Saddled With Trouble

by A. K. Alexander

  “True. I hate to think that, but of course, it could be true. You’re right, I need to give the police this information, because I don’t know who she might have been cheating on my uncle with. If she was, you’re exactly right: it does make a motive for murder, doesn’t it?”

  “You bet. But don’t you go looking into it. If Cynthia and her boyfriend— if she had one— took your uncle out, and you sniff around, it’s possible you could be in danger too. You remember, we’re just throwin’ out ideas here.”

  “I got one more thing.” She opened her purse and took out the cancelled checks and the contracts from the breedings. “Can you take a look at these?” She handed them to him.

  “The contracts you was talkin’ about?” She nodded. “What am I lookin’ for?”

  She started to tear up. This was all getting to her. “I wish I knew. Maybe where the checks were deposited? Maybe see if somehow Cynthia is connected, although if she is, I don’t know why she’d ask me to look into it for her.”

  “Cover her tracks. Criminals know how to manipulate. I’ll check into it. I got a second cousin who I think has a nephew in banking, maybe he can find something out.”

  “Thanks. I don’t see Cynthia as a criminal, though.”

  “Maybe not her, but if she was cheating on your uncle, her lover might be real trouble, and people do insane things for love.”

  Michaela could buy that. Love did seem to make people crazy. That’s why she was determined to tread carefully when it came to the romance department, especially after the way Brad had screwed her over. “Possible. I don’t know. Look, I’ve got one more thing.” As if he wasn’t already doing enough for her.

  “Name it.”

  “Can you see what you can find out about a Dr. Verconti? See when my uncle might have gone to see this guy. I always thought his doc was Dr. Sherman. The same doc my family has seen for years. Anyway, I found a prescription for Lou from this Dr. Verconti and I don’t know if there’s any way to find out why he prescribed Ativan for him, but if you could, I’d be grateful.”

  “Ativan, huh? For anxiety. Yeah, well, I gotta tell you, gettin’ medical record info is tough, but I’ll see what I can do. You say Verconti, huh? Italian. That might work in my favor. Who knows, I might have a cousin who knows somebody who knows someone who could get the lowdown from this doc.” Michaela nodded and sniffled, tears again welling in her eyes. Joey was being so good to her with all of this, but talking about it, she couldn’t stop the emotion rising in her again. “Hey, hey. C’mon now. It’s gonna be okay. No more cryin’! Sure, I’ll see what I can do for you. I told you I would.”

  “I know. It’s hard, that’s all. And you’re being awfully kind to me, Joe. Whenever you want to bring your daughter by, I’ll get her started on those riding lessons, and we’ll see what we can do about finding her a horse. In fact, I’ve got one I can start her on,” she said, thinking about Booger. He’d make a perfect kid’s horse. If he could put up with Camden on his back flopping all around, he’d handle having a kid on him just fine.

  “Maybe over Christmas break. That’s in a coupla weeks, and by then the dust should have settled some for you. Look, why don’t you go on home and get some rest. I’ll check things out, see if there’s more to any of this. Try not to worry your pretty head any longer.”

  She stood. “Thanks, Joe.”

  “Sure. I’ll call you if I find somethin’ out. And, well, anytime you need someone to talk to, I’m here for you.” He thumped his chest and stood. “I’m glad you came to me.”

  “You’re okay, Joe Pellegrino.”

  “You ain’t too bad yourself. Be careful.”

  She was glad she’d gone to see Joe. The man was true blue. But she couldn’t help feeling even more confused than ever. She knew what it was like to really want a child. There were times in the past when she thought she’d die if she didn’t get pregnant, and as difficult as it was, she’d had to come to terms with it. Knowing that ache, she couldn’t help wondering now if Cynthia could have wanted a baby and a life with a new man badly enough to kill for.

  TWENTY-FIVE

  MICHAELA LEFT JOE’S HARDWARE STORE AND suddenly felt famished. She knew there was nothing at home to eat. When was the last time she had eaten, anyway? The day had gone by in another blur— fast and furious and more confusing than ever. Joe was right: She needed to tell Davis that she thought Cynthia was pregnant and not likely by her uncle. Right now though, she had to eat, and she wasn’t too sure what to say to the detective. She’d have to select her words carefully, especially since Davis seemed certain the case had been solved with Bean’s suicide. And, what if that were all there was to it? She doubted it, but still, what if her theories were just her imagination gone wild? Michaela knew she’d wind up sounding like a complete lunatic to Davis, and she really didn’t want that. Nah; she’d hold off calling him until maybe later, and if she didn’t reach him, she’d leave a message. For all she knew he’d already packed it up for the day and gone home. He’d likely be out with some cop buddies having a beer . . . or maybe home with his daughter. The thought of Davis having a kid made her smile. She’d bet he was a great dad. Let calling him go until later. Plus, she promised her mom that she’d bake a pear tart for the reception. Couldn’t let Mom down.

  Michaela picked up the ingredients she needed for the tart at the grocery store and thought about grabbing something to make for dinner, but didn’t have the energy to cook for herself. And a microwave dinner didn’t sound appealing. Before loading her groceries in the truck she called over to the China Lion down the street. She ordered some Kung pao chicken and an egg roll. That would do.

  When she walked into the restaurant the smells of ginger, garlic, and red pepper spice assailed her senses. Her stomach growled. Mmm. Good choice. The place didn’t look to be too busy, which meant her order probably wouldn’t take long. She walked up to the hostess booth and gave her name. The petite Chinese woman said, “One minute, please. I see if food ready.” She nodded politely and disappeared behind a red drape.

  Michaela heard someone call her name and saw Sam sitting alone in one of the booths. He motioned her over. “Hi,” she said. “How are you?”

  He motioned at the spread of food in front of him. “Not too good. I eat even more when I’m upset. You know . . .” He shook his head. “Can’t believe Bean would do this. Good man. A little slow, you know, but good. Just snapped in the head. Dunno. Don’t understand, but it’s terrible. Found out when we got back from the feed store, me and Dwayne. Bad dream, I tell you.”

  “More like a nightmare. I can’t believe it. Do you really think Bean had the capacity to kill my uncle and then himself?”

  “Dunno. Looks that way. That’s what Mrs. Bancroft tell us. Who knows what goes on in the mind of a man? Maybe Bean be more of a thinker than we all figure. Maybe he have some anger stuff going on and Lou make him angry.”

  “Maybe.” But it sure didn’t sit well with Michaela. Bean might have been slow and even a bit odd . . . but angry? No. He was too kidlike to be that angry. However, she had been wrong about people before. Hell, look at what she’d been married to. “Where’s Dwayne?”

  “He back home. I eat. He don’t eat when he upset. It be that way since we were kids. I can’t help myself though. He real tore about all of this with Bean and Lou. Real sad and like all of us, mixed up ’bout it. Sit down.” He sipped his beer. “Want one?”

  “No. I ordered takeout. It should be ready in a minute. Uh, I hate to sound like a mother, but Sam, should you be drinking beer and eating like that with your diabetes?”

  “Probably not. But I can handle it. Know how to take care of myself since I was a kid.”

  “You’ve been a diabetic since then?”

  “Nah, been taking care of myself since I was a kid.”

  “Didn’t you live with Dwayne’s family growing up?”

  “You got that one backward. He come to live with us when he was like fourteen, I think. Can’t remember. My
makuakane and makuahine— my dad and mom— always love him, you know. His parents drown in a boating accident off Oahu. Sad story. Dwayne come to live with us, but he fit right in. My family always love him.”

  “I thought you said that you’ve been taking care of yourself since you were a kid.” She was starting to think that Sam had had too much to drink. “Sounds to me like you had a very loving family.”

  “Oh you know, all us kids grow up on the islands take care of ourselves. We learn from Mother Nature, you know. Just a figure of speech is all. Me taking care of myself, just the way it was, and Dwayne, too. We have a lot of fun together back on the island.”

  “That’s really sad about Dwayne’s parents. I had no idea.” It did explain why she noticed that sad, faraway look in Dwayne’s eyes at times.

  “Yeah, bad stuff. Tough.”

  “But both of you are close with your parents?”

  “Sure. Yeah. I want to go back home now, open a restaurant. Or go somewhere. Need to get off the mainland. Too crazy here.”

  “It does feel crazy right now, that’s for sure. I had no idea that you wanted to own a restaurant.”

  “Oh sure. Been my dream for a long time now.” He rubbed his thumb and middle finger together. “Need cash though, you know. I want more than a restaurant. Want to run a luau, or hotel, you know, think big. I almost went back a few years ago, had a buddy with an opportunity to open a place on Maui and we was gonna have us the best luau around.”

  “Sounds nice.”

  “Yeah well, didn’t work out. Maybe now, I go home and find a job in a restaurant and try and work my way up. Being here for a while make me think I could go back and open a Mexican place. I make good tacos. I like them, too. Maybe Chinese.” He smiled. “Like I say, I love food.” He laughed and ordered another beer.

  Sam was a talker, and since he was rambling on, she decided to do some more fishing. He might have answers to some of her questions related to the deaths, or on her theories about the breeding program and the lawsuits. “Hey Sam, did you know my ex-husband, Brad, very well when he worked for my uncle?”

  He took a swig of his beer. “That guy? What a jerk.”

  “I know.”

  “Not just to you. He boss everyone around the ranch when he can, when Lou not around. He make Dwayne so pissed. Only one who like him was Bean, but that guy like everyone. Too bad he didn’t take out your ex instead, huh?”

  Michaela nodded, not exactly knowing how to respond to that. “Did Brad do a decent job at the ranch? I mean, when he was working.”

  “What? Handling the breeding?” He shrugged. “S’pose so. What’s so hard? He gotta help the stud do his thing to collect the . . .”

  She held up a hand. Might as well go for the jugular and see what Sam thought of her theory. “I know. He collected the semen. I guess what I’m getting at is, do you think Brad could have been involved in selling breedings to horse owners for a cheaper stud fees than Loco’s, and substituting another horse’s DNA in place of Loco’s?”

  “Semen? Sure. Don’t think it would be too hard. Get into where the containers were and make a switch, yeah, not too hard. You know I even tol’ Lou and Dwayne that with an animal like Loco on the place, we need better security. Horse worth $125,000, and his stud fees alone are $3,500, who knows someone figure out a way to work it? Charge what, even half that and supplement the sperm, well, you send out say even one sample a day during breeding season and you could make some nice cash. I know Lou had a security company out not long ago after I talk to him, make him see he got a lot of money tied up in those animals. I know he planned to get some cameras set up around the place and some alarms real soon. Lou be too old-fashioned for too long. He still livin’, well, was livin’ in the dark ages. Bad people out there. Take your money. Steal your horse. You don’t know. Just don’t know.”

  She leaned into the table. “So, you do think it could have been possible for someone to be running this type of scam, and now the owners of these mares have caught on, and they’ve started suing the ranch.” She sighed.

  “It could have happened. Like I say, bad people out there. I don’t know.” He moved the food around on his plate. “You know, Dwayne mention to me something about Lou being sued by some people in Ohio. Dwayne think Lou just having memory trouble and accidentally shipped the wrong stuff out.”

  Michaela nodded as the hostess set her takeout down. “But you don’t?”

  “Like I say, don’t know what to think. Crazy stuff.”

  “Wow, this could just be the beginning, then. If this were really happening, there could be hundreds of foals out there that aren’t really Loco’s, and owners will find out when they go to register them with the AQHA. This might only be the first batch of lawsuits. Not good.” She shook her head as the reality of how severe this situation could be dawned on her. “We haven’t even come into this year’s foaling season. Oh, God. Wait until this batch of folks want to register their foals, if there is another group that was duped like the people who already filed lawsuits. It could be a lot of money.”

  “Anything possible.” Sam took a bite of his egg roll.

  “The AQHA has not found a match for those foals and all of Lou’s studs are DNA typed and on file with AQHA.”

  “Yeah, tough. I do think there something fishy, too. Don’t know what, but it don’t smell right to me.”

  “Can I ask you something else?”

  “Shoot.”

  “Do you think my ex could have been involved with this kind of a scam?”

  “Your ex is one strange duck. He don’t have the full deck, you know.” He tapped the side of his head. “He know a lot about the animal and he a good lyin’ man.”

  “I know. Thanks. Look, I better let you get back to your dinner.”

  “Anytime I can help.” He downed the rest of his beer.

  “Be careful, Sam. Go easy on the beers. Do you need a ride home? I owe you.”

  “Nah. I’m fine. I don’t live far. I walked over and if I have to, I can call Dwayne.”

  She left Sam to eat and drink his sorrows away. So, Sam thought that Brad was more than capable of deceit. Duh! But was the man she was once married to also capable of stealing money, then murdering her uncle and now killing Bean and making it look like a suicide? She was beginning to think that Brad was capable of anything.

  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.”