by Leigh Hearon
“Maybe three, four days at the most,” he said with a slight shrug of his shoulders.
“Is she well? Progressing normally?”
Annie had seen two mares give birth in her lifetime. The first time, she had been ten years old and had watched a mare deliver in the field. All had gone well, and Annie had been in awe of how, after a few false starts, the little foal had staggered to its feet and stood, wobbling on its spindly legs. Before she went home that day, the foal was running and kicking up its heels in the field. The second time, Annie had been an adult and responded to the desperate call of a friend whose mare was trying to foal but having difficulty. That birth had not ended as happily.
Annie looked at the pinto again. She seemed perfectly content, but it was so hard to know. She wasn’t a vet, nor was she in the breeding business. She turned to Colin.
“Have you seen this before?”
“Many times. I think she will do fine.” Colin paused. “I have been protecting her for many months, ever since I knew she was in foal. But now, I am concerned. The men who round up our horses may have discovered my hiding place and will come look for her and the others. I think this is what the letter from our tribe said to the people at the feedlot. That more horses would be coming to the feedlot before the herd is shipped.” He paused for a moment. “You know what they will do to the foal.”
By now, Annie knew full well, and she was sickened by the thought.
“How did you meet Tony?”
“Through my little sister, Aleisha. We take turns guarding the herd. Tony saw her walking down the road from the village. He was coming to talk to the elders, just as you wanted to. He’d heard what some of our people do to the horses. Aleisha took him to our secret place, and he promised that he would save the pinto and her foal for us. And then he died.”
Annie was profoundly moved by the boy’s simple yet eloquent words.
“Don’t worry, Colin. I’ll make sure the pinto is saved. If I can, I’ll try to save everyone in the harem.” Annie knew this was the term most people used to describe small bands of wild horses. She held out her hand.
“Any promise Tony made extends to me.”
Colin solemnly shook her outstretched hand. As always, his response was simple and direct.
“Thank you, lady.”
Annie realized that, for the first time since she’d arrived here, she truly trusted someone. And someone trusted her in return.
* * *
Driving back to Browning, Annie began to think about the logistics of accomplishing what she’d just assured Colin she’d do. She’d already committed to taking one other horse, the Thoroughbred Eddie, and now she’d told Colin that she’d save the pinto and her foal, not to mention the other four mares and their offspring, as well as the mustang stallion. At this rate, she was going to need more than Jessica’s repaired horse trailer to make good on her promises. She was going to need a massive caravan.
The problem was, she thought, the longer she stayed in this town, the more tempting it became to save just one more horse. But who was she to make the decision about which horses to take? The initial decision to buy four feedlot horses had been approved by the board of Alex’s Place. Travis, the board chair, was all for the idea, but Annie wasn’t sure he’d feel as enthusiastic about bringing home more than twice the original number pledged and paid for, especially several newborn foals. She owed it to Travis to let him know what she’d managed to get herself into and hoped she would not incur his wrath.
Annie had never seen Travis angry, but she had no doubt he could be a fierce adversary if he felt that Annie had gone too far. Which, in fact, she had. She knew this and dreaded the potential backlash from other board members as well. Knowing Marcus, he might be more amused than annoyed at her softhearted promises, but perhaps not. Months before, he’d hired her to help divest his wife’s estate of twenty extremely expensive horses trained for dressage and as hunter/jumpers. He probably wouldn’t be thrilled to know that a herd nearly matching that number had been spoken for in eastern Washington—and these were horses who would require a lot of work, both to bring them back to health and to train. Tony had intelligently selected four feedlot horses that would best fit the needs of the boys who would be staying at the new ranch. Her selections were made simply on the basis that the horses didn’t deserve to die when so much life was left in them. What was she thinking?
Annie flipped on her CD player to distract herself from ruminating any longer about her hasty decision. If worst came to worst, she would take Eddie, the pinto, and her foal and care for them herself. And hope that the tribe was not privy to the location of the remaining members of the harem. Which she ached to save, as well.
* * *
It was close to nine o’clock when she rolled into Browning, and on a whim, Annie decided to change motels after all. True, it was only a quarter mile from the scene of the vandalism, but why should she stay in a place that didn’t protect its guests from lowlife thugs? She pulled into the town’s only competition and walked into the reception area.
“Howdy.” The man behind the counter looked like a retired rancher who had decided on a second job to help pay his beer bill. Telltale spidery red lines creased his ruddy nose and cheekbones.
“Got any rooms for the next three nights?”
“How many beds?
“One’s fine.”
“Well, I got one upstairs, and one on the ground floor. You got a preference?”
“Which is quieter?”
“Upstairs. We got an elevator, too. It’s small and sometimes don’t work too fast, but it’ll get your luggage up there.”
“What’s your pet policy?”
“If they’re well behaved, they can stay for free. If not, we’ll ding your credit card after you leave.”
“Deal.”
Annie completed the transaction and drove the short four blocks to her first motel. It took her five minutes to pack and for Wolf to eat his second dinner. Annie had already shared with him a hamburger she’d procured from a fast-food place on the outskirts of town. She’d have loved to return to the Cattle Rustler Café but remembered just in time that she’d told Mindy she was on her way to Spokane, and she’d told enough fibs for one day.
She entered the small reception area to return her key. The clerk on duty was someone she’d never seen before.
“Anything wrong, miss? You’re checking out early. Registration says you’ve paid up through next Tuesday.”
“That was before you let a bunch of rednecks trash my trailer on your property and then denied that you saw it happen.”
The clerk drew back sharply. “I wasn’t aware of that. Have you reported it to the police?”
“Of course. They’ve got it well in hand.” A deputy’s card had been stuck in her door when she returned. She figured she’d drop off the incident report tomorrow. That was, if the cop shop was open on weekends.
“I’m very sorry. I wasn’t on shift that night—Brett was.” The clerk looked down and Annie could swear his face showed signs of guilt. “Tell you what. I’ll just refund the nights you’re not staying—after tonight, of course. It’s a shame what happened.”
And you know exactly what did happen, Annie thought, just like Bill. The only difference was this clerk seemed to have a working frontal cortex and felt a modicum of shame.
That transaction completed, Annie drove back to her new temporary home. She eschewed the elevator—it did look old and creaky and was incredibly small—and walked up three flights of stairs. Her new room was a definite step up. It had a real HDTV and even offered HBO. The kitchen accommodations were lacking, but at least she had a brand-new mini fridge and microwave that didn’t smell like burning popcorn. With any luck, the coffee would be better, too.
But the landline she’d had in her old room was missing in this one. She trudged back down again to reception to inquire about breakfast hours. Who knew, perhaps eggs Benedict would be on the menu here.
“Six to
ten,” came the prompt answer from the desk clerk. “Just turn right off that hallway. Breakfast room is on your left.”
Annie thanked the man and paused. She now was staying in the motel Tony had checked into over a week ago. She wondered if the desk clerk would remember him.
“A friend of mine stayed here not long ago,” she began. “His name was Tony Elizalde. Do you, by any chance, remember him?”
“Sure do. He was a nice young feller. Terrible about him going down in that plane with Danny Trevor.”
Annie’s heart skipped a beat. She hadn’t expected the clerk to be so forthright. She had been getting used to receiving half answers to her innocent questions.
“Yes, we were all shocked by his death back home. I know it’s a long shot, but did Tony leave anything in his room? He was only here the one night.”
“Not that I’m aware of. Didn’t even go up to his room after he registered. Just took the key, turned around, and left. Didn’t see him again until the next morning when he checked out. A local gal was with him then.” The desk clerk grinned at her.
“Oh? He’d mentioned that he was going to look up a friend when he was here.” This was a fib, but just a small one, her Good Angel acknowledged.
“Yup, I recognized her. Maria Hernandez. I’ve known her all her life, ever since she was a little girl. She came down with him when he checked out on Thursday. That pilot feller was waiting for both of them.”
“Danny Trevor was here?”
“Yup, said he’d been hired to take the man home across the mountains.”
“Did you know Danny very well?”
“Just knew he was one of the bush pilots in the area. Good reputation, I gather. He’d flown up in Alaska for a time, then for one of the big commercial outfits. Have they found out yet what happened to that plane?”
Annie swept aside the question. She had one of her own and knew she had to phrase it carefully.
“How about Tony’s friend, Maria? I assume she was meeting Danny Trevor for the first time, too.”
“Hell, no. They were old friends, the way they greeted each other. Big hugs, you know, ‘nice to see you again’ kind of thing. Tony was meeting Danny for the first time, but I got the impression that Maria and Danny went way back.”
As Annie trudged back up to her room, she chalked up another point against her new friend. If it was true that Maria and Danny were old friends, then what were the odds that she knew about Danny’s work for the tribe?
Annie suspected they were very good, indeed.
CHAPTER 19
SATURDAY MORNING, AUGUST 13
It was six o’clock in the morning. Annie’s cell had awakened her with a soft vibrating buzz, its signal that a new text had arrived and was awaiting her perusal. She eagerly grabbed the phone, conscious that she was rapidly becoming as addicted to the device as her friends. And she’d ragged them for years for their devotion to the stupid things. What was happening to her?
The text was from Marcus, and read:
I’m on my way. In-flight map puts me somewhere over Iceland. See you soon, and stay safe.
Annie hadn’t realized how much she’d wanted Marcus with her until she knew that it was actually going to happen. And she was very glad she’d upgraded her motel accommodations. It wasn’t quite on the scale that Marcus had provided in Port Chester, but it was the best she could do. She quickly replied with her own text:
Can’t wait to see you. Change in address. I’m now in Browning’s BEST motel, endorsed by AAA.
She typed in the address and pushed SEND.
Buoyed by Marcus’s update, Annie threw back the covers and started her day. To her regret, the dining options here were little better than in her previous lodgings. She walked the two blocks to the local café and, after breakfasting on eggs and toast, braved the icy chill of the overly air-conditioned IGA to raid the deli aisles. There wasn’t much to choose from, but she selected the most expensive bottle of red wine she could find, another of sparkling water, a circle of domestic Brie, and a small box of crackers. She would eschew drinking if any driving was to be done, but there was nothing stopping her from enjoying a bit of wine in her room with Marcus, was there? She imagined their happy reunion, now a mere twenty-four hours away, and felt a wave of happiness flow through her. Her body already was anticipating Marcus’s first warm kiss.
“Did you find everything you needed?” the grocery checker patiently asked Annie for the third time.
Annie snapped out of her daydream and dug into her purse for her cash, managing to spill all her loose coins onto the checker’s side of the counter at the same time.
“Sorry,” she said to the clerk, who calmly picked up the change and handed it back to her.
“Have a nice day,” the clerk said unenthusiastically when Annie’s few purchases were bagged.
Annie gave her a big smile. She certainly intended to try. Especially since she knew the next day would be even nicer.
It was still early enough to walk a few more blocks without fear of sunstroke, so after quickly stowing her purchases in her room, Annie whistled for Wolf to accompany her down to the sheriff’s office. As she’d suspected, the front door was locked and the printed office hours made it clear that any police assistance over the weekend would require a call to 911. Annie stuffed the incident report back in her purse and turned back toward the motel. What could she do for the rest of the long day that stretched out in front of her? Maria, she knew, would be at the feedlot, but this was Tinker’s day to help. Then she remembered—Myrna was back. Presumably, she’d sobered up by now to handle the feedlot in her usual cruel and tyrannical way
According to Annie’s phone, Maria had not tried to contact her at all the previous day, and the realization bothered her. In theory, this meant Maria didn’t even know about the vandalism to the trailer, or Annie’s new living arrangements. It seemed odd for Maria not to call. She hadn’t expected the woman to dog her every footstep—she knew Maria had a family of her own—but after the ruckus at the bar, it was strange that she hadn’t followed up to make sure Annie was all right.
Or, perhaps Maria felt the same way about Annie’s failure to check in yesterday. Annie had never spent a lot of time worrying about what other people might or might be feeling when it was so much easier to pick up the phone to find out in person. She did so, now.
But all she got was Maria’s voicemail. Very well, then. She would leave a message. She waited for the familiar beep, the cue to start talking.
“Hi, Maria, it’s Annie. Just wanted to give you an update. You may have heard that I came back to the motel on Thursday to a thoroughly trashed trailer. I’m assuming it was the work of the bar thugs. It’s being repaired as we speak. I’ve also switched motels, and am hoping to leave on Monday along with the trailer and the horses. Oh, and Myrna’s back, if you didn’t already know. I guess that means the horses are back to being cared for by their wicked stepmother. Call when you can, and please tell me my horses are okay.”
Perhaps she should just go to the feedlot herself to check on the horses. But Annie could not forget Myrna’s dramatic outcry to Sheriff Mullin yesterday. The woman seemed convinced that Annie was her husband’s killer. Either that or, as George’s real killer, she was doing a damn good job pretending that was the case. Exactly how would Myrna’s accusations affect Annie’s ability to take the feedlot horses on Monday? Would she refuse to hand them over to the person she believed had killed her husband even though the horses had been paid for in full?
No, checking up on the feedlot horses alone was a bad idea. She had no idea what weapons Myrna might own, and there was no point in going over if it would just antagonize the woman who held the proverbial reins, particularly if she thought Annie had her own suspicions about her killing her husband. It was far more sensible to wait until Marcus was with her when she did visit. She was sure even Myrna wouldn’t shoot her if she was accompanied by a man who exuded the calm strength of character that Myrna clearly lacked, an
d George had apparently never had.
The ebullience she’d had felt just an hour ago was replaced with a nagging feeling of dread—an emotion that had plagued her too much of the trip. It was so difficult to plan one’s life when you were accused of murder and no one would tell you when you could leave or what you could take with you when you did.
She was anxious to know how Andy was faring with the trailer, but thought it only polite to wait a few hours to let him work on the rig before pestering him. That left her with only one place left to go—the county airport. She told herself she merely wanted to find out more about Danny Trevor and his relationship with the local tribe. Deep down, she knew she wanted to know more about why his plane had crashed and who had been so desperate to kill the pilot that he or she didn’t mind taking Tony out along with him. Besides, Travis had fully expected her to talk to the airport employees, so why shouldn’t she? She knew she was treading on dangerous ground but didn’t care. If she was prohibited from talking to Dan about what he’d learned from the FAA and NTSB, then she’d do her best to find out herself.
The county airport sign appeared just where she’d remembered it on her way to Duncan, two days before. She turned left at the sign and drove eight miles down a straight and very dusty two-lane road until she saw a row of tidy hangars before her. A large commercial sign out front that read DUNCAN-LOMAN INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT confirmed that she’d arrived at the right place. The sign amused her. She could see a number of prop planes inside the complex, but suspected they were incapable of crossing the Atlantic without frequent fuel stops. What foreign country were they talking about? Oh, of course—Canada was just a couple hundred miles to the north. That foreign country.
She drove in through the open gates in the high chain-link fence that encircled the airport, and pulled into the visitor parking space with the most shade. Stepping outside, she shielded her eyes from the sun and took in the tiny airport. Aside from the row of hangars on the left, she could see only one other building on the place. It was tall, made of galvanized steel, and had two industrial-sized doors that gaped open. It had to be the maintenance shop, she thought, and calling to Wolf, she walked toward it, passing a small hut with the sign CUSTOMS along the way.