3 A Basket of Trouble

by Beth Groundwater

  Being the second to last rider in their group, Claire heard him. She looked at Brittany, who from her furrowed brow must have heard him, too. Claire wondered how many of these confrontations with Peak View Stables Charley could manage before the relationship between the two businesses got really ugly—or was it already that bad?

  ———

  Three hours later, Claire sat with Roger, Ellen, Dave, Jessica, and Charley on the shaded porch of the Gardner’s Stables trailer. They had just finished eating a delicious surprise picnic lunch that Ellen provided. After their return from the trail ride, she had told Dave to fetch a large cooler out of the trunk of their car and invited Jessica and Charley to join them. She laid out a gourmet repast of oozing brie cheese, hard salami slices, baguettes, marinated olives and peppers, and large black grapes.

  Dave had opened a magnum bottle of crisp white Riesling and poured it into clear plastic glasses. Sated and glowing from the wine and enjoying the company of friends and family, Claire felt at peace, for the moment. Charley and Jessica had skipped the wine, since they both had to return to work, but they had eaten heartily, too, and seemed equally relaxed.

  Good, Claire thought, they need a break from their worries.

  Charley leaned back, groaned and patted his stomach. “Thank you, Ellen. That was delicious.”

  His lazy smile disappeared, however, when a dark blue pickup truck drove into the parking lot. The logo of Peak View Stables was emblazoned on its side. When two men got out, slammed their doors, and marched up the walk, Charley rose to his feet.

  “This doesn’t look good,” he said with a frown.

  Worry furrowing her brow, Jessica stood, too.

  As the two men approached, Claire realized one was Vince, the wrangler who had tangled with Hank on the trail. The other man looked much older, probably in his sixties, with receding gray hair, bowed legs, and leathery skin from a life lived outdoors.

  “I’ve got a bone to pick with you, Charley,” the older man said. “Maybe we should talk in private, away from your customers.”

  “These are family and friends, Tom,” Charley said. He introduced them all and introduced the older man as Tom Lindall, General Manager of Peak View Stables. Tom introduced Vince as Vince Donahue.

  While the introductions were being made, Ellen cleared up the picnic leavings. She closed the cooler and signaled Dave to pick it up.

  “We’ve got to get going,” she said. “I have an afternoon appointment.” The two of them said their goodbyes and left.

  Roger raised an eyebrow at Claire, an implicit question whether they should leave, too, but she shook her head. The two of them were witnesses to what had occurred on the trail. Their viewpoints might help, if that’s why the men from Peak View Stables were there.

  Charley came down off the porch to stand in front of Tom and Vince. “What can I do for you?”

  Tom Lindall waved a hand at Vince. “Vince here tells me your group held them up on the trail for almost twenty minutes this morning. That caused him to return late with his riders and upset our whole day’s routine. You know damn well we have so many groups going out that we have to time them like clockwork. I had to scramble to get the afternoon rides out on schedule. That kind of thing can’t continue.”

  Charley looked at Claire and Roger. “That right?”

  “I don’t think it was twenty minutes,” Roger said. “It was more like ten.”

  Hands stuffed in his pockets, Vince looked down and dug the toe of his boot in the dirt.

  “And it wasn’t Hank’s fault,” Claire said. “The honeymoon couple kept asking for more photos. Hank couldn’t very well refuse without pissing them off.”

  “So he pissed off a whole column of my customers instead!” Tom’s face grew red.

  Claire put her hands on her hips. “But—”

  “I’ll handle this.” Charley frowned at Claire then turned toward Lindall. “I’m sorry, Tom. It won’t happen again. I’ll talk to my wranglers, give them some advice on how to limit the photos.”

  “That’s not enough,” Tom replied. “We can’t have these confrontations on the trail at all. What if some of your horses and some of mine got into an altercation, bucking off tourists and injuring them in the process?”

  Charley looked confused. “The two columns were kept separate, weren’t they?”

  Claire and Roger nodded, and Vince, after seeing them, reluctantly joined in.

  When Claire opened her mouth to say more, Roger put a hand on her arm and shook his head. She realized he was right. This was Charley’s fight, and he didn’t need his big sister butting in.

  “This time they were,” Tom said. “Who’s to say it won’t happen next time, while the two groups are milling around at the same spot taking photos?” He slapped his hand against his thigh. “This just isn’t working. The city should never have allowed another commercial trail-riding business in the park. I’m going to call my good buddy Councilman Harvey and follow up with a written complaint.”

  Jessica gasped. Her wide-eyed gaze darted between Tom and Charley.

  Charley put out his hands in a ‘calm down’ motion. “Now wait just a minute. There’s no need to go that far. I’m sure we can work out a solution.”

  Tom pursed his lips. “You willing to stay off Palmer Trail?”

  “You know that won’t work for me,” Charley replied. “My customers have just as much right to see all of the park formations as yours. Why don’t we compare our ride schedules and routes? I’m sure we can make modifications in timing that will prevent confrontations and keep everyone safe.”

  “I’m not making any modifications.” Tom crossed his arms and pushed out his chin. “We’ve been following the same routine for nigh on twenty years now. It runs like a well-oiled machine. When there aren’t hold-ups like today, that is.”

  “Well, then, I’ll see if I can make some changes,” Charley said evenly. “I looked at your schedule and routes when I first planned mine, but I can make some tweaks, I’m sure. Give me a chance to make this right.”

  Tom uncrossed his arms and exhaled. “I guess I can give it one more go. But if this happens again, I’m going to the city.”

  Charley turned toward the trailer and held out a hand toward the steps. “Why don’t we go inside the trailer? I’ve got a map with my routes on it on the wall, and a ride schedule there. We can have a drink while we talk it over. Jessica’s got a pot of coffee on, and we’ve got sodas in the fridge.”

  Tom gave a begrudging harrumph and a nod. He turned to Vince. “Can you amuse yourself for a few minutes?”

  Vince looked at Charley and Jessica. “Is Brittany still here?”

  “She’s up at the barn getting some horses ready for this afternoon’s hippotherapy,” Jessica said.

  Vince grinned. “I’ll give her a hand.” He headed up for the barn while Charley and Tom went in the trailer.

  “I should go inside,” Jessica said. “I don’t know how Charley managed to defuse that situation, and I’d better make sure they all stay on friendly terms.”

  Claire thought Charley had done a damn good job of keeping his cool and preventing a blow-up, but before she could say so to Jessica, Roger said, “What happens if two trail rides meet up again in the park?”

  Jessica nibbled her lower lip. “I don’t know. Hopefully Charley can find a way to prevent that from occurring.”

  “I’m sure he’ll figure something out,” Claire said.

  But she didn’t really feel that hopeful. Horses and tourists didn’t follow precise schedules, and there were bound to be delays on trail rides. How could Charley keep Tom Lindall from complaining to the city, and maybe getting Charley’s agreement voided?

  five:

  a bad feeling

  The next morning, Claire fingered the green ‘Gardner’s Hippotherapy’ T-shirt that lay in her lap aft
er trying it on. “It’s not only a great fit,” she said to Jessica, “I love the color, too.”

  She was sitting on the reception sofa in the trailer at Gardner’s Stables and Jessica was perched on the arm of the matching leather loveseat. Behind the reception desk across from Claire, a short hallway led to a back office with two desks. The hall also led to a storage room, a bathroom, and a small kitchenette where Jessica had made the cinnamon-laced Mexican coffee they were sipping.

  “I’m glad. I thought green was good for a horse-based charity.” Jessica put down her coffee cup and arranged her face in a bright smile. “So, what’s our shopping itinerary?”

  Jessica hadn’t scheduled any hippotherapy clients that day, so Claire could finally show Jessica her favorite Colorado Springs clothing stores and boutiques for a “Ladies Day Out.” Neither one of them felt particularly cheerful. But Claire thought some shopping therapy might give Jessica some much-needed relief from her troubles.

  “After I deliver a couple of my ‘Welcome to Colorado Springs’ baskets to a realtor downtown,” Claire said, “we’ll start at Silent Woman. It’s Ellen’s favorite home decor boutique and a really cute shop. Then we’ll look at the ritzy clothes at Drama. We probably won’t be able to afford much, but we’ll have fun window-shopping.”

  Jessica clapped her hands together, trying oh so hard to look excited. “I’ll be exhausted after all that!”

  Claire forced a smile, too. “We’ll rest and eat lunch at Rico’s Café in the Poor Richard’s complex, with its fun bookstore and children’s store. That’ll fortify us for an afternoon at The Promenade Shops at the Briargate.”

  “What fun. We’ve got to remember to pick up the invitations to my fundraiser event from the engravers, too.” Jessica stood and took their coffee cups to the sink. “Planning the fundraiser and getting the stable up and running was a lot harder than I thought it would be. Double-checking everything Charley did took a lot of time. I’ve needed this break for ages, even before Kyle’s death.”

  “Why do you have to double-check everything Charley does?”

  Jessica waved a hand. “You know men. They don’t have the eye for detail we women do. Especially Charley.”

  “Charley was pretty thorough about homework and stuff when we were kids.”

  When Jessica just shrugged, Claire worried her lip. Even if Charley realized where Jessica’s constant little digs came from, wouldn’t they eventually chip away at his self-confidence? Claire decided to monitor his reactions to Jessica’s comments more closely.

  Claire stood. “I hope Charley will be able to schedule a breather soon. Working long hours seven days a week with no rest is taking a toll on him, too. Well, I guess we’d better get a move on.”

  They shouldered their purses and stepped outside. Two police cars sat in the parking lot, a marked cruiser and Detective Frank Wilson’s gray unmarked Charger. Wilson, another man in a suit, and two officers in uniform were getting out of the vehicles.

  “Uh oh,” Jessica said. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”

  “So do I.” Claire put a hand on Jessica’s shoulder. “But let’s see what Detective Wilson has to say first.”

  He approached them. “Hello, ladies. I’m afraid I have some bad news for you. The coroner ruled that Kyle Mendoza was murdered.”

  Jessica sucked in a breath. “Murdered!”

  “Oh, God. How?” Claire asked.

  “The autopsy showed that his head wound wasn’t caused by the horse’s hooves. It was blunt force trauma from a metal tool, one that had a much smaller diameter than a hoof, something like a hammer or crowbar.” He looked at Jessica. “You got something like that on the premises?”

  “We have both,” Jessica replied. “And lots of other tools that could fit that description, like hay hooks, pitchforks, heavy-duty pliers and screwdrivers, you name it.”

  Claire furrowed her brow as she tried to absorb this new information. “So Kyle was dead before Gunpowder stomped on him?”

  “Not quite,” Wilson said. “The head wound was delivered first, sometime between eight and ten PM, before the other injuries. It didn’t kill him right away, but it might have eventually without treatment.”

  Jessica’s expression showed she was as stunned as Claire. “Who would do that? And why?”

  Detective Wilson paused, and Claire could tell he was holding something back. “That’s what I aim to find out.”

  He stepped onto the porch and handed a document to Jessica. “This is a search warrant for the entire premises. These men and I are going to look for anything that might be the murder weapon.” He introduced his fellow detective and the two patrolmen.

  “What can we do to help?” Jessica asked after the hand-shaking was over.

  “Nothing,” Wilson replied. “But after we finish our search, we’ll need to re-interview everyone. What activities did you have planned here today?”

  Jessica glanced at Claire. “Well, Claire and I were going to go shopping, but that can wait. There’s no way I’m going to leave here until I know if you found something. Hank and Gil are already out on a two-hour trail ride with customers and won’t be back for an hour and a half. And we’ve got another ride scheduled for this afternoon.”

  Wilson pursed his lips. “Hopefully we won’t get in the way of your afternoon ride. But when the morning ride returns, I’ll need to meet it.”

  Jessica’s eyes went wide. “You’re not going to tell our customers what’s going on, are you?”

  “No, I’ll just make sure they all leave the area and that we talk to Hank and Gil before they leave the premises.”

  “The horses will need to be cared for first.”

  Wilson sighed. “I understand. Who else is on the property now?”

  “Charley, Jorge, Pedro, and Brittany.”

  “I don’t want them observing our search. Are they busy now? Can they take a break and come in here?”

  “I guess so,” Jessica said. “The horses have all been fed and watered. They’re probably just doing chores and repairs that can wait.”

  “Okay, here’s the plan. We’ll bring everyone in here, search until the trail ride returns, then stop and do the interviews after the horses have been cared for. If we’re lucky, we’ll find something before the ride returns. Which is when?”

  “About eleven-thirty,” Jessica answered.

  Wilson signaled to the same patrolman who had watched over them Monday. “Phelps, you stay with the women. One of us will bring the others here, then you’ll observe them all while the rest of us search.”

  He turned to Jessica. “One more thing. When’s your trash pickup day?”

  “Tomorrow. The same company picks up our manure and soiled stable bedding, too. We store it in a dumpster behind the barn.”

  The other detective glanced at his loafers as if regretting his choice of footwear. Phelps smirked.

  “Good,” Wilson said. “What else gets removed from the property?”

  Jessica thought for a moment. “The port-a-potties are emptied every two weeks, and the next time is next Wednesday.”

  As Jessica talked, Claire could see Officer Phelps grinning at his uniformed cohort, who was rolling his eyes. He obviously was not looking forward to the messier aspects of the search operation.

  Jessica must have caught the look, too. “You know, Pedro could help you go through the manure pile, or Gil or Hank when they get back. They handle that stuff every day.”

  Wilson glanced back at his men, and Phelps’s buddy held up a thumb. “Okay, we may use one of them when it comes to that. And for fishing in the port-a-potties. Let’s get to it.”

  As he and the other detective and patrolman walked to the barn, Jessica let out a sigh. “Sorry about this, Claire.” She took her purse off her shoulder.

  Claire followed suit. “As you said, we can shop anytime. I�
�ll make another pot of coffee. When everyone gets here, they’ll probably want some.” She and Officer Phelps followed Jessica inside the trailer.

  Charley, Jorge, Pedro, and Brittany soon tromped up the porch steps, followed by the other detective, who opened the door and gave Phelps a quick nod before leaving. After scraping off their boots and slapping the stable dust off their jeans, Charley and the others came inside the trailer, doffing their cowboy hats as they passed the threshold.

  While Claire got everyone a drink of some kind, Charley started pacing. “I can’t believe someone killed Kyle!”

  Brittany nodded and put a hand to her mouth, her eyes reddening.

  “And I’ve got to pay everyone to sit around here instead of working.” Charley threw up his hands in frustration and exhaled deeply. “This is getting damned expensive.”

  “I know,” Claire said. “But what else can you do? The police have to do their work.”

  Charley slapped his hat against his thigh. “And cause me a basket of trouble in the process.”

  “The real culprit is whoever killed Kyle,” Claire said. “I wonder who did it.”

  Everyone in the room looked at each other and shrugged or shook their heads.

  Claire watched their faces carefully. “Any of you know if Kyle had any enemies? If he had any recent arguments with anyone?”

  More shrugging and shaking of heads, except Pedro hesitated and wouldn’t meet Claire’s gaze.

  She stepped toward him. “Pedro?”

  “Nada,” he said quickly, and brought a Coke can to his lips, spilling a few drops on his shirt in his haste. He glanced at Jorge.

  Claire turned to the older man. “Jorge?”

  Jorge’s face was passive, inscrutable. “Kyle was a kind man with many amigos.”

  That really didn’t answer her question. She stared at both men for a while longer but saw that she wasn’t going to get anything out of them, so she turned to Brittany. “You dated him a few times. Did he mention anyone he was having a problem with?”