Saddled With Trouble (21 page)

TWENTY-SIX

MICHAELA MADE A QUICK STOP AT THE BARN TO feed the horses. Even though she had food on the brain she tried to give each horse down the aisle some special attention with love pats. Most of them nudged her hand away and tossed their heads. Even Leo had no interest in making nice. She was late, so she couldn’t blame them in the least. “I see how it is,” she sang out, tossing flakes of hay onto her wheelbarrow to make her rounds. “All you guys want is your chow. What am I? Chopped liver?”

Finished, she went on up to the house to reheat her dinner. While she nuked it she played her messages. One was from her mom just checking up on her, another from Ethan with basically the same message. The last caught her interest: “Hello. This is a message for Michaela Bancroft. My name is Henry Stein and I’m an attorney with Goldbloom, Richards, and Stein. Please call me at your earliest convenience. It’s in regard to your uncle’s estate.” Michaela jotted down the number. She tried to call, but no one was there. It was after hours. She’d try back tomorrow. Wonder what the attorney wanted?

The microwave buzzed. Ah yes. Food! She pretty much shoveled the Chinese food into her mouth, except for half the egg roll, which she shared with Cocoa, who was acting a bit neglected. She tossed the ball for her a few times and watched as her old dog jiggled across the family room to retrieve it, until finally deciding she’d had her fill. Game over, Michaela knew it was time to get to baking. As much as she didn’t want to get up and make the tart, she’d promised her mom, so after cleaning up she went to work. She’d forgotten how therapeutic baking could be. No wonder when Mom was stressed-out she cooked and baked everything from one of Julia Child’s cookbooks.

Putting the finishing touches on the pear tart, she wondered what was going on with Camden and if she’d show up back at the house. They needed to talk. Michaela was setting the tart in the oven just as the phone rang. It was Joe. “Hey, Mick, I got something for you.”

“So soon?”

“What can I say? I got a cousin who’s got a friend whose sister works as a nurse for that Dr. Verconti.”

“You sure do have a lot of cousins.”

“I know. Lots of aunts and uncles, too. You know, we’re a good Catholic family. So, anyway, word is this Verconti is a pill pusher, you know. Hands out the Xanax, Prozac, Vicodin, and your uncle’s Ativan like candy. Your uncle never did come in to see him.”

“What?”

“According to the nurse, he called saying he was feeling all jittery and stuff, having panic attacks. The doc prescribed Ativan with a few refills.”

“Was there anything she said about how he heard about the doctor?”

“I thought of that, too. Nuthin’.”

“Weird.”

“I got something else for you, too. This one is bigger.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re right that there is some type of breeding scheme that’s been going on and I think I found out who’s behind it.” Michaela sat down at the kitchen counter, knowing Joe was about to tell him that he found out it was Brad. She sighed. “Well, I called up the owners of the mares and played like I was an investigator for the AQHA, and asked if they remembered if it was Lou Bancroft they spoke to and who sold them the breedings.”

“Yeah?” she asked with baited breath.

“They mostly said that he was the one, except two of them gave me a different name.”

“Whose name did they give?”

“That horse trainer of your uncle’s— Dwayne Yamiguchi.”

Michaela about dropped the phone. “No.”

“Yep. That’s what they said. Told me that Dwayne was the one who sold them the breeding for a discount. They sent the check to Lou rather than making it out to the ranch, which they thought was odd, but Dwayne apparently told them that was because Lou was changing the name of his business.”

“Wow, I hadn’t even thought about the fact that the checks were made out to my uncle personally.”

“Yeah. If you want my opinion, this guy Dwayne’s been the one takin’ your uncle for a ride and somehow wirin’ money from an account he likely opened maybe via the Internet. Still checking on all that, though. Anyway, I think this guy was pretending to be Lou on the phone when he talked to these folks, but it looks like he wasn’t as careful as he thought, and a couple of times he accidentally slipped his real name into the conversation. He probably got Lou’s social security number and private information and opened the checking account I’m still tryin’ to track for you, too. It ain’t hard to get people’s private info, and that guy was probably pretty tight with Lou, makin’ it easy for him. Also ain’t too hard to sign the checks and contracts in Lou’s name. Maybe the guy been planning on making a run for it with the dough. Whether or not he killed your uncle . . . I don’t know. Maybe he put Bean up to it and knew Bean wouldn’t do too well taking the fall. You got me.” Michaela didn’t say anything. “You okay, Mick?”

“I guess. Thanks, Joey. I appreciate it.”

“No problem.”

Michaela hung up the phone, stunned. It took her a minute to decide how to tell Detective Davis, but she had to call him
now
and tell him what she’d learned— of course, keeping Joe’s name out of it. To her dismay, she couldn’t reach Davis and instead left him a message to call her back.

Dwayne
, of all people? Why? But she didn’t have time to think about it as Camden stormed into the house. She walked up to Michaela and waved a file folder in her face. “You were right. Okay? I give in. You were freaking right— again!”

“Whoa. Wait. What the hell is going on, Camden? What are you talking about?”

“Kevin Tanner. Look at this. Look at what I found on his desk.” She tossed the file down onto the counter.

Michaela picked it up and thumbed through it. She had to sit down again. It was a set of plans. Her uncle’s name written across the top: LOU BANCROFT. Flipping through it, she saw that Tanner had detailed
every
dealing,
every
phone call, all conversations with her uncle, and
then
all conversations and correspondence with anyone he was working with in trying to take over Uncle Lou’s property. He included dates, too. The most disturbing date in the file was the day that her uncle was killed: four days earlier. Her uncle’s name was written next to the date with a red line drawn through it. Below that was scrawled,
Deal is closed
. Right below that note was another that read,
Call Cynthia Bancroft to see about negotiations
.

Michaela’s stomach twisted as she found sketches and drawings with plans as to what was to be done with the property. It included an eighteen-hole golf course, along with a spa and boutique hotel resort. She couldn’t believe any of this. “Oh my God.”

“You were right, and I feel like such an ass. The guy totally used me, and the worst part is, he plans to knock you off your property and spread his corporate crap everywhere. He bought that dairy farm with the intention of taking over this entire area.”

Michaela put an arm around Camden, who had changed her hair color yet again— now it was chocolate brown. “I have to ask you something.”

“What?” Camden looked at her, her lip quivering.

“I overheard a conversation you had the other night with Kevin about him being a ‘killer,’ and how easy it would be for him to take over the land since whoever it was you two were talking about was now gone.”

Camden shrunk back from her. “Wait a minute, you don’t think we were talking about Lou?”

“I hope not. But try and look at it from my perspective.”

Camden sighed. “When I referred to a piece of property Kevin had his eye on I was talking about a chunk of land owned by a competitor of his. Some guy who was just arrested for embezzling and making illegal real estate agreements. Anyway, both Kevin and this man bid on the same property recently, and Kevin lost. I was telling him that it would be easier to acquire that property now. I’m such a jerk for falling for that moron!”

“But, I also heard you tell Kevin that he didn’t have to worry about being a suspect.”

“Kevin was the one who squealed on the guy. He was trying to involve Kevin in his illegal deals. He wouldn’t do it, but that doesn’t make him a nice guy. He’s still a bastard.”

“You don’t think Kevin could have murdered my uncle since he wanted his property so badly? These plans indicate he had motive.”

Camden laughed. “The guy is afraid of his shadow. He’s an ass and made a fool out of me . . . but no, I don’t think he killed Lou. I think he sees an opportunity now to try and go after Cynthia, though.”

Michaela frowned. “I’m sorry I listened in on your phone conversation and that I ever doubted you.”

“Yeah well, I’m sorry I didn’t listen to
you
, and now we have the guy I was supposed to be in love with and vice versa trying to take over everyone’s land.”

“We’ll figure it out.” The timer went off on the oven. She took out the tart.

“Thanks for being a good friend.”

“You, too.”

“Listen, I need to go back over to Kevin’s and get some of my stuff. I’m also going to tell him that we’re onto him, and he doesn’t have a prayer of getting Lou’s land or yours!”

“Can’t it wait?”

“No. I don’t want anything left there.”

“I’ll come with you.”

Camden shook her head. ‘No, hon. You look tired.”

“But what if he tries to hurt you?”

Camden smiled. “You don’t know me as well as I thought you did. Tanner should be afraid I might hurt him.”

Before Michaela could further protest her phone rang again. Davis was on the other end. She explained what she’d discovered about the breeding scheme, including what she’d found at the dairy farm— the same
Peter Pan
book that Bean had been reading right before he
supposedly
offed himself.

“How did you get this information about Mr. Yamiguchi?” Davis asked warily.

“I can’t tell you that. But trust me, it’s the truth. Will you at least look into it?”

“All right.”

“I think that you should also know I suspect that my uncle’s wife is pregnant, and . . . well, I don’t think he was able to father children.”

“Why do you think she’s pregnant?”

“I saw a test in her wastebasket.” She knew how that sounded, but it was the truth and Davis needed to know. “I think that there’s more to my uncle’s murder and Bean’s suicide.”

“You’re a regular Miss Marple. Younger and uh, more attractive, but you certainly have done your share of detecting over the last few days, haven’t you?”

“I guess you could say that.”

“Maybe you should join the force. I have to tell you that I’m not pleased about your detecting. Murder is serious business. I don’t want you getting hurt and I think I can do my job without you putting yourself in danger.”

“I’m not in any danger.”

She heard him sigh on the other end of the phone. “I have to tell you that you’re making my job more difficult.”

“Don’t mean to, but I thought you should know all this.”

“Thank you for the information.”

“That’s it? ‘Thank you for the information?’ ” Michaela started pacing her kitchen floor.

“What do you want me to say?”

“I want you to go and question Cynthia Bancroft. I don’t know, maybe ask her if she killed my uncle or if her
lover
did. I also want you to see what was going on at my uncle’s ranch with the AI program. Also, there’s a big-time developer who wanted to buy my uncle out. Kevin Tanner. Have you talked to that creep?”

“You
have
been busy.”

Was he mocking her? Ooh, this guy knew how to get under her skin! “Obviously busier than you. You just want to sew this thing up, and I hate to tell you, Detective, I don’t think it’s as simple as it looks.”

“Why don’t you let me and my people decide that? I will look into everything you’re telling me. I’m not discounting anything you’ve said. It’s my job to try and take this type of information and sort through it. See where it all might fit. I am not putting you on the back burner. I promise.”

“I sure hope not.”

“I also have some news for you. About fingerprints on your pitchfork.”

Michaela calmed herself. She wanted to hear this. “You do?”

“Yes. It seems a Ms. Kirsten Redmond’s prints showed up along with yours.”

“Kirsten?”

“Yes.”

“Well, have you asked her about it?”

“I plan to. I can’t arrest her on anything. Not yet, anyway.”

“Not even for harassment?”

“She may have an explanation.”

“What kind of explanation?”

“We’ll have to wait and see. I haven’t reached her yet, but I will keep trying until I do. And, I’ll see what I can find out about Mr. Yamiguchi, as well as Mrs. Bancroft.”

“Thanks,” Michaela replied and hung up the phone.

Damn! Just when she thought she might have it all figured out, Davis sideswiped her with the news about Kirsten. None of it made any sense to her. None of it at all.

TWENTY-SEVEN

AFTER PERFORMING HER MORNING RITUALS, Michaela got ready for Uncle Lou’s funeral and put on a simple black dress. After today, she’d likely burn it. The stupid dress would hold too much pain. Strange thing to think about, but it was a reminder, and reminders carried plenty of weight with them.

She slipped into a pair of classic black pumps. Her hands shook slightly as she tried to apply a little makeup. She pulled her hair back into a sleek, low ponytail and tied it up into a chignon. Today would be rough.

Ethan had offered to give her a ride, but she’d already planned on going to the service with her mom and dad. Camden didn’t feel right about going with her family. “I’ll be there,” she said. “This day needs to be about your family and your uncle. I’m always running late, as you know, and I don’t want to hold you back or be a pain. Not today anyway.” She smiled, and Michaela was grateful that her friend knew how to act when the occasion called for it.

Michaela’s parents were waiting out front when she drove up to get them. Good. She wanted to get through this day as quickly as possible. Their mood was solemn. She smiled at her mom, who looked as if she’d already been crying.