3 A Basket of Trouble

by Beth Groundwater

  Copyright Information

  A Basket of Trouble: A Claire Hanover Mystery © 2013 by Beth Groundwater.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any matter whatsoever, including Internet usage, without written permission from Midnight Ink, except in the form of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

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  Any unauthorized usage of the text without express written permission of the publisher is a violation of the author’s copyright and is illegal and punishable by law.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  First e-book edition © 2013

  E-book ISBN: 9780738737874

  Book design by Donna Burch

  Cover design by Kevin R. Brown

  Cover illustration © Glenn Gustafson

  Editing by Connie Hill

  Midnight Ink is an imprint of Llewellyn Worldwide Ltd.

  Midnight Ink does not participate in, endorse, or have any authority or responsibility concerning private business arrangements between our authors and the public.

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  Manufactured in the United States of America

  In memory of my two grandmothers,

  Mary and Grace,

  two women of indomitable courage, wit, and will,

  who inspired me to try harder and reach higher.

  Acknowledgments

  My readers know that I love to dive into research for my mysteries, and this book is no exception. Many thanks to Walter Hampel, General Manager of Academy Riding Stables in Colorado Springs, for answering my questions about how a trail riding operation works, from hiring wranglers to doctoring sick horses to managing clueless tourists. Also, thank you, Nancy Harrison, hippotherapist and co-owner of Mark Reyner Stables and the Colorado Springs Therapeutic Riding Center, for explaining to me how hippotherapy works and for allowing me to observe a few of those small miracles blossom in some sessions. Also, thanks for what you do to help disabled people live better lives!

  Thanks to farrier Chris May for allowing me to observe him shoeing horses while I peppered him with questions and took photos. And last but certainly not least, thanks to Thomas J. Hurley, Attorney at Law specializing in immigration law, for patiently answering my naïve questions about the convoluted and complex provisions of immigration law. If I got anything wrong in this book on those topics, it was due to my own errors in thinking or interpretation of the advice given to me by these three patient souls and of the information I gathered from my own reading.

  Just to give you an idea of what my own research included, other topics I read up on included names, breeds, and colors of horses; horse tack; the meanings of sounds that horses make; cowboy work wear; birds found in the Garden of the Gods; Down syndrome; autism; certification requirements for occupational therapists; human smuggling; and policies of the U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services and the Department of Labor. One thing I enjoy about writing mysteries is all the learning that takes place as I delve into new topics!

  Thanks to my critique group, Vic Cruikshank, Maria Faulconer, Barbara Nickless, MB Partlow, and Robert Spiller, for your astute feedback on the rough manuscript. Many thanks to my literary agent, Sandra Bond, who works tirelessly on my behalf and keeps me out of contract trouble. Thanks to Terri Bischoff, Acquisition Editor at Midnight Ink, and Connie Hill, Senior Editor, who made sure the book’s prose was the best it could be. Thanks to Donna Burch for the book design and to Kevin R. Brown for the red-and-green holiday-colored cover that is ideal for a November-released gift basket designer mystery. Thanks also to all of the staff at Midnight Ink who toil behind the scenes to produce and market the books in my Claire Hanover gift basket designer series.

  And lastly, I would like to thank the avid readers of the Claire Hanover gift basket designer series who take the time to write and tell me what they like—and don’t like—about the books. I write them for you!

  one:

  the opening

  “Would you please stop fidgeting?”

  Claire Hanover jumped, startled out of her troubled thoughts by the bemused sound of her husband’s voice. She looked out the car window and saw they still had a ways to go. Then she glanced at Roger sitting beside her, his steady hands on the steering wheel.

  “Sorry,” she said. “I’m anxious about the stable’s opening event. I want everything to go well for Charley’s new business.”

  “Honey, I’m sure everything will be fine.” Roger took his gaze off the road for a moment to eye her hands. “And if you keep picking at the cellophane on that gift basket, you’ll tear it open before your brother gets a chance to.”

  She stilled her nervous fingers and pressed her palms against the sides of the large gift basket on her lap. She had taken a lot of care in choosing the contents and decorating it with vintage horse tack and a bow made from a horse-themed bandana. The last thing she wanted was to destroy the basket before Charley could even see it.

  Claire took a deep breath to calm herself and slowly blew it out. “Okay, okay, I’ll try to be still.”

  Roger reached over and gave her arm a squeeze. “We’ll be there soon.”

  She peered at the cornflower blue Colorado sky where a few puffy white clouds floated on a light breeze. At least the weather was holding for the opening. Being early June, the summer monsoon season hadn’t kicked in yet, with its afternoon thunderstorms. Claire wondered how the summer storms would affect the trail rides through the Garden of the Gods Park that Charley was offering at his stable. But, he had dealt with the same weather pattern in Durango before he relocated to Colorado Springs a few months ago.

  In fact, her younger brother and his wife, Jessica, had managed his stable business in Durango very capably for quite a few years. But then the economic downturn had dried up tourism in Durango. After struggling to hold on, Charley had looked around for alternatives. Anxious to help, Claire had suggested he investigate Colorado Springs, where she and Roger lived, because summer tourism was still fairly steady there.

  In a serendipitous turn of events, the owners of a large parcel of commercial land near the intersection of Garden of the Gods Road and 30th Street were happy to negotiate a lease with an option to buy. And, Charley was able to reach an agreement with the city to run commercial horseback trail rides down Foothills Trail through the adjacent Blair Bridge Open Space and into the scenic Garden of the Gods Park.

  Thankfully, Charley had found a buyer for his property in Durango. That gave him the funds to make the move and buy a downsized home in Colorado Springs. They didn’t need as much space because their son, like Claire’s and Roger’s two kids, was grown and on his own. An added benefit of the relocation was that Charley would be living closer to Claire. She hoped that would bring
their relationship closer, too. They had been drifting apart lately, and that bothered her.

  She needed to find out why.

  “Here we are,” Roger announced.

  He turned his BMW X5 into the newly paved parking lot, taking the last open spot. People from other cars were walking under the brand-new wooden sign suspended between two huge peeled logs cemented into the ground. It proclaimed ‘Gardner’s Stables’ and gave off an aura of strength and permanence. Claire crossed her fingers and hoped the aura proved true.

  She unbuckled her seatbelt and reached for the car door handle, but Roger stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. “Maybe this will help calm your nerves.” He leaned in and gave her a proper smooch and a hug.

  By the end of the long sweet kiss, Claire was smiling. As Roger pulled back, she gazed into the puppy dog brown eyes behind his bifocal glasses. She raised a hand to caress the bald spot above his graying hair.

  “I love you. You know that, don’t you?” After their earlier troubles, she found every opportunity she could to remind him.

  “Of course.” Lifting a lock of her shoulder-length hair, dyed blonde to hide the gray, he inhaled the scent of her peach-lavender shampoo. “And I love you, too.”

  Claire ran a teasing finger up his arm. “And now you’ve got my mind on other things besides the opening!”

  Roger laughed and gave her a wink. “Almost fifty, and I’ve still got it. Sit still and I’ll come around to get the basket from you so you can get out.”

  While they walked up the path and under the sign, Claire surveyed the stable as if she were seeing it for the first time like the other attendees. A beige office trailer sat off to the left behind the sign, where customers went inside to pay and sign liability forms. Charley had bought it used from a housing developer who was downsizing. Some of the guests sat at the half dozen wooden picnic tables in front of the trailer. Jessica and Charley had planted a few new hackberry and crabapple trees among the tables, hoping they would eventually grow and provide shade. For now, a retractable awning over the trailer’s wooden porch provided some shade for the built-in seating along its rails.

  Charley had placed two handicap-accessible port-a-potties discreetly behind the trailer. Off to the right was a corral where wranglers watered the horses and matched customers to their mounts. Behind the trailer and corral stood the newly built barn. A large fenced-in pasture behind the barn provided an exercise area for the horses.

  Gardner’s Stables was small compared to many other local stables, especially the well-established Peak View Stables south of the Garden of the Gods that Charley would be competing with. But Claire thought it looked like a clean, well-run operation. She prayed silently that the move would turn out to be a good one for her brother. She could see him laying all of the blame at her feet for suggesting it if it went bad.

  “Claire! Roger!” Jessica waved at them from the trailer porch and skipped down the steps to greet them.

  Petite and athletic with freckled skin and red hair tied back in a ponytail, Jessica exuded energy. Her long Western print skirt swirled around her calves as she hurried toward them. Being in her forties hadn’t seemed to slow her down at all. Claire felt gawky and slow next to her brother’s wife, but she always enjoyed Jessica’s lively spirit. Especially since Jessica had been able to retain that spirit after the early tragedy in her marriage to Charley.

  Jessica hugged Claire and gave Roger a peck on the cheek, then looked at the large basket in his arms. “What’s this?”

  “One of my gift baskets for you and Charley,” Claire said. “To celebrate the opening. It’s full of local treats and a bottle of wine from Holy Cross Abbey. I hope you like it.”

  “Oh, wow, you managed to get Charley’s favorite candy. Horehound is so hard to find.” Jessica peeked through the cellophane at the other items nestled inside. “And are those chocolates from the Rocky Mountain Chocolate Factory for me?” When Claire nodded, she said, “This is wonderful. You didn’t need to do this!”

  “I know,” Claire replied. “But I’m so glad you two have moved here, and I thought this was the perfect occasion to let you know. Now that construction is done and your business is open, I hope we can see more of you. I feel like I talked to Charley more often when you lived in Durango.”

  Jessica shot her a guilty look, but before Claire could say anything, Roger hefted the basket and asked, “Where should I put this?”

  “How about on the food table?” Jessica pointed toward a cafeteria table set up in the shade of a copse of native scrub oak trees. It was covered with a bright red-checked tablecloth pinned at the corners. Two small bunches of balloons were tied to either end. “It’ll be the centerpiece. Maybe some folks will notice it and ask you to make them a gift basket. Did you bring cards?”

  Claire waved her hand. “No, this is your special day. I’m not going to advertise my business at your opening!”

  Jessica shrugged and led them to the table, where people were helping themselves to lemonade, iced tea, and chocolate chip, sugar, and oatmeal-raisin cookies. She moved a couple of cookie trays to make room for the basket. Roger set it down, looking grateful to finally be rid of his burden.

  Jessica stepped back, wiping her hands. “Perfect. Now, where’s Charley? He needs to know you’re here.”

  At that moment, Charley exited the barn with a family of five. He wore a crisp maroon Western snap shirt with white detailing and dark blue jeans with a crease. His cowboy boots had maroon-stained scrollwork on the toes, and he wore a broad-brimmed fawn-colored felt cowboy hat with a braided leather band. Claire wondered if Jessica had recently bought the whole outfit to gussy him up for the opening.

  He made a sweeping motion with his arm toward the west, where the gray rock formations on the Glen Eyrie Castle grounds loomed. “It’s a gorgeous location,” he said with a proud grin. “Those grayish yellow chalk and shale hogback ridges come from the Cretaceous period. And the white limestone and red sandstone ridges in the Garden of the Gods Park date all the way back to the Triassic and Permian periods.”

  As the family stared at him with puzzled faces, Charley smiled. “Sorry, I let my passion for geology get away from me there. The formations are beautiful to look at, regardless of how they came about. You can ride your horse from here straight into the park and explore all the trails there.”

  He spied Jessica and waved her over. Claire and Roger followed her.

  “Jessica, these folks want to board their horse with us. Could you take care of the paperwork?”

  “Sure thing.” She leaned over to Claire and stage-whispered, “I’m better at that sort of thing than he is. He always screws it up, then I have to fix it.”

  A frown wiped the grin off Charley’s face. Claire realized both he and the family had heard Jessica’s blithe, but still derogatory, comment. Jessica steered the family toward the trailer, turning to give Charley a thumbs-up before returning her attention to them.

  Determined to restore Charley’s smile, Claire gave her brother an enthusiastic hug. “Congratulations! It looks like your business is going to be a big success.”

  “Thanks, sis. I sure hope so.” Charley pulled back and shook Roger’s hand. He doffed his cowboy hat and ran a hand through his gray-flecked light brown hair, fluffing it back up. He slapped the hat against his thigh and surveyed the event attendees. “Wish more people had come today, though.”

  Claire turned to survey the twenty or so people wandering the grounds. She, too, wished there were more—a lot more. Was this a sign of struggles to come? Would Charley’s investment in the business be lost? And Roger’s and her investment? They had loaned Charley some of the money he needed for the move.

  But their potential financial losses weren’t what concerned her the most. She was afraid of what a business failure would do to Charley’s self-esteem. He had always lived in his big sis’s shadow. Their parents had sent
her to the University of Colorado for four years, to earn her, what Charley called ‘high-falutin’, degree in French and Fine Arts. But when his turn came to go to college, their parents’ funds weren’t as flush. They asked him if he would attend a community college for two years before transferring to Colorado State to finish his degree in Equine Science.

  He had never made that transfer and never finished his degree.

  The last thing Claire was going to do was expose any of her doubts about the business to Charley, though. She put on a brave smile. “They’ll tell their friends about you. Spread the news by word-of-mouth, the best advertising there is.”

  Charley’s brow furrowed over his light blue eyes, the exact same shade as Claire’s. “And my successful big sis would know, wouldn’t she?”

  She knew the quip wasn’t just a compliment, but a comparison—with him coming up on the negative side of the equation. Again. This perceived sibling rivalry in Charley’s mind was their parents’ fault. They always held her up to him as an example, and she had spent years trying to dispel it.

  She gave his arm a playful slap. “Oh, please, my part-time gift basket business is nothing compared to this, Charley. You’re the one in the family with the business smarts.”

  He snorted. “Yeah, smart enough to almost bankrupt myself before leaving Durango with my tail between my legs.”

  Oh, Charley.

  “That was the economy, not you,” Roger said.

  Claire took his hand and squeezed it to show she appreciated his comment.

  At that point, a red-faced gnarled little man in scuffed tennis shoes and khaki pants belted high over his protruding tummy stomped up to Charley. “You the manager of this fiasco?”

  Charley reared back but kept a friendly smile on his face. “I own Gardner’s Stables, yes.” He held out a hand. “I’m Charley Gardner. And you?”

  The man ignored both the question and the proffered hand. “What right do you have to ride your mangy beasts through city-owned open space?”