3 A Basket of Trouble

by Beth Groundwater

  Louise peered at it. “Looks like a little piece of cloth. Must have gotten snagged on the nail.”

  Claire made sure Brittany had a good hold on Gunpowder’s head, then she let go and came closer. “What color is it?”

  “It’s covered with mud, so it’s hard to tell.” The farrier raised an eyebrow at her. “Why the heck does the color matter?”

  “Just humor me.” Claire took a pair of pliers off of Louise’s tool cart. “May I?”

  “Be my guest.”

  Claire gently pulled the scrap of cloth off the hoof pick. She took the pick from Louise. Using the pick and pliers, Claire smoothed the cloth out on a flat surface on the tool cart and scraped some mud off.

  She and Louise peered at it.

  “I see yellow and red,” Louise said.

  “And maybe black,” Claire said, “if this isn’t just a mud-stain. Looks like a checked pattern.”

  “Probably from a shirt,” Louise said.

  Gunpowder shook his head and strained to look back. Brittany struggled to hold his head in place without Claire. She frowned at Claire. “Why is that scrap more important than helping me with Gunpowder?”

  Claire stood and looked at Jorge. “Kyle was wearing a blue-checked shirt when he was killed, right?”

  He nodded.

  “So this isn’t from him.”

  Brittany inhaled sharply.

  “This could be evidence.” Claire looked at the mud clods Louise had flicked onto the stable floor. “And those could be, too. We need to call Detective Wilson.”

  eight:

  an envious rival

  Claire got out of Jessica’s beat-up, but trusty, eight-year-old blue Honda CR-V. She reached into the back seat and grabbed a stack of rubber-banded trifold fliers about her sister-in-law’s hippotherapy nonprofit. She handed the stack to Jessica, who was pulling large brochures out of her side of the back seat. Claire took out another stack of fliers for herself. She stood up too quickly and felt a flush of heat all over her body.

  It was mid-morning on Monday and the bright June sun was already baking the asphalt of the parking lot. But that wasn’t what caused her to flush. She flapped her golf-shirt to create a breeze on her damp chest.

  “Whew, hot flash,” she said to Jessica.

  “Don’t you just hate those?” Jessica asked with a laugh. “Want some water?”

  “No, it’ll be over soon.” Claire shouldered her purse. “We ready?”

  “I guess so.” Jessica pushed her key fob to lock the car, then started toward the door of the Colorado Springs Childhood Services Center. “I really appreciate you helping me pass out these fliers. Don’t you have work to do for your own company?”

  “Just two deliveries today, and I’ll take care of them after we’re done. Roger left on a business trip yesterday, so I kept myself busy last night constructing three gift baskets. That was much better than sitting around moping because I was lonely.”

  Jessica turned toward Claire. “What’s Roger doing?”

  “Another independent financial audit, this time for a manufactured housing company in South Dakota.”

  “Seems like he’s doing more and more of those. Could it turn into full-time work?”

  “He does about one or two a month. He really doesn’t want to do more than that. It’s enough work to keep him stimulated, as he calls it. After losing his high-stress CFO job in February, he decided he’d ease into retirement.”

  “Well, since you’re on your own, do you want to have dinner with Charley and me tonight?”

  “No, don’t worry about me. I’m fine. I’ve got the fixings for a lovely strawberry spinach salad in the fridge. I’ll have that and a glass of white wine, then snuggle up with a good murder mystery. But thanks for asking.”

  Jessica put a hand on the center’s glass-fronted door. “Well, okay, if you’re sure, but the invitation is open for any night he’s gone and you want some company.”

  “I appreciate it.”

  They entered a waiting room furnished with banks of plastic chairs hooked together. In one corner stood a child-sized table with crayons and coloring books. A crate of brightly colored

  plastic toys sat next to it. Two kids rolled cars on the floor next to the crate, making revving noises with wet lips, while a third colored. Their moms chatted a couple of seats away, and a few other people were scattered around the room.

  A young woman sitting behind the reception desk looked up when Jessica and Claire approached.

  “Hello,” Jessica said. “I’m Jessica Gardner. I’d like to speak to the director for a moment, please.”

  “Do you have an appointment?” the receptionist asked. “She’s very busy.”

  “No, but Mrs. Franklin knows I planned to stop by this morning. We talked on the phone a few days ago.”

  The receptionist nodded and looked at the wall clock. “She’ll be done with a client in ten minutes. I’ll let her know you’re here. Would you like to take a seat?”

  “Sure.”

  Claire sat next to a woman who was leaning over to dab some drool off the chin of a girl in her early teens sitting in a wheelchair. She had what looked to be cerebral palsy from her stiff, contracted limbs and the uncontrolled loll of her head.

  Jessica sat next to Claire and leaned forward to smile at the woman. “Hello, my name is Jessica and this is my sister-in-law, Claire.”

  “Hi, I’m Tina, and my daughter’s name is Lily.”

  Claire nodded and smiled at them both, and Jessica said, “Hello, Lily.”

  Tina studied the fliers in Claire’s hands. “What’s hippotherapy?”

  “It’s the use of horses in various kinds of therapy, such as physical or occupational,” Jessica answered. “I’m a licensed occupational therapist, and I run a hippotherapy nonprofit. We’re here to leave some of these fliers at the center.”

  “May I have one?” Tina asked.

  “I guess so. Hopefully Mrs. Franklin won’t mind.” Jessica handed her one. “Your daughter has spastic cerebral palsy, right?”

  “Yes, from birth,” the mother replied with a sigh. “And it just seems to slowly get worse.”

  “Hippotheraphy can help with muscle control and flexibility,” Jessica said. “Such as Lily’s scissored legs here. I’ve had CP clients start a session with their knees pulled up almost to their chest and end it with them hanging loose on either side of the horse.” She smiled at Lily. “Would you like to try riding a horse, Lily?”

  Lily’s mouth opened into a grimaced approximation of a smile, and she jerked her head forward in a nod.

  Tina looked at the brochure in her hand then at Jessica. “But how safe is it? How would Lily stay on a horse?”

  “Oh, I would sit in the saddle right behind Lily and hold her in place, help her guide the horse with her hands. So, it’s perfectly safe. Why don’t you take that brochure with you to her next doctor’s appointment and ask her doctor about it?”

  “Okay, I’ll do that.”

  Claire noticed that Lily’s gaze followed her mother’s actions as Tina stuffed the flier in her purse. Lily was definitely interested and hopefully could convey that to her mother.

  At that point, the receptionist said, “Mrs. Gardner, the director is coming out now to talk to you.”

  “Nice to meet you both,” Claire said to Tina and Lily as she stood with Jessica.

  Jessica gently took Lily’s hand. “I hope to see you soon, Lily.”

  A short round woman bustled out of the door behind the receptionist. Claire would have said the woman looked like Tweedledee or his brother Tweedledum if she were a man. The woman looked around. “Jessica Gardner?”

  “That’s me.” Jessica held out her hand. “Nice to meet you in person, Mrs. Franklin.”

  “Oh, call me Amy, please.” The woman shook her hand.


  After introducing Claire, Jessica said to Amy, “As we discussed on the phone, I’d like to display my brochures in your waiting room. I even have this display case to put them in.” She held up a clear plastic container sized to hold about fifty of the trifold fliers and dropped some fliers into it.

  Amy nodded. “That’s fine with me.”

  “And this is a free invitation to our fundraiser event this coming Saturday. We’ll have drinks and desserts at the Marriott, and a silent auction. My sister-in-law here is even donating one of her spectacular gift baskets to the auction.”

  “Actually two,” Claire said, eliciting a look of pleased surprise from Jessica. “One with a horseback riding theme for the riders who come, and one with a family game night theme for the non-riders.”

  Amy looked up from the invitation. “Sounds like fun. Can I bring my husband?”

  “Sure! And, I’d like to make one more request,” Jessica continued. “If it’s okay with you, I’d like to give all of the service providers who work for you this more detailed packet. It explains the benefits of hippotherapy for different types of childhood disabilities. And I’d like to give you some more of the fliers for them to keep in their offices. That way, if the providers see a particular client that they think would benefit from hippotherapy, they could hand them one of our fliers.”

  Amy pursed her lips. “I’ll have to think about that. While we like to let our clients know about all of the available services in the area, I don’t like to recommend any particular one over another.”

  “There’s only one other hippotherapy nonprofit in the area that I know of,” Jessica said, “and I’m sure the need is greater than the two of us can handle. I would have no problem with you recommending both. The other one is run by Nancy Schwartz.” She turned to Claire. “Brittany’s mother.”

  Claire raised her eyebrows in surprise. She was about to ask why Brittany was volunteering for Jessica rather than her own mother when a woman walked in the glass doors. Of medium height, she was middle-aged with gray-white streaks in her blond hair.

  The woman’s mouth narrowed into a thin line when she saw Jessica. “So you beat me here.”

  After a moment’s hesitation, Jessica said brightly, “Hello, Nancy,” then turned to Amy Franklin. “This is the woman I mentioned, Nancy Schwartz, who runs the other hippotherapy nonprofit in the area.”

  Speak of the devil. Claire wondered at the timing of Nancy’s visit. Had she somehow found out about Jessica’s planned visit and decided to time hers accordingly?

  While Nancy and Amy shook hands and exchanged how-dos, Claire noted the resemblance between Nancy’s features and her daughter Brittany’s, although Nancy carried about twenty-five more pounds on her frame.

  Nancy handed Amy a stack of business cards. “As I promised yesterday, here are some more cards for my nonprofit. I hope Jessica hasn’t been saying unkind things about me,” she said with an unnatural laugh.

  “Of course not,” Amy replied. “In fact, her planned visit is why I called you to ask for more cards. I thought I should have information about both of your nonprofits available to our clients.”

  Nancy eyed the fliers and packets in Jessica’s hands. She pulled one of Jessica’s fliers out of the plastic holder. “I didn’t bring fancy paperwork like she did, but I have fliers, too.”

  The way she said it made Claire doubt that she really did, and that she had planned to just leave the business cards. But Claire was sure Nancy would print up some fliers right away—after studying Jessica’s, that is.

  A look of annoyance passed over Jessica’s face, but she quickly masked it with a brilliant smile that she focused on Amy. “So, problem solved. Your providers could pass out both fliers to clients they think would benefit from hippotherapy.”

  “I guess that would be fair,” Amy said.

  “How many information packets would you like?”

  “Six should do it.”

  When Jessica passed the packets to Amy, Nancy eyed them, like she wished she could take one of those, too. “How sweet of you to promote hippotherapy for both of us, Jessica,” she said with a voice that dripped honey. “Especially since you have so much to deal with right now. I heard about the Mendozas’ lawsuit.” She tsked.

  “What lawsuit?” Amy asked.

  Nancy turned to Amy. “A man was killed by a horse at her stable, and his family is suing them.”

  Amy’s eyes widened. “Oh, my.”

  “That man was not killed by a horse,” Claire said quickly. “He was murdered by a person.”

  “Oh my,” After echoing Amy, Nancy cocked an eyebrow at her, then peered at Jessica. “Aren’t you scared that you may have a killer working for you?”

  “Now wait just a God damn minute,” Jessica said hotly. “There’s no proof that any of our staff killed Kyle. And none of this has anything to do with the quality and safety of the hippotherapy we provide.”

  “Then why did the Mendozas pull their other son out of your program?” Nancy shot back.

  “It was an emotional response,” Jessica said, “as was the lawsuit. I’m sure they’ll drop the suit and be back once they find out what really happened.”

  Claire sure hoped so. But in the meantime, Amy had stiffened and backed away. She looked nervously at the people in her waiting room, who were watching the scene in the lobby with fascination.

  Thrusting the packets at Jessica, Amy said, “I’m going to have to ask you all to leave. Now. You’re upsetting my clients and I refuse to get in the middle of this.”

  Jessica’s shoulders sagged. “But—”

  Amy held up her hands, palms out. “You can both set up an appointment with me in two weeks and make your pitches. I’ll decide what I’m going to do then. And I don’t want either of you putting fliers in our waiting room until after I say you can.” She turned on her heel and beat a hasty retreat.

  “Well, Nancy,” Jessica said bitterly, “you just lost a referral source for both of us.”

  “Not for me,” Nancy replied with a triumphant smile. “I’ll be back in two weeks. We’ll see if you’re still in business by then.” She, too, turned on her heel and sailed out of the glass entrance doors.

  “What is with that woman?” Claire asked, hands on her hips.

  “She’s upset about me moving here and competing with her, though I keep telling her there are plenty of potential clients for the two of us,” Jessica replied with a sigh. “And Brittany volunteering to work with me just made it worse. Some of the bitterness between those two has rubbed off on me, I guess. You know, typical mother-daughter stuff.”

  “Oh, I know.” Claire looked back toward the waiting room and saw Tina slipping Jessica’s flier out of her purse and dropping it into a trash can. She looped her arm in Jessica’s and pulled her toward the door so she wouldn’t see. “Let’s get out of here.”

  This damn murder was tainting not only Charley’s trail-riding business, but also Jessica’s nonprofit. The sooner the killer was discovered and put in jail, the better. Claire decided that a visit to Detective Wilson was called for. But in the meantime …

  Claire opened the center’s front door. “C’mon, sis, I’ll treat you to an iced caramel latte while we figure out your next move.”

  ———

  After completing her basket deliveries, Claire drove to see Detective Wilson. Knowing she would need to soften him up first, she rehearsed her opening while following a policeman into the detectives’ pen at the Gold Hill police station in downtown Colorado Springs. She glanced around to see if she recognized any of the people she had embarrassed herself in front of during her last visit.

  A few detectives sat at some of the dozen desks in the large room but none raised their heads to look at her. They were busy typing on computer keyboards, reading case files or talking on telephones. Claire breathed a sigh of relief, then wrin
kled her nose. Someone had recently burned a bag of microwave popcorn and the acrid odor lingered in the large room.

  When she reached Detective Wilson’s desk, he rose and shook her hand, though he didn’t smile.

  “Thanks for agreeing to meet with me,” Claire said as she sat in his visitor’s chair. “Kyle’s murder is really hurting both Charley’s business and Jessica’s hippotherapy nonprofit. I know you’re working hard on the case and doing everything you can, but I found out a few things that I thought might be helpful.” When Wilson opened his mouth to speak, she held out a hand. “And no, I didn’t endanger myself by snooping around.”

  He shot her a skeptical look then opened his notebook. “Okay, shoot.”

  “First is information about the Schwartzes, Brittany and her mother, Nancy. While volunteering with Brittany, I brought up her relationship with Vince Donahue.” She told Wilson about his jealous reaction to Brittany dating Kyle, ending with, “That sounds like a legitimate motive for murder to me.”

  Wilson gave a shrug. “Could be. Depends on how enamored he was with Miss Schwartz and if he’s got a violent personality. And in addition to motive, we need means and opportunity.”

  “So are you going to interview him to find that out?”

  He scowled at her. “Are you trying to tell me how to do my job?”

  Claire realized she had pushed too hard and backpedaled. “Sorry. I got carried away and shouldn’t have said that. But there’s something else you need to know. Jessica and I had a run-in with Brittany’s mother this morning.”

  She told Wilson about the confrontation. “Do you think Nancy Schwartz could be jealous enough of Jessica’s competing nonprofit, and that her daughter was working for Jessica, that she killed Kyle Mendoza to give Jessica’s work a bad name?”

  “That’s pretty far-fetched.” Wilson tapped his pen on the page he had filled with scribbled notes. “I’d suspect her more if she had something against Mendoza personally, some reason she didn’t want him seeing her daughter, for instance. Anything else?”

  Claire had to trust that he would interview Nancy Schwartz, too. She shifted in her seat. This next bit would be tricky. “On Friday, you asked Charley about the phone numbers from Mexico in Kyle’s cell phone. I found out something about those, but I promised not to tell you who gave me the information.” She told him about Oscar Vargas and his smuggling gang and Kyle arranging for jobs for two illegal immigrants at the Monument stable.