastures. They all connect with each other and should be downwind from the fire. Open
all
the gates. I'm on my way.”

She didn't wait for an answer before hanging up.

Annie later couldn't remember putting on her clothes. She only remembered shouting at Wolf to stay inside as she leapt into her truck and seeing him slither into the back cab.
Damn.
There was no time to entice him back into the house. There was no time at all.

Annie seldom exceeded the speed limit but tonight she tore through pitch darkness punctuated by roaming herds of fog as if it was the brightest day in June. She needn't have worried about being stopped by the State patrol; Sheriff County vehicles, fire trucks, and EMT vans zoomed by her as if she were standing still. She barely had time to move over to the shoulder of the road before the endless string of emergency vehicles disappeared from sight.

The flames appeared a half mile before the turnoff on Myrtle Road. They soared above the fir trees surrounding Hilda's house, and had turned the normally black sky into an eerie orange-red color that reminded her of a painting she'd seen in one of Travis Latham's art books—Edvard Munch's
The Scream.
Which is exactly what she expected to hear upon her own arrival—the high-pitched hysterical screams of eighteen horses imprisoned in their stalls, smelling the smoke, feeling the fire, and mad with fear.

The electronic gate was wide open and Annie roared through before she heard the bullhorn behind her ordering her to halt. She stomped on her brake so abruptly that Wolf's body hurtled from one end of the cab to the other. Annie turned instantly to see what damage she had done to her dog but had no chance to investigate. A State trooper was beside her window, rapping loudly on the window. Annie rolled down the window and shouted out, “Annie Carson. Suwana County Horse Rescue Brigade. Here at Deputy Elizalde's request.”

The trooper immediately pointed with one long arm to the arena-stable area, where she could see a bevy of firefighters quickly unwinding and spreading their hoses.

“Back up past the gate and leave your vehicle there. We don't know how far this will spread.”

Annie nodded her understanding and put her truck in reverse, but not before telling Wolf to lie down. She was relieved to see him do so quickly and obediently. Once parked, she bolted from the cab and made no effort to keep him inside. Wolf had no business here, but there was no way in hell she was going to leave her dog in a locked vehicle in a roaring fire zone.

She ran up the hill and found Tony talking to Leif. As she'd predicted, the sounds of frantic whinnies and high-pitched squeals emanated from the stalls staggered around the arena. She rushed out and down to the pasture paddocks. She'd remembered how impressed she'd been on her first visit here by the interlocking paddocks weaving throughout the massive pasture, even as she bemoaned the fact that each horse was sequestered in its own private space.

Well, now the horses were going to get to know each other, she thought, like it or not. And Tony had done what she'd asked. Each paddock gate now was wide open, so that the horses had free range of the pasture.

She dashed up the hill and into the arena. Glancing around wildly, her eye fell on the storage room where all the Timothy hay was stacked. She'd been so impressed by this, as well. Now all she could think about was that once a traveling cinder alighted on a single bale, the whole room would turn into a blazing conflagration that would spread to the stalls in a nanosecond. Gauging from the smoke infiltrating the arena, it could happen any minute. Her throat already was raw. And the heat from the fire a quarter mile away was gaining. It was a slow, thick heat, the kind Annie imagined Dante describing in the seventh circle of hell. The time left for saving the horses was dwindling. It might already be gone.

She raced to the tack room, grabbing ropes wherever she saw them, then weaved her way through the dozens of firefighters who were expertly doing their jobs.

Approaching one, she shouted, “Sprinklers! The arena has a sprinkler system!” And was she seeing things? Juan, the missing Juan Salazar, was standing beside her.

“Juan!” she shouted. “Turn on the
agua
!” She thrust her arm toward the arena roof. “Aquí!”

Juan nodded and scurried off.
Thank God there was one man on the place who knew where the instrumentation was,
she thought. But where was Todos? He should have been loading the horses into Hilda's trailers long before she ever arrived. Had he been caught in the fire back at Hilda's? But why would he be there at all? Wasn't Hilda's residence off-limits to the staff?

Then it struck Annie. The hay. So much hay that it could, and probably would, turn the stables into a massive firestorm at any moment. The twelve-foot stacks had been there the day she'd discovered Hilda's body.
So why did Todos have to go to Eastern Washington to get more?

She had no time to think about it. Wending her way through the crowd of firefighters, she saw Dan talking intensely with Harrison County's fire chief. Annie was sure Dan was glad for the help, but even in this worst of crises, territorial issues had obviously emerged.

“I'm telling you,” said the chief, “It's impossible to isolate the fire at its place of origin. Whatever accelerant was used has caused a perfect storm.”

“The Sam Hill it has!” Dan sputtered back. “Our boys extinguished the arc around the Colbert residence soon after their arrival. We expected you to clear out the remaining incendiary material. But it looks like whatever's left is now about to take over the barn.”

“It's not our fault, Dan! There's a grove of fir trees lining the property line between house and stables. We can't account for every single cinder that's fueled by the debris on the ground. If you'd called us a half hour earlier . . .”

“I only found out about this fire a half hour ago. Now let's quit arguing and you go back and do whatever you can to keep this heat from the horses.”

Turning aside, he saw Annie, and snapped, “What took you so long?”

Annie decided that at this moment in time she would be mature. It might be the only time in her life, but eighteen equine lives were at stake, and she didn't want to waste time badgering about irrelevant issues, such as how she felt she got here at warp speed. Still, curiosity couldn't keep her from asking a few questions now.

“So it's definitely arson?”

“Most definitely. Fire alarm in the residence and the barn dismantled, no sign of fire extinguishers in either place, which I know were here before, and clear signs of gasoline spread around the house. Can't get more obvious than that. As far as I'm concerned, we won't have need to call in Harrison County's fire scene investigator.”

Suwana County had no such position. It was a sore point with Dan.

“Any suspects?”

Dan glared at Annie. “The usual. Everyone who's missing. Juan. Marcus. And now Todos. Haven't seen his hide since I got here. Now don't start looking at me like that, Annie. . . .”

“Juan's here.”

“
What?
Juan? Here?”

“Yes, and he's just turned on the arena sprinkler system. So if all the fire alarm systems were turned off, how'd you even know about the fire?”

“Security system in Hilda's house. Operator on call alerted us. Now let's go fetch those horses. I hear you've got a mind to turn them out in the pastures.”

“Don't see any other solution at this point. Trailers are parked behind the barn and probably about a thousand degrees inside by now. Our best chance is hauling them down to the paddocks and just praying that the fire doesn't get that far.”

“Well, let's get to it.”

Annie stood rooted to her spot.
So why didn't the security go off the day Hilda died? Or did it, and Dan just decided not to share this little fact with her?

Dan strode over to the stall closest to the fire and yanked down the halter neatly hanging by the wooden door.

“No!” Annie screamed, suddenly back in the present. Dan turned to her with incomprehension on his face.

“Forget the halters! Nothing that has to be taken off! Nothing that can catch on fire.” She thrust a lead rope in a bucket of water and then into his hand.

“Do this with every lead you use. Just sling it over the horse's head. I'll get the next one. We need someone down by the paddocks to let the horses know they can get into the adjoining paddocks.”

Dan barked, “Tony!” into his squawk box.

“No!”

Dan again looked askance at Annie but kept his eyes locked on hers.

“We need Tony to help us move the horses. Anyone can open a gate. Is Deputy Lindquist here?”

Dan nodded abruptly, and issued the order.

“Lindquist, get down to the paddocks. We're bringing the horses down and need you to move them through. First two are on their way. Look for us coming down the hill.”

Kim Williams had somehow materialized beside them. “I may not know horses, but I can take directions.”

“Great,” Annie said with relief. “They'll want to bolt. Just keep a wet lead rope over them and try to keep up with them. A contained canter is the goal. Not likely, but we can try. And let's keep them all within sight of each other. They need to know they're going as a herd.”

Dan and Kim nodded dubiously. All around them, horses were rearing up, striking the stall walls with their hooves, and tossing their heads in fright.

“How the hell are we supposed to do this?” Dan asked with real fear in his voice, the first Annie had ever heard.

“Quickly.” Tony and Annie spoke at once. Annie moved first. She opened the stall door a foot wide, threw the rope around a Palomino's neck, kicked the door open, and started moving. The Palomino took all her strength to control, straining to get loose and run as fast and as far as possible.

“Get going!” she yelled back to the others. “I can't do this alone!”

It was all Annie could do to keep upright as the Palomino ran down the hill. Lindquist was right where he should have been, holding the paddock door open with the door leading into the next paddock wide open as well. Annie ran to the second gate and released her hold.

“Shut the gate until the next one gets here!”

That was thirty seconds later, as Dan, slipping and sliding down the hill, frantically tried to keep his arms around the wildly twisting neck of the black stallion, the one Annie had seen off by himself in a nine-foot high gate. She glanced at the rest of the fencing. Six feet high at the most. Most of the horses were capable of jumping that high, especially in their current frenzied state. She prayed that they wouldn't, opting to stay with the rest of the herd than risk individual flight.

She passed Kim and Tony leading the next two horses. Predictably, Tony exercised the most control over any of the horses so far moved, although Kim's handling of the seventeen-hand Warmblood was impressive.

That woman doesn't know the meaning of fear,
Annie thought.
And she's passing that onto the horse, whether or not she knows it.

“Why can't we just let them all loose?” Dan panted as he reached the arena, his hands resting on his knees as he regained his breath.

“Half of 'em would just head back to the stables,” was Tony's terse answer. “Let's go. Four down, fourteen to go.”

“Why?” Kim whispered loudly to Annie as she accepted another lead rope.

“Home territory. Place where they always felt safe. Hanging out in one big paddock is a brand-new experience for them. But unless one of them jumps a fence, they should be safe.”

Going into a stable with a crazed horse was sheer madness, Annie knew, but she knew of no other way to save them. There was no time to trailer them, and she had no idea if they would trailer easily or not in the midst of the pandemonium going on around them. The paddocks were not ideal—they, too, might be consumed by the fire, but there was no alternative space. By now, the sprinkler system was on full throttle, making the arena slushy, but it was reassuring to Annie.

“Spray the hay!” she screamed at a firefighter who was dousing the trees lining the northern-most door, the closest to Hilda's home. “And where's Juan?”

Juan, she was relieved to see, was now by the stables.