Wild Horses (15 page)

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Authors: D'Ann Lindun

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BOOK: Wild Horses
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He held up the thermos. “Coffee?”

Patty looked at him over the back of her bay gelding. “Aren’t you coming with us?”

Eagle looked at him with knowing eyes. As if she sensed he and Castaña had made love last night. How could she? His paranoia was getting out of hand. He shook his head, aware Castaña stood frozen. Damn. He hadn’t wanted to tell her like this. “Not today.”

He poured each of them a cup of coffee, then handed it out. As Castaña took hers, she made an effort not to touch him. No one else would’ve noticed, but he did and it stung a little. Maybe she was having as many second thoughts as he was. As they stood in a circle sipping coffee, he explained. “I received a call this morning from my insurance agent. There’s a problem with my claim. I need to go to Phoenix and straighten it out.” Even to his own ears, he sounded lame.

“Are you coming back?” Eagle asked.

Damn again. Nothing like being put on the spot. “I’m not sure.”

“There’s no need.” Castaña didn’t quite meet his eyes. “Although I appreciate what you’ve done.”

“Just in case I get things wrapped up faster than expected, what are your plans?” He hated the confusion in her wide, hazel eyes. “I might be able to come back to keep searching.”

“We’ll be fine on our own.” Castaña tossed the last of her coffee on the ground and looked at her friends. “Are you ready?”

They nodded, seeming to sense the tension in the air. After they told Jake goodbye and moved away, he grabbed Castaña’s wrist. “Wait a minute. I wanted to thank you … for everything.”

She tugged her arm away. “You’re welcome, Jake. Now I need to go.” Her tone was polite, but cool. She wasn’t a fool. She knew he was running away. He wished he could tell her everything, but he’d already messed up and a confession at this point would only make things worse.

Chapter Twelve

Jake found Tsosie’s art gallery with a minimum of trouble. Situated in downtown Scottsdale, sandwiched between an upscale jewelry store and a southwestern clothing boutique, the shop featured a bronze sculpture of a Navajo girl holding a basket of flowers. Kelso leaned against the sculpture with his arms and ankles crossed. Arizona heat blasted Jake in the face when he stepped out of his pickup. Even from a distance of several feet, he saw the sweat rings under Kelso’s arms. He greeted his partner and they turned toward the shop.

“You do the talking,” Kelso said. “I’ll hang back.”

Not sure if the store would be open, Jake checked the doorknob and it turned easily. They stepped inside and a welcoming cool blast of air washed over him. Dim, with low lights highlighting the paintings on the walls, the atmosphere was oppressive. A slim, blonde woman hurried toward him. “I’m sorry, gentlemen, we’re closed today. I thought I locked the door behind me.”

As she approached, Jake took in the woman who at first glance looked younger than she probably was. Somewhere in her early fifties, he’d guess. Dressed in a bright blue silk suit with matching heels, she seemed flawless. But as she drew near he noted dark circles ringing her eyes and several strands of pale blonde hair escaped from a knot. “I’m unable to conduct business today.” She sounded slightly annoyed.

“We’re not here to buy, although I wish I could.” Jake looked around in frank admiration. Although small, the studio was packed with everything Navajo. There were pictures filled with poses of grandmothers and strong young men and adorable children. The artist hadn’t limited himself to people and had also painted hogans, sheep, and horses scattered across the Navajo Nation.

“What can I do for you?”

Kelso showed his badge. “If you’re Caroline Delacourte, we’d like to ask a few questions about Axell Tsosie.”

Jake’s attention was held by an especially provocative painting of a familiar woman. Nude, her back to the camera with long hair falling to her waist, she looked shyly over her shoulder. “Who is this?”

“She is — was — one of Axell’s favorite models.” Her voice caught. “There are several more poses of her in the gallery.”

With a jolt, Jake recognized the young woman. Nascha Nizhoni. Interesting. He turned his attention to the blonde. “Ms. Delacourte?”

“Yes?”

“Jake Breton.”

Kelso moved away and began to look at the artwork displayed around the studio.

She studied him openly. Something like admiration shone in her eyes for a flash. “You’re here about Axell?”

Attractive enough to turn most any man’s head, had Caroline been more than a business partner to Tsosie? “What can you tell me about him? And what’s your relationship?”

“We own the gallery together.” Close up, faint lines fanned out around her eyes and mouth. He’d bet money she’d once been a heavy smoker.

“I see by the subject matter that your partner was into Navajo culture.” Jake glanced at the painting of Nascha again. She had seemed so prim and proper. How had Axell convinced her to pose nude?

“Yes,” Caroline agreed. “Axell loves everything from his culture. The people, the land. He wanted to share his passion through his art.”

The dead guy had been so bloody and bruised it had been difficult for Jake to tell anything about him. Although Axell didn’t sound like any Navajo name Jake had ever heard, Tsosie was common enough among them. “And you shared his vision?”

“We’ve been very successful.” She played with one of her large diamond earrings. “People can’t — couldn’t — get enough of Axell’s work.”

“How did you two form this partnership?”

“At an art show downtown a few years ago. Axell had brought a few of his prints and I fell in love with them. We chatted, I found out he had no funding to sponsor a show or even to buy supplies. My late husband left me a substantial inheritance, and I was absolutely thrilled to fund Axell. It’s been a wonderful partnership.” She grasped her throat as if she couldn’t breathe. “I can’t believe he’s gone.”

“I’m sorry.” Jake waited a minute for her to somewhat regain her composure. “Do you know why he was in the Apache-Sitgreave?”

She nodded, still rubbing her throat. Her pale skin was turning red under her tight grasp. “He went to shoot some pictures of wild horses to paint later. Somehow he was run over by those vile animals.” A visible tremor ran through her. “The last thing I said to him was to be careful.”

“He didn’t use live models?” Jake thought again of Nascha.

“Sometimes, but usually he works — worked — from snapshots.”

Jake glanced around, and although he saw a painting of a skinny Indian pony, there were no other paintings of mustangs. “Did he have a special interest in wild horses?”

Her neck now looked like a beet. “Not that I knew about. But he recently contacted a national horse magazine and offered one of his paintings for their October cover. It was strange because other magazines vie for Axell’s work. He didn’t have to solicit work at this point in his career. He didn’t have any mustangs on file to paint so he made plans to go to the forest.” She looked around as if bewildered. “The paperwork is around here somewhere. I can find it if it’s important.”

“Not right now.”

She nodded.

“Did you ever go with him on these trips?”

“No. Axell didn’t think I’d fit in and I honestly didn’t want to. My job was to stay here and take care of business.” She didn’t sound like she meant a word of it.

“Were you more than business partners?” Kelso asked, suddenly at Jake’s shoulder. “Lovers?”

“No.” She looked past him, toward the door as if Tsosie might come strolling in. “No.”

“No?” Kelso sounded dubious.

Continuing to look over their heads, she whispered. “Not anymore.”

“Was there someone else?” Jake asked gently.

When her blue eyes met his, they were filled with tears. “I don’t know. He just lost interest. I tried talking to him, but he withdrew even more into that stoic silence of his. I thought if I gave him his space he’d eventually come around. We used to have such a beautiful love.”

Kelso snorted, but Jake kept his face impassive. “When did he pull away?”

Her chin trembled. “A while ago.”

“But you continued your business as usual?” Kelso sounded sarcastic.

“Yes.” She held out her bejeweled hands in a helpless gesture Jake was pretty sure she’d perfected. “I didn’t have any choice. A lot of my money is tied up in this venture.”

“But you were plenty mad at him.” Jake shot a warning glance at Kelso and made his voice as sympathetic as he could, trying not to think of Castaña. She was probably telling her friends what a jerk he was right now. He tried not to wince and attempted to concentrate on Caroline Delacourte.

“Well, yes.” Suddenly she looked old and defeated. “I loved him.”

Kelso abruptly shut up.

Jake cleared his throat. “Do you know a Martin Castillo?”

She looked confused. “No. Should I?”

“No.” Once again, he was drawn to the painting of Nascha. He studied it and Caroline followed the line of his gaze. “How did Axell know this girl?”

Although he tried to sound casual, something in his voice must have alerted her because she looked at him sharply. “I don’t know. Axell had many, many models. I was not acquainted with most of them.” She added quietly, “Maybe I should’ve paid more attention.”

Jake didn’t answer right away. His mind stalled on the connection between Axell and Nascha. Something about it seemed strange, although he’d seen stranger coincidences. It couldn’t be that odd that the two knew each other — they were both most likely from the Navajo Nation — but that they both had connections to wild horses made the tie a little different.

“Why are you investigating Axell’s death?” Caroline suddenly asked. “It was an accident, wasn’t it?”

“Just following up on a few things.” He sidestepped her question. “Will you be around?”

She nodded. “I guess his mother is going to take care of the arrangements. I’m going to close the gallery until I figure out the legalities, then I’m going to take a cruise. Maybe I’ll meet a nice old gentleman who likes to play bridge.” She sounded bitter. “Is there anything else I can help you with, Mr. Breton?”

“No, thank you.” He fished a card out of his wallet and handed it to her. “Here’s my card. Please call me if you think of anything else. May I have your number in case I have any more questions?”

She hurried to an antique desk in the back of the room and took a business card from it. He followed. “Here. My cell number is on the bottom. Call anytime.”

“Thank you.” He was uncomfortable by the open invitation in her eyes. A pretty lady, but not for him.

• • •

Jake and Kelso stepped out into the hot Arizona sun. Not even noon, yet the sidewalk already warmed the soles of Jake’s shoes. A couple of young women wearing sundresses sat at an outdoor café across the street. “Let’s get a drink,” he suggested.

After he and Kelso ordered iced coffees and settled at their own umbrella-shaded table, Jake told Kelso about Nascha and Axell’s connection.

“Tsosie’s death seems like a bizarre accident, but it strikes me odd that both he and Nascha Nizhoni have ties to mustangs. I should go back to Payson to talk to her, but if I do I’ll probably blow my cover.”

“I’ll question her. Are you going back to the ranch?” As usual, Kelso had a mouthful. A banana-nut muffin this time.

Jake hesitated. “I don’t know.”

Kelso swiped at a crumb on his tie. “Why not? That’s your best option for finding Castillo, isn’t it?”

Not after last night.
Jake fiddled with his icy drink, avoiding an answer.

“Jake? Partner?” Kelso waved a chubby hand in front of Jake’s eyes. “You there?”

“Yeah,” he muttered. “I’m here.”

“What’s wrong?”

Everything.
“I just don’t have any reason to be there now that I’ve left,” Jake said.

Kelso bit into his muffin and chewed noisily. “You better figure something out. And what aren’t you telling me?”

“Nothing. Castaña let me stay at her place for a couple of days because I was hurt, but I don’t know if she’ll welcome me back.”

“Yeah, I see the problem.” Kelso swallowed loudly. “Maybe you could feign interest in this Cassie chick. You know, act like you’re into her. Maybe pretend to be into camping, riding, that sort of thing.”

Jake didn’t respond. He glanced around and one of the girls at the other table gave him a friendly smile. He nodded politely and looked back to Kelso. “Yeah. I guess.” He tried not to let his reluctance show.

“Can you do it? Make this chick believe you’re into her?” Kelso slurped his drink. “Just make sure you don’t fall for her.”
Like last time
remained unspoken.

Jake kept his expression emotionless. Yeah, he could. But was it worth it? Would he be able to look himself in the mirror if he used Castaña that way? She had done nothing but treat him right, and he was going to walk all over her to solve a case. Did he have a choice? His career was on the line here. “I’ll go back now. See what you can dig up on Axell Tsosie and Nascha Nizhoni, will you?”

He stood, anxious to get away before he blurted out all the reasons why he couldn’t go forward with this case.

• • •

Briar Rose doubled over and cradled her abdomen. Already kneeling in the strawberry patch, she collapsed over on her side and drew her knees up as close to her enormous belly as she could manage. Her back had been aching all morning, but she had thought it was because she had been picking berries and weeding the garden a little too long. She groaned as another contraction assaulted her. She realized she was in labor. Her heart pounded in a crazy staccato. She didn’t know what to do. Castaña had driven away with her friends and Jake was gone. The baby wasn’t due for another three weeks. Could it survive this early?

Somehow, she had to get inside.

Moaning, pulling herself along the ground with her fingers, she managed to make it to the porch steps. How was she going to get up them? Standing was out of the question. The pains were coming faster now, one after another. The birthing book she’d read said labor should increase in increments. This was just one long agony.

The baby was going to be born outside in the dirt.

Rolling over so she was on her back, she reached above her head and took hold of the railing with both hands. Using all her strength, she dragged herself up the stairs one at a time. Once upon the porch, she doubled over and gasped for breath. Panting like a dog, she tried to think of anything but her misery. Clouds floated by in an azure sky, and she watched one until another pain forced her eyes shut.

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