by Toni Leland
As the three-hour time difference had exhausted her the night before, it kicked her butt in the wee hours and Kim found herself wide awake at three o’clock. She climbed out of bed and made coffee in the tiny coffeemaker on the desk. While the brew dripped, she jumped in the shower, filled with enthusiasm for the day. The hot water felt good and she thought about how she had always looked forward to each day when she was on the force. Getting to the stables early and grooming Red for the day. A soft twinge moved through her heart, but after so many years, the pain was finally beginning to ebb—as long as she didn’t allow the visuals of that day to enter her mind.
The coffee was awful, but it would do until the motel office opened at six. She sat down and started her laptop to reacquaint herself with the important points of the case. She did a detailed search on Jasper Martin. The top hits were all about his horses and his business and his show wins and so on. But the deeper she dug, the fewer stories came up about the business side of him. Then, several levels into the search, a short headline caught her eye. A news story in the local paper eight months ago mentioned tax evasion and she went for it.
Altadena horse farm owner pleads guilty to tax evasion
-- Jasper Martin, owner of Rocking J Ranch, pleaded guilty Friday to underreporting taxes by $1.1 million and not paying the farm employees’ income and Social Security taxes for two years. According to the guilty plea, Martin reported earnings of about $1.65 million between 2005 and 2008. In fact, Martin’s earnings were $3.75 million. Failure to pay employee income tax and Social Security resulted in another nonpayment of over $350,000.
“Oh wow! Jasper, you are in deep doo.”
She did a mental review of the past six months, which included Talisman’s exhibition at the Washington National Show, the same event where he showed no evidence of injury, as noted on the videos. If Jasper had just gotten snagged for tax evasion, he’d have been looking for ways to make money to get out of trouble. Kim didn’t know much about tax law, but she knew for sure that there was no statute of limitations on defrauding the government of its due. Jasper would owe the money and the huge interest for as long as it took him to pay it off. Had Talisman been a casualty of the man’s fool-hardiness? Would an insurance payment of $100,000 even make a dent in that tax debt?
Kim skimmed down the paragraphs to see if and what sentence was passed.
Martin’s assets were seized, including over $1,000,000 in cash found in a safe deposit box under Martin’s sister’s name. Additional funds were deposited in the sister’s bank account in Pasadena, and $500,000 in cash was found in a safe at the farm. Martin was prohibited from selling any horses or property until further notice.
Kim sat back, stunned. This was critical enough that Quaid should be alerted. Why he wouldn’t already know it, she couldn’t fathom, but as a responsible ex-cop, she felt obligated to share.
Once she figured out how to answer his questions about the blurred photograph.
~~
Jasper Martin’s spread was not far from the foothills of the Angeles National Forest and as Kim drove, she gaped at the barren hills that had once been lush with vegetation. Forest fires had all but decimated the terrain and, though it had been a couple of years, nothing seemed to be growing yet. She shivered. As beautiful as California was, the residents who chose to live in this part of the state existed with a cloud of imminent disaster, either from wildfires or earthquakes. But all the television footage she’d seen showed resilient people who preferred to live where they chose and take their chances with Mother Nature.
A few yards from the entrance to Jasper’s driveway, Kim pulled over to the side of the road. A classic western-style wooden sign with a brand on either side was posted over the drive: “Rocking J Ranch”. She looked at the several corrals at the front of the property. No grass, just tan dirt surrounded by box wire. A few horses stood near the fence, mildly interested in her presence. The animals did not look like top show animals, but she suspected that the good horses were kept in the barn. She eased the car forward a bit to get a look at the outbuildings. A large, expensive eight-horse trailer was parked by the main barn and a shiny silver dually sat in front of the ridiculously small house. The entire property was a little on the shabby side, not what she’d expect from such a stellar trainer. Whatever he’d been doing with his money, it hadn’t been spent on paint and upkeep.
Kim lifted her camera and clicked off several shots of the place, along with a photo of the sign and mailbox. She wasn’t sure why she wanted those pictures, but the moment was there so she used the opportunity.
A few miles down the same road, she saw a sign for riding lessons and, on impulse, turned in. The place was in no better shape than Jasper’s and Kim wondered briefly if the horse industry was in worse shape than anyone knew. Compared to some of the stables in Ohio, these were pretty sorry.
She parked the car and climbed out. A middle-aged woman came out of the barn, wiping her hands on her jeans, a smile crinkling her cheeks.
“Howdy. Welcome to the Riders Ring.”
“Hi, I’m Kim Kovak. I’m a photographer and I’m drifting around the area taking candid shots of the horse farms.”
“Well, ain’t that nice. You just make yourself at home. I got a lesson starting in a couple minutes. You’re welcome to take pictures. I’m sure she won’t mind.”
“Thanks, that would be super.” Kim fell into step alongside the woman. “Say, I stopped down the road at Rocking J Ranch and the place looks deserted.”
The woman clucked her tongue. “That man is in so much trouble. An’ I worry about those horses.”
“Oh? The ones in the corral looked fine to me.”
“Oh, I don’t mean they’re abused or anything. It’s just that Jasper has had several animals stolen right out from under his nose. Can’t figure out why the thieves keep targeting his place, but maybe because he ain’t there a lot.” She threw a knowing glance toward Kim. “He’s in trouble with the tax people. Probably trying to stay under their radar.”
Kim had to swallow hard to keep from blurting out a bunch of questions.
“That’s too bad. Stolen horses, huh? I think I’d keep them under lock and key if it were happening to me.”
The woman shrugged. “I think he gets paid from the insurance company. Boy, I’d be devastated if anyone stole any of my babies. I don’t have kids, so my horses are my family.”
Kim followed the woman into the small barn. It was compact with no frills, but it was clean and in good repair. Six stall doors stood open and a young girl tossed soiled bedding into a wheelbarrow in the aisle.
Kim watched a thirty-something woman hoist her ample body onto the back of a roan Quarter Horse.
“I’d like to take some photographs of you during your lesson. Is that okay?”
The woman beamed. “Sure.”
Kim pulled out a model release and handed it up, along with a pen. “If you’d just sign this, it gives me your permission to use the photos as I see fit.”
“Will I be in a magazine?”
“You never know.”
Kim followed the two out into the paddock, her thoughts on the interesting tidbits about Jasper. She was dying to get back to her car so she could write everything down. But for now, she’d have to carry on with her charade.
For the next twenty minutes, she snapped off photos, barely bothering to compose them. Her mind was ablaze with the thought of Jasper being the “victim” of theft so many times. Add Teri’s curious instances of disappearing horses, and the connection between the two began to look very suspicious. A sharp pain lurched through Kim’s chest. Teri was dead, so they’d never know if she was intentionally involved.
Unless Kim could connect everyone to the mystery couple.
~~
Quaid stepped out of the L.A. airport into the late afternoon heat. Several shuttle buses sat at the curb and he found the right one to take him to the car rental lot. Mentally, he went over his proposed itinerary for the next cou
ple of days. First would be a visit to Jasper Martin’s place. The guy would be caught off guard and that might give Quaid the upper hand.
He pulled out his cell phone and scanned through the numbers until he found Kim Kovak.
She answered on the third ring. “Mr. Quaid.”
“Hi, we had a bad connection yesterday, so I wanted to get back with you about that photograph.”
“Can you describe the one you’re talking about? I have thousands of pictures.”
“Jasper Martin’s horse jumping at the Washington National Horse Show.”
“Oh, right. And what was your question?”
Quaid scowled. He hated playing games. “Some people standing at the rail are blurred out. Why is that?”
“Oh, that’s easy. If I don’t have a model release for people who appear in my photographs, I have to fix it so they can’t be recognized.”
“I see. So what about the same photograph on your website?”
She hesitated only briefly, then, “Must be an oversight. Thanks for pointing that out. I’ll get it fixed when I get back to...when I get home.”
Quaid wasn’t sure he believed her, but what could he do? He didn’t even know what significance the blurred faces might have.
Kovak’s tone changed. “Hey, listen, did you know that Jasper was in trouble with the IRS?”
Quaid sat up straight. “He is? How did you find that out?”
“I came across it on Google one day when I was searching for something for Teri. The information might be important to your investigation.”
Quaid’s brain tried to juggle the new information and put it into perspective. Why had Kovak been searching for Jasper? And what did it have to do with Teri Fortune? If his suspicions were correct, Kovak’s undercover investigation was running parallel to his. He smiled wickedly. With any luck, he could nail this one without her knowing she’d helped.
“Thanks, I appreciate the tip. I’m out of town right now, but I’ll be in touch when I get back next week.”
“I’ll be around.”
~~
Kim closed her phone with a decisive snap. She’d done her good deed for the day, no, for the week. Quaid had information that would help him, and she’d managed to extricate herself from the blurred photograph predicament.
An hour later, she pulled into the parking area of the show facility where she’d be taking pictures the next day. Horse trailers and trucks were already in place and, in the outdoor corrals, riders worked their horses. She headed for the building that housed the show office.
To her surprise, Clark Jennings was at the desk. He jumped up, smiling.
“Hey, good to see you.” He shook her hand, then turned to another man standing by a file cabinet. “Meet George, he’s the ring steward for the show. You’ll be able to count on him to help you out or answer questions. Boy, I can’t tell you how glad I am that you were able to do this for us. I was in deep stuff.”
Kim filled out the paperwork and gathered up her passes and name tag. “I’ll just go wander around, get a feel for lighting and background.”
She walked through the grounds, then entered the main stabling barn. Every stall was occupied and owners were busy with final preparations for three days of hard work. She walked up and down the aisles, looking at the horses and reading the names on the doors. She did the same in the next two barns. Just before the end of the last aisle, she stopped short.
Three empty stalls were marked “Rocking J Ranch.”
Chapter 20
Quaid checked into a motel not far from downtown Pasadena. After setting the air conditioning to a less than Arctic level, he examined a map of the area. Martin’s ranch was in Altadena, an easy 10 minute drive due north. Quaid glanced at his watch. Almost seven-thirty, a good time to pay a surprise visit. But he first wanted to check out the information Kovak had given him.
Jasper’s name was all over the place with regard to his training and his winning horses, so Quaid fine-tuned the search to include “IRS.” The first article that came up looked promising. As Quaid read through the lengthy piece, he saw a couple of factors that could figure into the man’s involvement in a theft ring. A face-to-face meeting with the trainer would give Quaid a better feel for the idea.
He looked at the map again. When his investigation here was finished, he could jump on the 210 and drive right into San Bernardino, the same route the horse hauler had taken. Quaid folded the map, collected his room key, and headed for the car. Easing into the traffic, he thought again about Kovak’s glib answer regarding the blurred photograph. Why hadn’t she just told him that the first time he’d asked? Because she’d needed time to think about it, that’s why. Which probably meant it wasn’t the real reason, and possibly not even a valid answer.
He put his phone on speaker and dialed.
“Hey, it’s me, Garrett Quaid. What’s the newspaper’s policy on photographs of people? Do you need to get a release from anyone whose picture you take?”
“That depends on the situation. For interviews and stuff, yeah, we get a release.”
“What about a public event?”
“Nah, anyone who attends something like that is considered fair game. We only get releases from people we name in a photograph.”
“So someone in the crowd wouldn’t have any right to complain if you published a photo with them in it?”
“Pretty much, unless the photo incriminated them in some way. You know, like catching a guy kissing someone other than his wife, or a person in a place they’re not supposed to be. Then they might come after us for invasion of privacy, but it would be a tough claim to win.”
“Thanks, you’ve been a big help. Sorry to call so late.”
“No problem. Let’s get together for a beer one of these days.”
“You got it.”
Quaid disconnected and glowered out the windshield. This was beginning to read like a bad novel.
Fifteen minutes later, he drove slowly along the dirt driveway leading to Jasper Martin’s barn. A small black car was parked by the door and lights were on inside the building.
He stepped through the entrance and called out, “Jasper? You here?”
A woman appeared from a room at the back. “He already left. You just missed him.”
Quaid looked around. Most of the stalls were empty and the place had a faint odor of urine.
“Will he back soon?”
She cocked her head. “Not until he’s done showing horses on Saturday. Is there something I can help you with?”
Quaid’s brain throttled into high gear. Here was a chance to get some information that Jasper might not offer up. Should he tell her who he really was? Or just play dumb.
He went for dumb.
“Well, maybe. Jasper told me about a horse he had for sale out in Ohio, an’ I just wanted a little more information about the animal.” Quaid looked around the aisle. “Thought I’d take a look at some of the other stock he has too.”
The woman’s forehead wrinkled. “Ohio? You must have misunderstood him. The only horse he has out there is his champion show jumper. He wouldn’t be selling him.”
Quaid pretended to be perplexed. “Jeez, I’m pretty sure he said the horse was in Ohio. Hmm, maybe Iowa? They sound sorta the same.”
“The only sale horses I know about are right here. You want to have a look?”
“Yeah, sure.” He chuckled. “Why not? It might save me a trip to Ohio. Or Iowa. Whatever.”
“All the animals in the front pasture are for sale, and two of the show horses. I was just about to bring them in.”
“How many does Jasper have?”
She snorted. “More than I can handle alone, that’s for sure.”
“Gosh, you do all the work?”
“Yeah. Barn help is hard to keep. They’re a transient bunch.” She grabbed a halter from a hook by the door. “I’m pretty much stuck with the obligation, since I’m his sister.”
Quaid followed her out the back door, sort
ing out all the new information to see where it fit. Five horses in the front pasture and two show horses, all for sale. Smacked of financial trouble. No employees. Smacked of even more trouble. One last question and a quick look at the sale horses, then he’d get back on the road.
The woman slipped a halter over the ears of a nice-looking palomino mare, then led her through the gate.
“If you’re looking for a show horse, this mare would be perfect. She has some wins under her belt and she’s got a pedigree like nobody’s business, in case you wanted to breed her.”
Quaid stroked the horse’s neck, mildly surprised at how the touch brought a tightness into his chest. “She’s real nice. Is she a jumper?”
“No, Western Pleasure. You want to try her?”
“Well, I’m actually looking for a jumper. Say, why is Jasper selling all these horses? He getting out of the business?”
The woman’s pleasant expression disappeared and she pinned him with a hard look. “Who are you? If you’re with the IRS, you can just pound sand. I’m not tellin’ you anything.”
Quaid was genuinely surprised by the attack. “Whoa! Hey, I’m just horse shopping. If you can’t be civil, I’ll just be on my way.” He turned back toward the barn, struggling to keep a smile from giving him up.
Her voice followed him. “If you really are interested in buying something, you can go talk to my brother at the horse show.”
Driving back toward Pasadena, Quaid tallied the information he’d gathered from the sister.
Either she didn’t know about the Talisman switch, or she was quite the actress.
Jasper no longer had employees, probably with good reason. If he hadn’t paid Social Security and income tax, they’d be pretty pissed.
Jasper was actively trying to sell off horses, even though he’d been prohibited from doing so by the government. How would he get away with that?
Was the woman in the barn the same sister mentioned in the news article? The one whose name was on the bank accounts?