Book Read Free

Gotcha Detective Agency Mystery Box Set

Page 86

by Jamie Lee Scott


  Nick nodded.

  We listened.

  “Dad said he wanted to get everything cleaned up, and set up the announcer’s booth for tomorrow, so I left him to it and came inside to take a shower.” She looked up toward the house.

  “Did you see anyone with your dad when you were headed to the house?”

  Galynn wrinkled her brow. “No, when I left him, there wasn’t anyone else looking at Mojo. As far as I knew, we were finished showing him for the morning. Dad didn’t say anything about showing him to anyone else, at least, not until tomorrow, about an hour before the auction.”

  She thought for a moment. “Well, wait, he might have been waiting for the vet to come out. I don't remember if he was coming yesterday or today for the vet check.”

  “Vet check?” Nick asked.

  “People would want to make sure Mojo was sound before they paid a king’s ransom for him, so Dad said he’d have the vet check done, so people would know he wasn’t lame. The vet bill would then be paid out of the sale price.” She seemed to be scanning the files in her brain for information.

  “Is that normal?” I asked.

  “When a buyer purchases a horse, they usually pay for the vet check, but in an auction situation, I’m not really sure.” Galynn stood tall, holding her distraught mom as she spoke.

  “Did your dad seem distracted today, or say anything about someone having a beef with him? Was he afraid for his life?”

  Galynn laughed, but it held no joy. “That was always Daddy’s joke. He’d say he was better off if he’d have been a bull rider. The bulls were safer than being a politician.” Then she smiled. It was a smile full of memories. “But I think he loved the game almost as much as a rodeo. The thrill of victory.”

  The smile faded fast. She hugged her mom.

  “We’ll need to take a look in the house at some point, so will you be home all day?” Nick asked.

  Rayna jumped away from her daughter. “Why do you need to go in the house? Bucky was killed at the arena.”

  “Yes, ma’am, but we need to gather evidence, and there may be pertinent evidence in the house,” Nick said.

  His voice belied his patience at this point.

  Galynn said, “I think you may need a warrant for that.”

  Nick’s eyes widened. “Are you shitting me?”

  We all looked at Nick.

  “Don’t you want to know who killed your husband?” Charles asked.

  Rayna, her body stiff, said, “Of course I do, but I don't see what good going through our house would do. No one has been in our house today but Galynn, Bucky and me.”

  “I’ll get the warrant,” Nick said, as he walked away.

  I never understood how people processed grief. If it had been my husband, I’d have let the cops in my house that very moment, even held the door open and made coffee. Did the ladies have something to hide? I found that impossible. They were both genuinely upset, and from their actions, I could tell they loved him.

  I saw Gabe walking up toward the barn as Nick walked down the hill. They stopped to chat with one another, then Gabe turned around and they both headed back to the crime scene.

  I took a chance and asked, “Can we look in the tack room, so we can tell Skinner we did our part, and be done with our investigation?”

  Not looking up, she said, “The door’s unlocked. Only you won’t find anything in there, but my trophy saddle, and the one I use to ride Mojo.”

  “Why’s that?” Charles asked.

  “Bucky’s sold nearly everything but the horses to fund his campaign.” She looked up. “He was desperate to win this seat for some reason. He put everything we have on the line, everything except the ranch, because I refused to sign papers for a second mortgage.”

  Under my breath, I said, “Don’t be so sure.”

  She said, “Excuse me?”

  Charles spoke before I could respond. “We’ll just check the tack room, and be on our way, so the detectives can do their jobs and find out who killed your husband. I’m sorry for your loss, Rayna.” He touched her shoulder, then walked past her, and we all headed up the hill to the stables and the tack room.

  I couldn’t keep my mouth shut. “And if you don’t want to look guilty as hell, you may not want to put the detectives through the hassle of having to get a warrant. I can’t believe you wouldn’t want them to have access to everything in order to find the killer.”

  “You’re right,” Galynn said. “It’s just the grief and shock talking. They need to have access to everything. Maybe even the trailer and his vehicles, too.”

  Clearer minds prevail. I smiled.

  “Would you like me to walk you back to the house?” Charles offered.

  “No, we’ll be okay.” Galynn had her arm around her mom’s waist now. “I’ll take her inside, and get her some water and a sedative.”

  “I’m not taking anything. You aren’t going to drug me,” Rayna protested. “And I can walk on my own.”

  Rayna pushed away from her daughter and walked up the hill.

  “I’m sorry, this is all a bit overwhelming.” Galynn followed after her mom.

  “So sorry for your loss.” It was pathetic, but I didn’t know what else to say.

  Galynn turned around and gave me a weak smile.

  I really wanted to go home. I didn’t want to walk through the dirt and straw, not to mention the manure, with my shoes. Even Cortnie took the time to put her shoes back on, not wanting to be barefooted anymore. Charles stopped halfway.

  “I’ll go back and get the car. I have no idea what you’re looking for anyway, and I really only like the smell of leather if it’s furniture, a nice car, or… um, I won’t even go there.” He turned and hightailed it to my Land Rover.

  “Nice. Way to be a real man,” I called after him. I wanted to say more, but in light of the recent murder, I thought better of yelling.

  Cortnie had made her way to the doors of the tack room, and I had to catch up.

  “You know Galynn?”

  “Not really. She’s a little younger than me, maybe twenty-two or so. But she’s beautiful, isn’t she?” Cortnie said.

  “Fresh out of the shower, not a drop of makeup, and flawless skin. I think I hate her.” And I didn’t even know her.

  “Hard to hate her though, she seems nice. And so caring with her mom. She’s a world class barrel racer, I just don’t know her personally. She and Rayna are well known on the rodeo circuit. They travel together.”

  “Just her and Rayna?” I asked. “What about Bucky?”

  “I’m pretty sure with his supervisor’s job, Bucky can’t be on the road like he used to. I mean, going for the gold is a full-time job. I’d bet Rayna and Galynn are away from home more than they are here.”

  She opened the door, which slid along a railing, and revealed a rather stark room. It must have once been full, because there were racks for at least a dozen saddles, but now there were only two. Beautifully carved half circles of wood lined a short wall, and I counted about two dozen in all, but only three had anything hanging from them.

  “Harnesses?” I asked.

  Cortnie snorted. “Harnesses are for draft horses, or horses that pull a cart. Those are bridles: headstalls with bits and reins. Not many, and there are only a few halters.”

  My phone rang, and I looked at the caller ID. “Uta,” I said, then answered. “This is Mimi.”

  “Skinner keeps calling. He really wants to talk to you. Says it’s important. Do you want me to give him your cell phone number?”

  I contemplated this. I didn’t usually give my clients direct access to my cell phone, because I’d learned in the past that it’s difficult to have a number blocked.

  “Can you conference him in?”

  “He’s adamant about having your number. Says for the money he’s paying, he should be able to reach you at any time.” Uta sounded worried.

  “I have his card,” I told her. “I’ll call him.”

  I pulled the card he
gave me from my handbag. Why I’d kept it on me, I don’t know, but I did. I put a block on my cell number and called him. It went to voice mail. He obviously didn’t take calls from unknown numbers. With the time he’d been having with Bucky, I guess I didn’t blame him. I left a message.

  “Skinner, it’s Mimi. I’m going to call back from a blocked number again in two minutes. If you want to talk to me, you’ll answer. If not, either you didn’t get this message, or you don’t want to talk that bad. Please stop badgering Uta; she’s not going to give you my cell phone number. Thanks.”

  I hung up and looked around the tack room a bit more. “Sort of smells like sweat.”

  Cortnie said, “Horse sweat. I love this smell.”

  Gag.

  Charles pulled up and rolled down the window. “Come on, ladies, time’s a wastin’.”

  We walked out to the Land Rover. “Aren’t you riding home with Nick?”

  “No, he’s going to stay here with Gabe and chat with Rayna, see what other information they can glean from her and her daughter. Figure out if she’s a suspect, which I think she is, and then wait for the CSU.”

  I had been ready to call Skinner back, until Charles said he thought Rayna was a suspect, then I pressed the red dot and hurried to the car. Cortnie wasn’t far behind. I got in the passenger seat, and Cortnie came around to get in the back, but on the passenger side.

  “Why Rayna?” I asked.

  “Because she’s the wife.” He stated in a matter-of-fact tone, as he drove up the hill and around the house, slowing as he passed the house.

  “That’s it?”

  Cortnie shoved his shoulder. “No way that’s it.”

  “What else is there? She didn’t really say anything. But I also think she has a thing for Skinner.” Charles winked then wiggled his brows. He pulled my car up next to Nick’s Boxster, put it in park and got out.

  “What now? I thought you were in a hurry to leave?”

  “My jacket and vest are in his car.”

  Cortnie and I craned our necks to see over toward the bucking chutes, hoping to get a look at Gabe and maybe a glimpse of Bucky’s pink shirt. I asked her, “What do you think?”

  “I think the list could be very long, starting with our client. Do you think Skinner was looking for an alibi?” Cortnie’s words made my skin crawl.

  I hadn’t been down in the trenches myself, so I asked, “How bad was he?”

  Cortnie gave me the gory details of Bucky’s body.

  I didn’t want to admit it to myself, but from the first moment I saw the pink shirt on the ground, I thought we’d been set up. Skinner either had an accomplice, or he’d sent us to Pam’s place while he came out here to off Bucky. But all of the pieces would had to have fallen in place for this to have been planned. Second degree murder at best, right? I told myself. Someone confronted Bucky, and he got smug with them. In the heat of the moment, the person lost it, and bashed him over the head. Once the person hit him, and Bucky was down, they just kept hitting him. Or had one hit killed him? Did the blow to the head kill him, or was it something else?

  Bucky Cox wasn’t a spring chicken anymore, and he wasn’t a young looking fifty or sixty-year-old. He’d been rode hard all his life, probably lots of drinking, and not enough sleep during all those years of traveling down the rodeo road. That will catch up with a guy. All the makeup and lighting in the world wasn’t going to make Bucky Cox look young again. Bucky wasn’t going for young and hip, though. He was going for a George Bush “good ol’ boy” campaign.

  Anyone who’d come up against him in city or county business knew he wasn’t a good ol’ boy. He was tough as nails. But I’d bet he’d change his attitude for a greased palm. I felt sorry for Nick and Gabe, because they’d have a lot of suspects, and a lot of people to interview.

  I wondered if Cortnie and Gabe talked shop. “Gabe ever talk about his cases?”

  Bored, and now sitting back against the seat, Cortnie said, “Sometimes. He talked a lot about the vice squad, and still talks about what’s happening with the sting operation, and Wanda.”

  “I mean ongoing homicide investigations.” I was hoping we’d be able to get some intel on this one.

  “Not so far, but I haven’t really asked. I’ve been kinda busy picking up the slack for you, then Charles.”

  She didn’t say the words maliciously, but they still stung. I’d had a rough year, finding out the history of my dead husband’s family, and still not knowing for sure if my husband was really dead, even though the feds assured me he was. Then Charles and the loss of his long-time partner, and his car. He’d taken it pretty hard. Cortnie never faltered. She worked hard and never complained. She deserved a raise, and I’d give her one if I could afford it.

  “You can stop talking about me now.” Charles got back in the car.

  “It’s not all about you, dear,” I said.

  “Oh, yes,” he said, “it is.”

  I’m not sure why I bothered. This game played over and over like a broken record. He always thought we were talking about him when he was out of the room, or maybe he just hoped we were.

  That’s when I remembered I was supposed to call Skinner back. I redialed his number and he picked up on the first ring.

  “Can you not tell time?”

  “Yeah, well, I got distracted, sorry. So what was so important?” At this point I felt no compulsion to be cordial with him.

  “I’d been calling you to see what Pam said, but then I just got a text message from Rayna. She said Bucky’s dead.”

  Well, I’ll be a monkey’s uncle. Why would she do that?

  “Really? You and Rayna close?” For the benefit of everyone in the car, I said, “Because I find it weird that his body isn’t even cold yet, and she’s sending you a text to let you know he’s dead.”

  “I traveled with her husband for years, Mimi, what do you think? Of course, she’s going to let me know if something tragic happened to him.” Skinner sounded annoyed.

  Charles said, “Now the wife is really a suspect.”

  Skinner hesitated, then said, “There might be a problem.”

  Here we go again. “My fingerprints are going to be out at the ranch.”

  “And why would that be, Skinner?” My head was ready to explode.

  “I was there this morning.”

  I reached into my handbag and grabbed a bottle of ibuprofen. I put the phone on speaker, opened the bottle and asked, “What the hell were you doing at the ranch this morning? You said there was a no trespass order or something.” I pretended I didn’t already know he’d been here.

  I shook two pills out of the bottle and tossed them to the back of my throat, then grabbed the bottled water sitting in the middle console and twisted off the cap. I’d started to swallow the pills when Skinner answered.

  “I was going to buy Mojo back.”

  I spit the water out all over the windshield and dashboard of my car, and nearly choked on the pills. Coughing, I was barely able to swallow them.

  This just keeps getting better and better.

  111

  Charles

  I couldn’t get Mimi back to the office fast enough. I’m not good in a car full of raging estrogen, and Mimi was raging. This Skinner guy was someone I really wanted to meet. I mean, he had to be some kind of con artist. He had Mimi, Jackie and Cortnie believing that Bucky had committed some sort of fraud against him. The women were jumping through hoops to prove his innocence, and the sad part was they even made it sound plausible. I really wish I’d been in on the original meeting.

  Everyone was glad to be back at the office, and out of the dirt and manure. Only Cortnie seemed nonplussed by the scenery of the morning’s events. I had a perfectly good morning nearly ruined by getting dust and stink on my suit. But then again, that’s what a good dry cleaner is for. Still, I had a smile on my face, because I’d had a pretty good test drive, and a handsome dude in the passenger seat.

  We sat around the reception area of the G
otcha offices, discussing the morning’s events. The girls had changed into reasonable clothes, which for them was black stretch pants and black T-shirts, and I stayed dressed in my perfectly tailored suit. I mean when something fits this good, and looks even better, you want to show it off, even if the people around you don’t appreciate it. I’d checked myself in the bathroom when we returned, and I hadn’t been “on the farm” long enough to retain any of the stink. Thank goodness.

  “Was it his southern drawl that suckered you two in? Because last I remember, I was in business with two fairly intelligent women. I’m not sure what case he had for you to investigate in the first place.”

  Mimi pinched the bridge of her nose with her fingers and had her eyes closed. “I really don’t want to talk about it, but I’m not happy about being made to look like a fool.”

  Cortnie said, “I don’t think he played us. He wanted the theft charges dropped. He wanted the fraud case to be a criminal case, not civil, and he wanted to regain his good credit rating. It all seemed legit. Still seems legit, except I don’t see a criminal or a civil trial any time soon.” She looked at us sideways.

  “And he wanted an alibi when he went to kill Bucky Cox,” I said. I loved rubbing it in, even though I think this Skinner guy was originally on the up and up, he may have lost his mind and killed Bucky. Hell, Bucky was a politician after all, and at any given moment, people wanted to kill politicians. It’s been known to happen.

  I heard the front door open, and Uta said, “Well, hello.”

  I could hear the appreciation in her voice, so I leaned forward to see who had walked in. Cortnie and Mimi looked, too. The temperature rose about twenty degrees in five seconds.

  “I’m looking for Charles Parks.”

  At that moment, I wished Mimi and Cortnie were gone. I didn’t want to share Max with anyone else yet.

  I stood. “Max, come in. We’re in here, discussing an interesting morning.”

 

‹ Prev