Inn the Spirit of Trickery

by Becki Willis

  “Yes.” Her smile was unsteady. “You did.”

  After a moment of silence, Hannah addressed the elephant in the room. “About what Shelton said…”

  “Hannah, you don’t have to say anything. You have the right to kiss whoever you please.”

  “I know.” She leaned over to touch the smear of her blood, still on his chin. “And I did.”

  She heard the sharp intake of his breath. “Hannah—” His voice sounded pained.

  “I know, I know,” she said, holding her hands up in a gesture of surrender. “I know what you’re going to say. You’re going to say that you’re my lawyer, and I’m your client, and that we can never be more than friends. Yada, yada, yada. But I just want you to know, he kissed me. I was a bit hysterical, and apparently, it was the fastest way to shut me up.”

  To her surprise, his dark eyes twinkled. “I may have to keep that in mind,” he mused. Then his eyes darkened, their expression growing serious. “But that wasn’t what I was going to say,” he told her.

  “It wasn’t?”

  “No. I was going to say that as much as I enjoy the view—” his eyes dropped to the front of his shirt, completely forgotten and hanging wide open, “—you may want to pull that shirt together.”

  With a furious blush, Hannah gasped and yanked the dual shirts closed over her exposed skin. When she jumped to her feet, she gasped for another reason. She was raw in places she forgot even existed.

  “Hot bath,” she moaned. “I definitely need a hot bath.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Peeling off the skin-tight jeans and what remained of the sequined top, Hannah eased into the tub. She had the water as hot as her tender skin could tolerate. Her current paperback and a half-empty glass of wine perched on the edge of the tub. Notes of lavender and eucalyptus mingled with the tang of Epsom salts. It was three o’clock in the afternoon, but she pulled out all the stops, in a valiant effort to coax away her aches and pains.

  Eyes closed, she heard a faint rustling noise in the room. She gave it no thought, until a new scent rode on the air. When the smell of damp earth hit her, her eyes popped open.

  She let out another squeal of surprise. Without thinking, she sank down in the tub, until even her head buried beneath the water. Quite ineffective, it turned out, considering there were no bubbles to distort the image of her naked body in the clear bath. As she sputtered and surfaced, Hannah wondered if ghosts could see through bubbles, had she used any. What if they had x-ray vision?

  Gouyen glared at her with her customary expression of nothing.

  “I did it again, didn’t I?” Hannah murmured, resisting the urge to cover her chest. Considering the day’s events, and not knowing how long the spirit had been there, it seemed a bit useless. “I squealed. I’m sorry. I just never expected you here. In my bathroom.” She was also babbling again, but the woman made her nervous. She was a ghost, for crying out loud. And she had a way of just staring…

  The old woman grunted, in a sequence that Hannah assumed were words.

  “I’m sorry. I don’t speak your language.”

  Ghost or Indian. Take your pick. Oh, wait. We aren’t supposed to say Indian anymore. It’s politically incorrect. I should say I don’t speak Native American.

  Great! She was even babbling in her thoughts now.

  In a rough, rusty voice, the spirit spoke again. It took a few moments for Hannah to realize she actually knew what she said.

  “Warned you,” the old woman croaked.

  Hannah blinked in surprise. “Yes,” she finally thought to say. “Yes, you did.” She bobbed her head like one of those dolls people stuck on their car dash. Her likeness would have oversized blue eyes and long, dark hair. And a giant question mark splashed across its forehead. “But… what were you warning me about?”

  “Evil.”

  “Evil. Got it.”

  Babbling! The warning dinged in her head.

  “If you don’t mind me asking, Gouyen, ma’am… Mrs. …er, Miss.” Who knew how Native American medicine women were addressed, two centuries past? “Dr.? Oh, never mind. Can you just tell me where the evil is coming from?”

  Her expression never changed. She looked neither amused nor aggravated. Hannah was sticking to the constipated theory.

  “Beware,” was the only answer she gave. It was low and growled, and the menacing tone brought shivers to Hannah’s bare skin, despite the warmth of the water.

  Another rustle drew her attention, and Hannah’s eyes darted away, afraid she might also see Orlan Varela in her private sanctuary. She crossed her hands over her chest, just in case.

  No one was there. And when she looked back, neither was Gouyen.

  Somehow, however, her paperback had slipped into the tub, and the medicine bag had taken its place to balance on the rim.

  “That, I understand!” Hannah whispered aloud. “Keep the bag with me, at all times.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Hannah didn’t make it to the second performance of the day, but she summoned the energy to attend the evening show. Walker offered to work the gate, and Fred stayed with Sadie at the inn, allowing Hannah to slip into the stands just as the first skit began. Shortly afterward, Walker joined her.

  She hadn’t arrived in time to speak with Jazz before the show. The few crewmembers she saw waved at her and made silly expressions, as if to say they were shocked to see her there, or to learn of her hidden riding skills, or both. Only two people made a point of speaking with her. Madge to express her concern, and Daphne to express her ire. That had been her favorite sequined top.

  She caught glimpses of Shelton as he worked behind the scenes of the show, but his beloved Ladybird was conspicuously absent. Hannah was surprised to see that Tilly had returned to the lineup and that none of the acts were sacrificed.

  “I have to hand it to you, Hannah,” Walker said, leaning over during Ted McCavish’s musical act. “This show is great. I was skeptical at first, but these are some top-notch performances. That man up there can really sing.”

  “Yes, he has an excellent voice,” she agreed.

  “Do they have the same skits each time?”

  “No,” she was pleased to say. “Some of this is different from last night. Which is good, because quite a few of these people are repeat customers.”

  “Which means they liked it well enough to come back. Good call by bringing them here.”

  “Thanks,” she said, trying not to sound smug. “I’ve been very pleased so far. Well, all except for the incident with Shelton’s horse.”

  “Shelton’s horse? What happened with it?”

  She stared at him in amazement. “Hello? Need I remind you? The whole runaway horse fiasco from this afternoon. You couldn’t have forgotten it already!”

  “Not at all. But that was a show horse, not Long’s.”

  “No,” she corrected. “That was his beloved Ladybird.”

  Walker looked confused. “He kept saying his horse this afternoon, but I thought he meant a horse under his care.”

  “No, he meant the horse that he loves like family. I actually saw them exchange kisses this afternoon.” Now that she thought about it, the same lips that kissed the horse had also kissed hers. The thought was disturbing.

  “Why were you riding Long’s horse in the grand entry? Why weren’t your riding one of the show’s horses?”

  “Actually, it kinda sorta is. Long story, but yesterday, we had to substitute Shelton’s horse for Tilly. It was last minute, but it saved the day.”

  Hannah wasn’t fooled by his calm demeanor. He appeared to be assimilating the facts, before he blew up. His voice was measured and low. “And who’s Tilly?”

  Even as Hannah nodded to the horse in the skit, the one Tim sang his lovelorn ballad to, a sick feeling formed in the pit of her stomach. “That—That one.” She bit her lower lip. “She appears to have recovered.”

  On the bright side, Walker didn’t scrub the back of his neck.

  In
stead, he squeezed the bridge of his nose and slowly shook his head. “Hannah.” One word told her how bad it was. “Long’s horse isn’t on the insurance policy we bought for the show.”

  “No, but it’s covered under my standard insurance, right?

  “There was very specific language in the contract. It clearly specified that each and every animal has to be covered under the policy we purchased through Hats Off. It was overkill in my opinion, but they do a thorough well-animal checkup and have extremely high standards for their animals.”

  “I’m sure Shelton takes excellent care of his horse. It’s not like it carries some sort of disease or something.”

  “It’s not that,” he argued. Around them, the crowd hooted with laughter, making it difficult to carry on a conversation. “We’ll talk about this later,” he said, his tone clipped.

  “I’m sorry. I should have called you, but you were in that meeting, and I didn’t want to disturb you. I thought I could handle this on my own.”

  “We’ve talked about this, Hannah. Never sign anything without reading the fine print.”

  “There were no papers! We verbally agreed to it. I never signed a thing.”

  “You signed the original contract, Hannah,” he told her wearily. “The one that required buying their specific policies.”

  She gulped down the panic that rose in her throat. “Maybe nothing will come of it.”

  “Something will come on it,” he all but growled.

  “You don’t know that.”

  They stared straight ahead, neither seeing the skit playing out on the stage. Pierce did a series of small magic tricks, wowing the crowd with his charisma and his skills.

  “I do,” Walker insisted.

  “How?”

  “Because I know Long. Believe me, he’ll make something of it.”

  As Pierce called up volunteers from the audience—women this time, both sporting large handbags—Walker muttered under his breath. “I wouldn’t be surprised if Long wasn’t behind this whole thing.”

  “Oh, come on!” Hannah protested, hearing his complaint. “Don’t be ridiculous. Shelton couldn’t possibly have had anything to do with this mess.”

  “How do you know?”

  “He wasn’t even the one to suggest using his horse. Pierce was. Jazz brought up the insurance angle, so I suggested that Shelton ‘sell’ her his horse for the weekend, so that it was on her policy and satisfied terms of insurance. But he was adamantly against it. He was afraid she might try to claim legal ownership of the horse. Like he pointed out, he doesn’t know her from Adam.”

  Walker pierced her with a scathing look. “So, your first inclination was to commit insurance fraud?”

  She squirmed in her seat, as the crowd around them quietened. Talia had blindfolded the women on stage and engaged them in conversation, while Pierce made a show of sneaking their purses backstage. When he returned with two very different purses, the crowd snickered in anticipation. No doubt, the bags were filled with hilarious items that the blindfolded women would have to identify.

  “Not fraud, exactly,” she denied, her voice a hissed whisper. “Just a shortcut.”

  “But he refused to go along with it.”

  “That’s right. Because the horse meant too much to him. That’s how I know he had nothing to do with today. There’s no way he would risk the safety of his beloved horse!”

  Walker gave a grunt of agreement. “You’re probably right about that.”

  The laughter picked up around them as the women on stage reached into their handbags and brought out items, one by one, that made no logical sense. Some of their guesses had people practically rolling in the aisles with fits of laughter.

  “Tell me again, how did the horse make it into the show?” Walker couldn’t quite give up the troublesome line of thought.

  Her voice was small. “I talked him into it.”

  By the second half of the show, Hannah squirmed uncomfortably in the stands. “Do you need to leave?” Walker offered. “I can take you back to the inn.”

  “No. I want to see this chuck wagon skit again. I’m still trying to figure out how they switch the people in the wagons.”

  “Remember what Jazz told us? Trickery. Things are not as they seem.”

  “I know, but I still like trying to figure it out.”

  “For starters, they probably used the twins. Have one hide in the back of the wagon going in, the other hide in a different wagon going out. They make the switch while the dust is swirling, or while you’re watching something else. Trickery.”

  “Twins?”

  “Ted and Tom. It’s hard to tell them apart.” He saw the surprised look on her face. “You didn’t know?”

  “No. I’ve never seen Tom. At least,” she said with a sudden frown, “I don’t think I have.” She batted at his arm in frustration. “Besides, we can’t leave before the final act. If you thought my ride was spectacular today, you should see Jazz and Pierce! They are amazing.”

  “Daphne tells me they’re an item.”

  Hannah nodded. “Much to Daphne’s disappointment. Daphne has the hots for Pierce,” she explained.

  “I think Daphne has the hots for any man in jeans,” Walker grunted.

  Hannah looked up at him and grinned. “She hit on you, didn’t she, while you two were working the gate?”

  Walker was clearly uncomfortable. “Maybe.”

  “You old charmer, you!” she teased. She bumped her arm against his, until she found that it hurt to do so. With evening setting in, she began to ache all over. She might have to take a second bath, and double up on the salts.

  “I learned something else from her. She thinks that Rusty’s death may not have been as accidental as the sheriff first thought.”

  “Really? Why?”

  “Because Rusty had about as many enemies as he did friends. And he owed his roommate a lot of money. He kept saying he was working on a plan that would make them both rich. She seemed to think he was trying to blackmail someone on the crew.”

  “Who?”

  “He never said. She thinks someone may have killed him to keep him silent.”

  Hannah frowned. Her fingers played with the small leather pouch in her pants pocket. Murder definitely qualified as evil.

  “Then again, maybe she just has an over-active imagination,” Walker said. “She also mentioned that the same roommate may have done something to get Rusty fired, so that his brother would get the job. She came short of accusing him of murder. She hinted that maybe he slipped something into his beer, and that Rusty had a bad reaction to it.”

  “I suppose anything is possible,” Hannah agreed.

  “She invited me back to her trailer tonight, to go over ‘possible theories.’” His look of skepticism spoke volumes.

  “Hey, don’t worry about me,” she offered with a laugh. “I can get back to the inn on my own.”

  “After the day you’ve had? As your friend and attorney, I feel duty-bound to see you safely home.”

  Hannah grinned. “Think she’ll fall for it?”

  “That’s the line I used, anyway.”

  “Do you think we should say something to the sheriff? If there was foul play, and the show moves on, they might never find the truth.”

  “You’re right. They’ve already ruled it a natural death, and no one else would be the wiser.”

  “Maybe you should call the sheriff tomorrow. Oh, look, there’s Jazz. Shh, we need to watch this.”

  The trick riding was as intriguing the second night as it had been the first. When the show was over, Walker grabbed Hannah’s hand and led her down the crowded bleachers.

  “Where are we going?”

  “To check on Long’s four-legged girlfriend. I want to see for myself if she’s really hurt.”

  “Holy boomtown, you don’t still suspect him of doing something underhanded, do you?” She was clearly exasperated.

  “I absolutely do. I wouldn’t put a thing past Long.”


  “What is it with you two?” she demanded. She stopped in the middle of the walkway, refusing to budge until he stopped and turned her way. “Why do you distrust him so?”

  “Because he’s a weasel.”

  “Then why did you hire him to shoe the horses?”

  “Because weasel or not, he’s good with animals,” Walker admitted. “His talents just don’t extend to people.”

  “You’re impossible!” she muttered, but as someone bumped into her from behind, she allowed him to tug her forward.

  Ignoring the barriers intended to keep non-personnel away, they wiggled their way through narrow openings and orange netting. They reached the livestock pen at the back of the arena, where the horses enjoyed an after-work treat of specialized grains.

  Three pens down, they found Ladybird. Colorful, custom-made bindings wrapped her legs. A matching fleece cooler covered her back as she lay on a clean bed of hay.

  “Only the best for his girl, I see,” Walker murmured in sarcasm.

  A sharp “Hey!” drew their attention. Shelton Long scurried their way, his long legs eating up the distance. “Get away from my horse!” He broke into a lope as Walker stood stubbornly in place.

  Hannah felt the need to speak. “I’m sorry about today, Shelton. I don’t know what happened. When we started for the exit, she broke into a gallop. I was so busy trying not to fall off, I may have jerked her. And then—then she just went berserk and tried to buck me off!”

  “Her leg got tangled in the guy-line,” he said, defending his horse. “She was trying to get free, not buck you off.” His eyes went to the horse’s hind leg. “She has a pretty deep gash, where the wire cut into her leg.”

  “I noticed she wasn’t in the show tonight.”

  “Dr. Hogan advised against it.”

  Beside her, Hannah felt Walker stiffen. She made a mental note to ask him about it later.

  For the first time since the incident, Shelton turned to her in concern. “Are you all right? I know I didn’t show it earlier, but I really am concerned about you.” He caught her wrist and stepped closer, turning his body to exclude Walker from the conversation. His voice dropped a note. “When I saw my horse lying there, obviously in so much pain, I admit I panicked. I didn’t express my full concern on your behalf. I apologize for that.”