One Hoof In The Grave

by Carolyn McSparren

  Peggy followed him. She wanted to hear what he said.

  “Mrs. Tolliver, have you seen Merry or Catherine?”

  “I think Catherine went to the restroom, Agent Wheeler. The last time I saw Merry she was back by the hazards course in the back pasture.”

  Geoff started toward the lane between the pastures, then turned back and pointed to the open plastic lunch box on the judge’s table. “Is this yours or Mrs. Harris’s?”

  “Hers. The other one’s mine. Why?”

  Catherine’s paper napkin was balled up, but there were several streaks on it that looked like blood. The garden club hadn’t brought catsup for the turkey sandwiches, and there was none on the judge’s table.

  “Has Mrs. Harris hurt herself?” Geoff asked.

  “Bless her heart,” Juanita said. “She’s got a couple of nasty cuts across the underside of her little fingers. She said she found a piece of rusty barbed wire in her pasture and cut herself yanking it loose from the dirt. Swear to God, that stuff ought to be outlawed around horses.”

  Whoever had pulled that wire tight around Gwen’s throat must have exerted a great deal of force. Pulling hard on alfalfa wire even wearing gloves could slice your fingers so badly they bled.

  Using a fresh napkin, Geoff closed the box holding the remains of Catherine’s lunch with her used napkin inside, borrowed Juanita’s ballpoint and wrote his name, date and time across the top and side of the box. He picked up the brown paper sack the two lunch boxes had come in, put Catherine’s box inside and folded it closed. “Mrs. Tolliver, you wouldn’t happen to have any tape, would you?”

  Her eyes were wide and scared, but she realized something about that lunch box was important, and not in a good way. She shook her head and said, “But I’ve got a staple gun.” She handed it to him.

  “Great.” He wrote his name and both Peggy’s and Juanita Tolliver’s on the sack, then stapled the top together. “Ladies, mind writing your name across the flap?”

  Peggy and Juanita locked eyes. Peggy’s hand shook, but she signed, then Juanita signed.

  “Thanks,” Geoff said. “Hang onto this for me, please.” An enormous leather satchel sat at Juanita’s feet. “Put it in your satchel, but don’t let anyone know you have it.”

  Juanita took a deep breath. “My God.” She slid it into her bag.

  Catherine had been wearing thin driving gloves all morning. Peggy thought at the time that was weird considering the warm weather, but then she’d dismissed it.

  But Catherine wouldn’t have been able to explain eating her lunch with her gloves on. And her fingers were still raw enough to bleed.

  Geoff was nearly running down the lane toward the hazards set at the far end of the mare’s pasture. Peggy wanted to see Merry, talk to her, warn her, although there was no reason Catherine, even if she were guilty, should attack Merry. Was there? She said to Juanita, “Don’t mention this to a soul.”

  “But what am I supposed . . .”

  Peggy couldn’t see Merry, but then, this was nonsense. Catherine wouldn’t kill anyone. There had to be a mistake. Geoff would find Merry and look after her.

  Surely, Merry would come to the arena to watch Casey warm up. This was their first judged dressage test, and both she and Ned were nervous. Peggy knew Dick’s coaching would relax both of them. What she didn’t know was where Merry had gone. She looked for Merry with her fingers crossed and a prayer on her lips.

  “She’s not down by the hazards,” Geoff said from behind her. “I don’t see her anywhere.”

  “She’s probably in the loo.” She looked carefully into Geoff’s eyes. “Are you worried?”

  “Where’s Catherine?”

  “She’s due back in ten minutes. Probably still in the bathroom.”

  “Yeah, putting fresh bandages on her fingers.”

  Ned passed them at a strong trot. From time to time he took a couple of canter strides, which would be penalized in the actual test. Casey brought him back under control expertly. Peggy began to relax.

  Merry

  I know Geoff said not to unlock the barn for any reason until he got back, but he wasn’t running a horse show. I was. I should have known Marvin Cudlow and Becca would continue to cause problems. Marvin decided to drive the hazards course flat out. Unfortunately, he couldn’t steer his pair at a gallop worth a darn.

  He’d been the last on course before the lunch break, which was fortunate, since he demolished one of the plywood gates we’d constructed. The plywood, painted to look like gray stone, was relatively intact. One of the two-by-fours that kept it upright, however, was in pieces. The horses were lucky they hadn’t picked up shards in their legs.

  No barn is ever without two-by-four studs and plywood. Our supply was kept in the front corner of Hiram’s barn, where they were presently under lock and key along with my carriages. Louise’s grandson Pete could nail up a new upright and set the hazard back in place after he finished eating, but he needed wood, a hammer and nails.

  Pete followed me into Hiram’s barn, balanced a couple of two-by-fours on his shoulder in case another one got broken, stuck the hammer and nails in his back pocket, and trotted off across the parking lot as the remaining two-by-fours shifted and began to slide to the floor.

  I ran over to catch them, rearranged them and turned to leave.

  Catherine shut the barn door behind her quietly, and said, “I’ve never been in here before. It’s huge.”

  “Plenty of space for the carriages Hiram was repairing.” My mouth felt dry, but I think I sounded normal.

  She ran her hand over Dick’s marathon carriage. “I’ve never seen a cover drape all the way to the floor like this. Custom made, of course, nothing but the best for Dick.”

  “He can afford it.”

  She tittered. She was nervous and making me nervous too.

  “Hadn’t you better get back to the judge’s stand?” I asked.

  “Oh, I’ve got ten minutes or so. No hurry.”

  I couldn’t walk out and leave her. She’d pull that hatpin out of the Meadowbrook. The minute she saw Peggy’s substitute, she’d know somebody had found hers and probably recognized it. She’d be certain it was me. I knew she’d killed Raleigh. That meant she’d probably killed Gwen as well.

  We were almost the same age, and I was two inches taller, but she was tough too. I didn’t want to go up against her, hatpin or no hatpin. I had to keep her calm and get her out of the barn without it.

  She trailed her hand over the miniature Meadowbrook. “You brought this back on Sunday from the Tollivers’, didn’t you? Where was it? Under that cover?”

  I nodded. “It folds up.”

  “Why on earth would you lock your trailer in your own parking lot?”

  “Why would you tell me Hiram was Troy’s father?” I knew the minute the words left my mouth I’d made a big blunder. “Didn’t you think I’d check our DNA? As his daughter, my DNA would be close enough to his for comparison.”

  “You couldn’t possibly have the results back yet.” She was suddenly tense. She must have realized she’d admitted knowing that my trailer had been locked. And now, this.

  I had no intention of telling her I was bluffing about the DNA. “Geoff pulled strings. He already had Troy’s DNA.”

  She sighed and her shoulders slumped. “I’m sorry, Merry. I know it was a despicable thing to do. If you thought Troy was your half-brother, I felt certain you’d try to help him.”

  “But he’s not. Hiram didn’t seduce you. Who did?”

  She waved a hand. “Good ole roofies at a frat party my sophomore year. I have no idea who Troy’s father is. I didn’t want to admit that.”

  “You know, all right. You’ve always known. But I’ll bet Giles Raleigh didn’t know until recently.”

  “Giles?” All confusion. Right. “Giles Raleigh? Why would you think . . .”

  “Cut the crap, Catherine. Was it consensual or did he rape you? Don’t bother denying it. Geoff has already had Raleigh’
s DNA tested against Troy’s.” Another lie, of course, but I hoped she wouldn’t think too hard about it. Since all those CSI shows seem to take ten minutes to do ten DNA tests, I hoped she wasn’t certain how long it took to get the results back.

  She leaned back against the marathon cart. “The roofie part was true. Giles must have doped my drink at an exhibitors’ party. The drinking part was true too. Only it was Giles who did the deflowering. Hiram never knew I was pregnant. That part was true. All of it was true, really.”

  “Except for the part about my father deflowering an eighteen-year-old virgin. Catherine, all you had to do was ask for my help. You didn’t need this big charade.”

  “I was so frightened, I couldn’t be sure unless I had some hold over you.” Her hand strayed to the seat of the Meadowbrook again.

  It hit me then. Catherine didn’t know about the medical examiner’s findings that there were two wounds. She must have thought if she could get the hatpin back with Raleigh’s blood on it, no one would ever know she’d used it.

  “It’s not the same hat pin,” I said.

  “What?” She jerked her hand away from the Meadowbrook as though it was on fire. That’s when I noticed her little fingers were bandaged.

  “That pin’s Peggy’s. Geoff has yours.”

  Her face went slack. “I don’t know . . .”

  “He’s testing it for blood. Think he’ll find Raleigh’s?”

  “That’s crazy. How would I know how to kill anyone with a hatpin?”

  “You worked in your husband Paul’s office for years. He was a neurosurgeon. You knew,” I said.

  “Why on earth would I wait all these years to take revenge on Giles? Don’t be ridiculous.”

  “Because he was going to tell Troy who his father was. And you couldn’t have that.”

  She must have heard the sympathy in my voice. It did what my confrontation hadn’t.

  Geoff always said that the worst problem killers have is that they’re lonely. They can’t share what they’ve done with anyone. When they finally get the chance, they are almost relieved. For a minute or two, until they realize what they’ve said.

  “It’s over, Catherine. You wanted me to help Troy, let me help you. I’ll go with you to Geoff . . .”

  “No!” All of a sudden I was looking at an angry woman pointing a very small but deadly handgun at my stomach. “I can’t go to jail. Mother and Sandra and Paul would be mortified.”

  “Do they know who Troy is?”

  She waved me away. “He’s willing to wait to tell them. We were thinking maybe at our big family Fourth of July picnic.”

  I nearly giggled. I could hear Catherine speaking to Sandra and Paul, “Illegitimate half-brother with your barbecued ribs, kids?”

  “If you didn’t want to mortify your family, how stupid was it to use your grandmother’s antique topaz hat pin to puncture Raleigh?” I was scared pea green, but that last statement made me furious. Poor Troy. No wonder he fell for Morgan’s antics. First his mother abandons him at birth, then she finds him, but hides him from the only real relatives he’s got.

  “It was an accident. I never meant to kill Giles.”

  “Come on. You don’t stick a six inch hatpin in somebody’s brain by accident.”

  “It was the only hatpin I had with me. I stuck it in my rain hat because the wind was blowing.”

  I didn’t believe that either. Who uses a topaz hatpin in a khaki rain hat? “Tell Geoff it was an accident. I’m sure he’ll understand.”

  She snorted. “Will he understand about Gwen too?”

  Uh-oh. I kept hoping the drug people had killed her, but those bandaged fingers said otherwise. I knew exactly how she’d hurt herself.

  “Little bitch saw me stick the hat pin in the Tollivers’ Meadowbrook and tried to blackmail me.” She narrowed her eyes. “Are you trying to blackmail me?”

  I was coming to see that Catherine was more than a little nuts, but then all killers must be a tad nuts to see the death of another human being as the solution to a personal problem. “I am not trying to blackmail you. I’m trying to help you. Does Troy know who his father is?”

  “Certainly not. Giles saw Troy and me together at a show six weeks ago and knew at once he was Troy’s father. Troy has his eyes, his nose, his build. Most people wouldn’t see the resemblance, but that egomaniac Giles guessed. Then he found out when Troy was born. Once he discovered Troy was adopted at birth in a private adoption, he stole Troy’s coffee cup and had Troy’s DNA tested. Would you believe Giles already had a copy of his own DNA chart? He told me, ‘In case of a paternity suit.’”

  “What’s that got to do with last Sunday?” I asked. “How did we get from Troy’s paternity to a four-in-hand team at six-thirty in the morning?”

  Catherine sank her rump onto the marathon carriage’s front wheel. “I begged him not to tell Troy. I held him off until last weekend, but Saturday he announced to me he didn’t intend to wait any longer to reveal himself.” She gave a sad little laugh. “He said he could use a son to keep the rest of his family in line.”

  “Those words?”

  “You bet.”

  What a rat!

  “I managed to keep Troy so busy and far enough away from Raleigh on Saturday that I knew he hadn’t spoken to Troy, but I just knew he’d pull some grandstand play before the weekend was out. If he couldn’t speak to Troy, the next best thing was to text him. That’s what they all do. I wanted to head him off there as well.

  “So I swapped phones with Troy at the motel before the party. I was right. Troy got a message asking him to come to the dressage arena at six-thirty on Sunday morning to hear some good news.” She snorted. “Good news. I assumed Giles would simply walk over from the arena, tell Troy he had a new sugar daddy, then take Troy to breakfast. I texted him in Troy’s name that he’d be there.”

  “You didn’t plan on the four-in-hand?” I asked.

  Catherine laughed. A perfectly normal laugh. We might as well be chatting over tea. I wasn’t fool enough to think she’d let her guard down completely, however. When the story was over, she was going to make her move. I just didn’t know what it was.

  “That team scared me half to death.”

  Just the way it scared me.

  “He planned to loom up out of the mist in that damned four-in-hand. It would have been Cinderella’s coach—the opening salvo. ‘All this can be yours, my son.’ Giles was surprised to see me, but he wasn’t afraid of me. He held all the cards, after all. I said Troy had sent me in his place, that I’d told him Giles was his father—which of course I hadn’t. Said Troy was too stunned to meet him yet. All that mattered was Troy’s well-being, that we could work out our differences. I climbed up on the box beside him to talk.”

  “You never planned just to talk, did you?”

  “Maybe if he hadn’t been so—the only word I can think of is gleeful—I’d have let him live. He’d won again, you see? But I came prepared, just in case. I laid my hand along the back of the seat, then . . .” Catherine shrugged.

  “It was much easier than I thought it would be. He made a funny sound and fell off the box onto the ground.” She smiled. “The horses stopped the instant I said whoa. I was proud of them. Giles always did have well-trained horses.”

  Merry closed her eyes.

  “I wrapped the reins around the whip holder before I climbed down so they wouldn’t get tangled.”

  Always thinking, even in the middle of a murder. A true horsewoman. Just not a real sane human being.

  “He was lying up against the edge of the arena. Dead, of course. I decided I could use the stake to cover up the original wound, so I pulled my hatpin out from under his skull, and stuck the stake in to cover the first wound.”

  She looked at me quizzically. “I was certain that would work. Why didn’t it?”

  “According to Geoff, the first wound would have been nearly impossible to conceal.” I was working my way around so that I was between her and the door.


  She didn’t seem to notice.

  “The medical examiner realized that there were two tracks the minute he opened the wounds,” I said. “Why on earth did you stick the pin under the seat of the Tollivers’ Meadowbrook?”

  “You showed up too early. I grabbed the pin and hid in the trees, then while you were trying to catch Giles’s horses I slipped around the end the stable. That’s when Gwen saw me.

  “That little Meadowbrook was the first cart I came to. I know you can’t ever remove all the traces of blood, and everyone knew that was my hatpin, so I stuck it between the seat and the cushion and assumed I could sneak back and remove it later that day and take it home to boil it clean. When I went back to get it, the Meadowbrook wasn’t there. Harry Tolliver said you’d borrowed it. I had to get the pin back, so I took one of his SUVs and tried to run you off the road. I got back to pick up my own truck before anyone noticed I’d left.”

  “You could have killed the horses.”

  “I had to take that chance. I prayed they’d be all right.”

  I noticed she hadn’t prayed over me and Peggy.

  “So you came to Hiram’s farm to try to remove the pin.”

  “Only I couldn’t find the cart,” Catherine sounded put upon, as though I had hidden the cart to spite her. “I was very annoyed.”

  “That’s why you nearly killed me?”

  “When you followed me across the pasture, I hid behind the road grader just to get away from you.”

  “You hit me with a two-by-four and tossed me into a cellar to get snakebit!”

  “I simply wanted to get away. You’d have been fine if you hadn’t chased after me.”

  So it was my fault for chasing her? If I’d been a fire-breathing dragon, she’d be a small pile of ash right now.

  “And then you put all those deadbolts everywhere and the keypads and all that security. I couldn’t get in to hunt for the cart.”

  “So you tried to shoot us.”

  “I most certainly did not! If I’d been aiming for you, I’d have hit you. I shot out the light. I am an excellent shot. I merely wanted time to get away. Again.”