by J. L. Wilson
I followed her gaze and saw Liza the mini-pony, her dark brown head sticking out of the back window. "That was nice of you," I said noncommittally.
Mina snorted. "It wasn't my idea, believe me."
"Why am I not surprised?" I murmured.
"Mina?" Rosemary called from the sidelines. "We're still having trouble with water in the basement. When is that inspector going to come by?"
Mina smiled brightly and falsely at the audience on the curb. "I've called him, Rosemary. I'm not sure what his schedule is." She turned back to Tinsley, cutting off any further conversation from the peanut gallery. "Her water problems are going to kill me," she muttered.
"Is that a horse?" Tinsley asked, staring past us to the SUV.
"She's a guide-horse," I explained. "She's a miniature pony. Retired."
"A guide horse?" He looked at Liza, who tossed her head. I blinked in surprise at the pink splotch displayed on her neck when her blonde mane flew up. Liza turned to peer at the Winnebago and I saw an equally bright blotch of turquoise on the other side of her neck.
"She's multi-colored," Tinsley said.
I struggled not to grin. "She's a horse of a different color, I guess." My impulse to smile faded when he turned his flat, impersonal gaze on me. "It's a joke. She lives on Mel's farm. There aren't a lot of foster homes for retired guide ponies." I was babbling, but the FBI agent's stark, impersonal gaze seemed to prod the words out of me. "Mel finds foster homes as part of the Foster Freedom program, providing homes for animals who were used in research or did service jobs, like Liza." I waved toward the small pony, who blew out an impatient breath.
"Why is she colored?" Tinsley eyed the pony, who eyed him in return.
"She's covered with paint. She got into it at the hardware store," Mina said impatiently. "Drew, would you please move the cars so we can get closer to Mel's house? I figured if I could get the horse to the turnaround, Dorothy could walk her up the hill."
"Thanks for volunteering me," I snapped.
"You're good with animals." Mina dismissed me by turning to Tinsley. "I'm Mina Wickman." She leaned over the tape and handed him a business card. "If you're new to town, perhaps I can help you find a house. I run the biggest real estate agency in town."
Tinsley examined the card then eyed her, his icy blue gaze unblinking. "W.W. Wickman?"
"Wanda Wilhelmina," Mina said smoothly. She lobbed a glare toward her mother. "I choose not to use my given names. I prefer Mina instead."
Glynnis sighed. Mina's disenchantment with her name was well-known in town. "I'm the culprit who saddled her with the names." She extended her hand. "Glynnis Samuel."
Tinsley ignored her hand. "I doubt I'll be in town that long." He pocketed the business card and turned back to Drew, missing Mina's disappointed expression and Glynnis' raised eyebrow at his rudeness.
"Mina is Wade's stepbrother," Drew said. "Perhaps she knows why Wade was in town."
"Wade's in town?" Mina turned toward my house, as though expecting to see Wade waving from a window. "Is he visiting you?"
"Why would Wade visit me?" I asked the group at large. "We're divorced. I haven't heard from him for years." Their assumption that Wade came to see me began to grate on my already tattered nerves.
Liza whinnied from the SUV. We all turned to view the little horse and saw her watching Mel, who hurried down the hill on the gravel path connecting the old farmhouse to the subdivision below it. Deputy Ginger went to intercept Mel and prevent her from approaching the Winnebago on the east side.
Mina eyed the crashed vehicle. "Who's RV?"
"Wade's." I watched her as I said it. She frowned but didn't seem surprised. "Did you know he was here?"
"Of course not. Wade and I severed our business relationship years ago." Mina went to the SUV. "Can you help me with her? She's heavy."
I started toward the SUV but stopped when I realized that Mina was talking to Tinsley. He ducked under the tape and joined Mina at the Escalade. I took advantage of their absence to mutter to Drew, "Why is an FBI guy in town?"
"He's here because of Wade." Drew watched as Mina opened the rear door and removed a two-foot square gray plastic step, similar to the ones Hank had in the hardware store to help customers reach items on high shelves. She positioned the step outside the rear of the SUV then opened the hatch. Tinsley stood to one side, watching this operation, but leaned forward as Liza peered from the SUV. The FBI man and the pony regarded each other with similar quizzical expressions.
"What about Wade?" I asked. "Did he do something wrong?"
Drew turned to me, his pale green eyes perplexed. "Tinsley said Wade was involved in a drug operation." His expression was wary and searching. "He said Wade was working with someone here in town."
"Someone in town?" I shook my head. "Who?"
Drew's gaze didn't falter. "I'll give you a couple of guesses."
Chapter 3
I gaped at Drew. "You're crazy-- me? They suspect me?"
"That's silly, Drew." Glynnis' cool, crisp voice calmed me immediately. "Drugs? What kind of drugs?"
"Heroin." Drew's eyes went from me to my house to Tinsley. "The Kansas City field office told me they were sending somebody. I guess he's it."
"Wade Esterson doesn't have the nerve to run a drug operation." Glynnis shot me a charitable look. "I never understood why you married him, Dorothy. You're twice as smart and three times nicer than he ever was."
I blushed at the compliment. "Thank you, Glynnis. I guess it's my fate to get tangled up with men who are either cowardly, heartless, or brainless."
"Which one was I?" Drew regarded me steadily, his eyes faintly accusing.
I blushed a deeper red but was saved from answering by Glynnis, who laughed. "You were all three, Drew. You were cowardly not to sweep her off her feet, heartless to watch her marry Wade, and brainless to let it happen."
Drew stiffened. "Tell us what you really think, Glynnis."
"Have you seen Baby Dot, Dorothy?" Mel asked as she and Deputy Ginger reached us, staying outside the taped-off area. "I haven't talked to her yet. I'm worried."
"The kids at the school are fine," Rosemary called from the sidelines where she, her daughters, and the Professor were still waiting. "Ben called Lou. He said all the kids were okay."
"Ben Brightman." Ginger's voice dripped with sarcasm. "You mean Ben Not-So-Bright."
I glanced at Rosemary, but she didn't hear this slur on her daughter's boyfriend. Although uncharitable, Ginger was right. Ben Brightman was a former high school football star who answered almost every question with "Don't know." I'm not sure if he answered that way because he didn't know or because he was lazy.
"I still wish she'd call," Mel said worriedly. "Who's that?"
I peered past Drew to Tinsley, who was guiding Liza out of the SUV and onto the pavement. He appeared bemused. I suppose he had never seen a miniature horse before, especially one as gaily painted as Liza. "He's an FBI guy."
"Why is an FBI guy in town?" Mel didn't wait for an answer but brushed past Ginger. "Be careful, she's a bit deaf."
I turned to Drew. He seemed troubled and I wondered if he was mulling over what Glynnis said. Rather than stay to rehash our past, I ducked under the tape to join Mel, who watched anxiously as Liza clambered from the SUV and placidly regarded us.
"I was right," Mina said, leaning in to check the interior of the SUV. "There's a spot of yellow paint there." She brushed against Tinsley as she did so and appeared to lose her balance. Tinsley put a hand under her arm to steady her. "Thank you. I'm slightly dizzy. I suppose I'm still upset from the tornado."
I intercepted a disbelieving glance from Glynnis. We both grinned. The last time Mina was upset was when she lost to me in a golf match a week earlier at the Country Club. Weather didn't upset Mina. The loss of social standing did.
Mel ran a hand down Liza's neck. "She's wet."
"She's got paint on her," I said gently. The pony was liberally splattered with pink, turquoise and yel
low colors but I knew Mel wouldn't be able to discern it. "How will you get the paint off?"
Mel's gaze went from me to Liza, bewildered. "Paint?"
"What a combination," Glynnis murmured. "A deaf pony and a color blind owner."
"What color is it?" Mel asked.
"Chief Strawn, can I talk with you?" Tinsley maneuvered around us all and stepped in front of Mel, who was trying to clip a lead to Liza's harness. The little pony evaded the action by tossing her head, making Mina step back to avoid paint splatters. This in turn made me step back, almost dislodging the tape. "You all need to wait there," Tinsley snapped. "This is a crime scene."
His words stopped everyone in their tracks. "Crime scene?" Glynnis asked, breaking the stasis that held us all paralyzed.
"A man is dead in there." Tinsley nodded toward the RV. Liza, unaware of police procedure, evaded Mel to duck under the crime scene tape. She trotted diagonally across the concrete road toward the only thing she cared about, which was grass. When she came to the other length of crime scene tape on the Professor's side of the street, Liza nudged it with her nose and slipped under it to crop at grass on the Professor's lawn.
Tinsley glared at the little pony, who continued chomping, unmindful of his baleful gaze. "She's not hurting anything." Mel ran a hand through her untidy brown hair, streaking it with the turquoise color acquired from Liza's neck. She hurried to the pony's side, carefully staying outside the crime-scene-taped area. "I'll take her home."
Tinsley started toward them but stopped when I said, "For heaven's sake, if you need to process footprints or something, I think you'll find Liza has the only hoof prints in the neighborhood." I paused as I reconsidered my words. "Okay, there's Jim, he's a retired circus horse. His owner keeps him at the fairgrounds in the stables there." I gestured vaguely to the east, past Mel's farm. "And there's Stamper, of course. He's Baby Dot's old pony and he's usually at the pasture." I shut my mouth when Tinsley turned slowly to regard me, his blue eyes wide with disbelief. "It's farm country," I said faintly.
Tinsley dismissed my stammering explanation by turning to Drew. "Chief Strawn, you need to secure the area."
I decided to escape while I could. "Excuse me." I tried to slip past Tinsley so I could help Mel corral the pony. As I did, Tinsley turned and I stepped back, tripping over a tree limb. I tumbled backward into Mina's SUV, bounced against the grill and headed for the pavement.
Tinsley whirled, dropped, and grabbed me until I reclined in his arms like a tango dancer. I stared into his eyes as I clutched his muscular biceps. "Sorry," I stammered. "I'm a klutz. I didn't see you."
His cold gaze softened for an instant. "I'm hard to miss." He straightened, pulling me to my feet. "I need to talk to you, Mrs. Esterson."
"Gaylord," I corrected. "I'm going to help Mel with Liza. I'll be right back."
"I think you should wait here." His blue eyes, so briefly human, resumed their cold, robotic gaze as he released my arms.
"I can manage, Dorothy." Mel clipped a lead to Liza's halter. "What about tornado damage, Drew? Does anyone need help?"
Good heavens. I'd almost forgotten about the tornado in the excitement of finding the RV. "Is everyone okay?" I turned back to Drew but tangled with the police tape, almost tearing it free of its moorings. At this rate, I'd be lucky to make it back to my house without breaking a leg. I wasn't usually so clumsy, but the beefy FBI agent seemed to be everywhere I moved. How could one person occupy so much space?
"Why don't you wait at your home until I can talk to you." Tinsley wasn't making a suggestion. "It won't be long."
I started to protest this peremptory treatment when Drew said, "I don't believe the FBI has jurisdiction here." His quiet voice held an undercurrent of anger.
I turned. Drew was only a foot or two away, his eyes intent on Tinsley. It was like watching a sleek golden Labrador retriever confronting a burly mastiff.
"Sorry, Chief." Tinsley smiled briefly but it didn't defrost his cold gaze. "I assumed you would be busy with storm problems." I noticed he didn't mention jurisdiction and who had the rights to what.
Drew's gaze didn't waver. "Deputies Majors and Wane will handle that." Don Wane was one of our other full-time deputies. He lived north of town and was probably on patrol there now, checking storm damage. Drew's gaze returned to the RV. "I'll handle this. Mel, take Liza home. Keep her away from the tape. Deputy Majors, you coordinate with our first responders and Citizen Volunteers to assess the damage."
Ginger straightened and I thought she might salute. Instead she nodded briskly and strode to her squad car, shooting Tinsley a reproving look as she passed.
"Will do, Chief." Mel tugged on Liza's lead and the pony fell into step beside her. "I'll talk to you later, Dorothy. Let me get my girl settled." They ambled toward the turnaround, careful to stay on the strip of grass that bordered the crime scene tape.
Drew watched them briefly then turned to me. "Why don't you wait at home, Dorothy? I'll be along to talk to you soon."
His words were almost exactly the same as Tinsley's, but the difference in tone was obvious. I nodded. "I'm glad to help however I can, Drew." I stalked past Tinsley to join the Professor at curbside while Glynnis fell into step beside me.
Kim, Lou, and Rosemary Gilley were busily talking on their cell phones. Word of the FBI arrival, the overturned RV, and Wade was probably all over Broomfield by now and would soon be ebbing toward Kansas City, ninety-minutes to the east via Interstate. Nothing could beat a Gossip Girl cell phone for news spread.
"Rosemary said there are trees down everywhere," the Professor commented as I neared him. "She talked to a friend of hers who was at the Club when the storm hit. That big oak on Number Seven was uprooted. She said a couple of trailers in the Whirling Wizard Trailer Park got tipped, but otherwise they survived. If that's the worst that happened, we may have come through this storm okay."
"Except for Wade." I stopped and stared at the toppled Winnebago. Tinsley stood to one side, watching Drew extract a camera from the bag on the ground. "Will it take long? Will they take his body someplace?"
Glynnis put an arm around my shoulders. "Let's all go inside." She made a shooing motion to the Gilley women. "You girls go home."
The boom of a slamming door made me jump. "Mother, I'm going back to work." Mina sounded annoyed as she leaned briefly on the back hatch on the SUV.
"Fine, dear," Glynnis said placidly. "Morgan or Dorothy will give me a ride to my car." She resumed going toward my house, pulling the Professor and me along with her.
"Fine." Mina yanked open the driver's door on the Escalade and flung herself inside. The engine roared to life and tires screeched as she abruptly backed up, turned and took off down the street leaving Tinsley, the RV, and the rest of us in her dust.
"I think Mina is peeved," I muttered.
Glynnis' fingers tightened slightly on my upper arm. "I'm sure she is. I enjoy doing that. I shouldn't, but I do. Mina is so much fun to annoy."
The Professor laughed. "You're a scamp, Glyn. I can't believe Mina's your child." Then he winced. "I'm sorry. That was rude."
"That was honest. Mina takes after her father, William the Bastard." Glynnis paused on my front step. "My father built this house for William and me as a wedding present. I liked it when I lived here. I suppose it was only fitting that I got it when I divorced him."
"And I'm pleased you chose to sell it to me and that your father sold the farm to Mel and Hank." I opened the front door and ushered them inside. "If your ex had his way, this whole area would be an apartment complex now. It was bad enough he built that mall where he did. I still don't know why he didn't build it closer to town."
"He wanted to build it where the farm sits, but my father sold the property to Mel and Hank just to spite William." Glynnis led the way through my front foyer along the short hall to the kitchen. "I think it's poetic justice that they use it as a haven for displaced animals. My ex-husband certainly displaced Mina and me when he took up with Wade'
s mother years ago."
An uncomfortable silence enveloped us. I bustled past Glynnis to the sink, turning on the faucet to ostensibly check the water. I was surprised by her reference to the old scandal but I suppose bad memories die hard. When Mina and I were in high school, Glynnis' husband, William the Bastard, embarked on an affair with Wade's mother. Eventually all the parties involved divorced their spouses, leaving William free to marry his paramour.
Glynnis later married retired Navy Captain William Samuel, nicknamed Captain Billy. He died a decade or so ago, after twenty happy years of marriage. William the Bastard died around the same time, leaving his real estate business to Mina with the stipulation that she add Wade as a business partner. Wade's mother developed Alzheimer's and lived out her days in a nursing home until she died a few years ago.
"I'm surprised Mina didn't know Wade was in town. After all, they were business partners years ago plus they were step-brother and step-sister. I thought they would stay in touch." The Professor went to my back door to peer out. "Mina always watched out for Wade, didn't she? I think your shed took a beating, Dorothy."
His casual tone lightened the tension in the room. "That shed was about as old as the town," I said. "I'm glad to see it gone."
"What is that noise?" Glynnis asked, turning to peer around the room.
I listened. It sounded like a thumping or yowling noise. "Damn. I forgot. SoSo's in the basement." I headed for the steps when my doorbell rang. "Could you get that, Glynnis? I'd like to get him out of his cage before he does something nasty, like poop all over everything."
"You have the patience of a saint with that devil," the Professor said.
"Oh, he's not that bad."
The Professor gave me a long suffering look. "I pet sat for you last year. I know what he can do."
Glynnis waved me away. "Go tame the beast. I'll handle your company."
I raced down the basement steps. A moist, grass-laden breeze eddied into the craft room from my broken window. I ignored SoSo's angry growl and grabbed a piece of spare lumber left over from the construction of a book case for my den upstairs. I hastily nailed it into the frame over the window, blocking most of the gap. I made a mental note to call Sean Mansfield, Broomfield's resident ex-hippy handyman, to have him come over and fix it.