Wilson leaned back in his chair and stared at her. “And you won’t tell me your source. You know, even though you’re telling me this, I’ve got to suspect that since Mendoza worked for your brother, he’s involved somehow.”
“No, I know for a fact that he isn’t,” Claire said firmly. “After you left Friday, I asked Charley if he hired illegals. He was upset I asked. He knows the law and checks the documentation of all his hires. He’d never knowingly hire an illegal immigrant.”
“And I know for a fact that you’re his sister,” Wilson shot back. “And you probably would try to protect him if he’s doing something illegal.”
Claire crossed her arms. “That’s not what’s going on here. Why would I tell you this if Charley was involved in any way? In fact, I don’t want Charley to know I’m telling you this.”
Wilson peered at her then exhaled. “Doesn’t matter anyway. I’ll have to notify ICE about this Oscar Vargas. They’ll start an investigation, and I’m sure they’ll include Gardner’s Stables, since Kyle Mendoza worked there. Better tell Charley to get his paperwork in order.”
“There’s no need to.” Claire uncrossed her arms and leaned forward. “It’s already in order.” But contrary to her show of bravado, she still planned to warn Charley.
“These Mexican smugglers can be ruthless,” Wilson added. “Especially if their own necks are in danger. Of all the things you’ve told me today, this is the most useful. If Mendoza crossed Vargas in some way, then I can see Vargas killing him or arranging for him to be killed, then covering it up by making it look like an accident.”
“What about the hammer that came out of the manure dumpster? Did you get any fingerprints off of it?”
Wilson shook his head. “Too bad, too. I’d love to be able to match one to Vargas or someone in his gang. Maybe ICE has something on him or can come up with something, so we can bring him in for questioning.”
“That scrap of cloth the farrier found on Gunpowder’s hoof might belong to someone in Vargas’s gang,” Claire said hopefully, “It could point to Kyle’s killer, especially if there’s any DNA on it.”
“It’s still in the queue for testing.”
“Did you match it to anyone’s clothing at the stable?”
“Nope, or at least not anything that’s in anyone’s closet. Of course, it could have nothing to do with Mendoza’s murder. It could have been picked up off the ground some other time.”
“Given Jorge’s diligence in cleaning the horses’ hooves, I kind of doubt that.”
The two of them settled into an uneasy silence until Claire asked, “Who do you think did it?”
Wilson gave her an enigmatic smile while closing his notebook. “Why would I tell you?”
“Because I’m telling you things!” Claire said indignantly. “I’m trying to be helpful.”
“And I appreciate that,” he said. “But this is a police investigation, and we don’t share everything with civilians. I will tell you that I try to keep an open mind until the facts and evidence point me in some definite direction.”
“It doesn’t sound like you’re very close to arresting someone, and every day this case drags on is another nail in the coffin for Charley’s business.” Claire’s mind raced. What else could she find out that would help Wilson solve the case?
“I know you,” he said forcefully, breaking her out of her reverie. “You’re already making plans to do more snooping on your own. Well, don’t. Especially around Oscar Vargas. I don’t want another murder case on my hands.”
“I understand.” Claire rose from her chair and said goodbye.
As she walked to her car, she made a decision. She would have to leave finding out about Vargas’s immigrant smuggling operation to ICE. But with Roger out of town, nothing was preventing her from spending as much time as possible at Charley’s stable.
nine:
secrets
“Screw this! Who tied this anyway?” Gil’s shout came from a stall somewhere in the middle of the barn right after Claire had walked inside.
At the sound of the angry words, Claire paused in her search for the special saddle Jorge had fashioned for Jessica’s next hippotherapy client. Jessica had told her it was hanging in the back tack room, but Claire didn’t want to get into the middle of one of Gil’s tirades.
He stepped out of the stall, reddened eyes blazing and hands on his hips. Claire instinctively ducked behind the nearest stall wall, though she could still peek above it.
“Pedro!” Gil hollered.
The young Mexican came out of a stall in the rear of the barn.
When Gil saw him, he waved Pedro over. “Did you cinch this saddle on Rifle this morning?”
Pedro looked in the stall. “No. Hank do it.”
Claire had seen Hank and Charley leave moments before on the afternoon trail ride. Both the small number of clients, with only six riders on the trip, and the deep furrows in Charley’s forehead had worried her.
“That dickhead,” Gil shouted. “How’s he expect anyone to undo a knot this tight?”
“I do it.” Pedro moved inside the stall and began working on the black horse’s saddle.
Gil looked around, then stepped out of Pedro’s line of sight. He took a hasty swig from a flask he pulled out of his hip pocket. It took two tries for him to return the flask to his pocket. Claire suspected that his booze-impaired fumble fingers, instead of the tightness of the knot, was the cause of Gil’s problem with the saddle cinch.
Sure enough, Pedro emerged from the stall soon after Gil had wiped his lips with his sleeve. Pedro hefted the saddle in his arms as if showing it off. “Knot no problemo por me,” he said with a grin.
“No problemo, no problemo,” Gil mimicked. “Speak English, you wetback. And don’t be taking that cocky attitude with me. I know where you came from. With one word from me, ICE will toss your ass on a bus right back there.” He shoved Pedro hard on the shoulder.
The push sent Pedro stumbling backward down the aisle until he tripped. He landed on his butt in a pile of manure- and urine-soaked straw that one of them must have just mucked out of a stall.
Gil guffawed. “Right where you belong.”
Pedro’s face reddened and his shoulders tensed. The young man had obviously reached his limit, and he wasn’t going to take any more abuse without a fight. He flung the saddle aside, scrabbled to his feet, and charged at Gil with his head lowered like a raging bull.
His head hit Gil’s stomach, expelling Gil’s air with a loud “Oof.”
The two of them went sprawling. Gil landed flat on his back with Pedro on top.
Pedro started swinging furious body blows at Gil’s midsection.
Gil rolled back and forth. He elbowed Pedro in the face then slammed a knee into his groin.
Pedro fell off Gil, moaning and holding his crotch.
Gil back-crabbed away, then stood. He stuffed his hand into his front pants pocket. He drew out a long buck knife and flipped it open.
Pedro’s eyes popped wide.
Claire gasped.
Focused on his prey, Gil didn’t seem to hear Claire. An evil grin split his sour face. He stepped toward Pedro. “I’m gonna cut you, you roach.”
“Stop!” Pedro held out a palm. “I no fight you no more.”
Gil straightened. He jiggled the knife in his hand. “You need to show some respect for your betters, boy.”
Just as Claire was debating whether showing herself would stop the fight or escalate it, Jorge walked in the barn. Leading a sandy-colored mare by the bridle, he passed Claire without seeing her. He stopped and took in the tableau before him. “What the hell is going on here?”
Gil folded his knife and slipped it back into his pants pocket. “Just teaching this wetback some manners.”
Greatly relieved, Claire thanked God that Gil still had some respect
for Charley’s second in command.
“Back off,” Jorge said. “He’s not a wetback.”
“The hell he ain’t,” Gil said. “I know about Vargas’s operation, and Kyle’s hand in it. I have half a mind to go to ICE and shut the whole fucking thing down. Send Pedro and all his friends packing across the border.”
Pedro struggled to his feet. He picked up the saddle he had dropped. “I clean this and unsaddle Rifle.” He backed away a few steps and hesitated, as if waiting to see if Gil was mollified.
His groveling broke Claire’s heart.
“God damn right you will,” Gil pointed a shaky finger at Pedro then harrumphed at Jorge. “I need a smoke.” He stumbled past Jorge and out of the barn.
Jorge stepped toward Pedro. “Unsaddling Rifle was Gil’s chore. You don’t need to do it for him.”
“Sí, I do,” Pedro said. “I need this job. Mi mamá y hermanas cannot live without el dinero I send them.”
“I should tell Charley about Gil,” Jorge said. “He doesn’t do half the work he’s supposed to around here because he’s too drunk. Charley should fire him.”
“No! Then Gil will tell him what he knows and Charley will fire me.”
Jorge exhaled and looked down, shaking his head. “This can’t continue.”
Claire agreed.
When Jorge and Pedro moved together toward the back of the barn, she took the opportunity to slip out the door, checking for Gil first. He wasn’t in sight. She stood outside the barn for a few moments, sucking in deep breaths to calm herself, then walked back in.
“Jorge,” she yelled in a cheerful tone. “Jessica sent me for that special saddle you made—the one with a large round grip for two hands on the front instead of a saddle horn. Do you know where it is?”
———
Throughout the afternoon hippotherapy session, Claire debated whether or not she should tell Charley about the confrontation she had witnessed. She knew he would be touchy about her interfering in the running of his business. But Charley really needed to know that Gil had a drinking problem. And if he already knew that, he needed to know that the drinking problem was causing other problems. Regardless of Gil’s capability with horses, he was dangerous.
On the other hand, she knew that if Charley found out Pedro was illegal, he would have no choice but to fire him. And as Pedro said, he was supporting his mother and sisters with his earnings. Claire didn’t want to be responsible for taking food money away from a whole family, no matter where they lived.
The conundrum kept her mind so occupied that she almost let one little girl slide out of the saddle toward the end of the day. A quick tug on the girl’s harness by Brittany saved the girl from taking a spill.
Brittany peered at Claire as they put Blossom, who was almost as gentle as Daisy, back in her stall. “You okay, Claire? You seem spaced out.”
“Sorry, Brittany, if I’ve been inattentive. I am worried about something, but it doesn’t concern you.”
Brittany exhaled. “That’s good. I was afraid you had some kind of issue with me.”
Claire waved her horse brush in the air. “Oh, it’s nothing like that. We make a great team, don’t you think?”
Brittany smiled and nodded as she brushed down Blossom’s other side. “Yeah, sure. And can I ask you a favor? Jessica told me you live in Coyote Hills, and our house is in Fox Glen, pretty close to there. Do you mind giving me a ride home? My mom’s got the car, and she’s tied up in a meeting.”
“I don’t mind.” Claire gave Blossom a pat. “But I need to talk to Charley first. If you finish up Blossom here while I do, then you won’t have to wait for me.”
Brittany gave her a thumbs-up. “It’s a deal.”
Claire walked over to the trailer and stuck her head in the back office, where Charley was studying some paperwork. “Can we talk?”
He looked up. “You checking up on me? Your friend Dave contacted the Director of Parks and Rec and told them we expect them to abide by the contract.”
“No, I’m not checking up on you,” Claire said, wondering at Charley’s touchiness. “But I’m glad Dave could help.”
“Yeah, he’s willing to help, to the tune of a few hundred dollars so far. So far!” Charley tossed the papers on his cluttered desk. “Unfortunately, he told me there are a couple of clauses in the contract that give the city wiggle room if they want to default. And if it comes to that, I’ll be paying him a lot more to straighten out the mess.”
“At least now they know you have legal representation, so they’ll move more cautiously.” Claire glanced at a stack of papers on the other chair in the office. The top one had a big red notice, Past Due, on the top. “But I needed to talk to you about something else. Mind if I sit?”
As she moved toward the chair, Charley lunged forward. He grabbed the papers off the chair and slid them under a Western Horseman magazine on his desk. He waved a hand toward the empty chair.
“Is it about Mom?” Charley asked. “I stopped in to see her yesterday. You’re right. The fog is definitely closing in. She forgot again that I’d moved here from Durango. And when I mentioned Jessica, she got this blank look on her face like she’d never heard the name before.”
Claire sat and scooted the chair closer to Charley. “It might be time to move Mom, though I know she won’t like it. Any kind of change really upsets her now. But no, that’s not why I’m here.”
She reached out and closed the door behind her, because Jessica was talking in the reception room to a couple who had just come off the last trail ride of the day. “I overheard a conversation, actually a fight, between two of your employees today, and I thought you should know about it.”
Charley shifted in his chair and opened his mouth to speak.
She held up a hand. “Not that I want to interfere with your business or anything. I’ll leave it up to you to decide what to do with what I tell you.”
She described the fight between Gil and Pedro. She included Gil’s drinking, Jorge’s statement about Gil not doing his work, and hiss name-calling of Pedro. But she left out his statement about Vargas’s and Kyle’s smuggling operation.
She felt guilty holding that back, but she wanted to protect Pedro and his family. The potential harm to Charley was just a fine, but that to Pedro and his family was destitution. Besides, she figured that if ICE asked to see Charley’s records, he would tell her. Then she could tell Charley about Pedro. Hopefully it would never come to that, but if it did, Charley could get rid of Pedro before ICE did their inspection. Since Pedro would no longer be a current employee, Charley wouldn’t have to pay the fine.
But what if Gil spills the beans when he’s fired? Or what if he thinks Pedro told on him and goes after Pedro?
“I don’t want Gil blaming any of his co-workers for ratting on him,” Claire said. “So be sure to tell him that it was me who told you about his drinking.”
Charley stood and looked out the small office window at the barn, drumming his fingers on his thigh as he thought.
Finally he turned to Claire. “Thanks for telling me. I knew Gil drank, but I thought he had it under control. And I’d sensed some tension between Gil and almost everyone else except Hank, but I didn’t know the cause. I guess I will have to fire him.”
He plopped back down in his chair. “We’re short-handed as it is without Kyle, which is why I’m so far behind on this blasted paperwork. I’ve had to go out on more trail rides myself. Frankly, I enjoy them a lot more than pushing a pen around.” He gave Claire a wry smile.
She returned the smile. “You’re a natural horseman, Charley. I saw how much you were enjoying working with Jorge on Gunpowder. Have you advertised for Kyle’s position?” Claire wondered if he was trying to make do with fewer employees to save on expenses.
Charley nodded. “But no takers yet. Thank God for Hank. He stepped right into Kyle’s lead
trail guide position and has the tourists eating out of his hands, especially the women. But I’ll still have two wrangler positions to fill.”
“You could wait to fire Gil.”
“Nope, not after what you told me. I don’t want him on the property, especially around the customers.”
Claire stood. “I’m sorry to be adding to your troubles.”
Jessica opened the door while Claire was still speaking. “What troubles?”
“I’m going to have to fire Gil,” Charley answered. “Claire saw him drinking and picking a fight with one of the other wranglers.”
Jessica looked from Charley to Claire and back again. “How come she’s so much more perceptive than you?”
Oh, God!
Charley’s neck reddened. “I’ve been a little busy lately, if you haven’t noticed.” When Jessica opened her mouth again, he held up a hand. “I’ll take care of it. Pronto.”
He ushered Claire out of his office and onto the porch, where Brittany stood waiting for her.
Claire put a hand on his arm. “Good luck, Charley.”
He nodded and pushed his cowboy hat down on his head. With a grim face, he strode off for the barn.
Brittany gave Claire a quizzical look.
“Don’t ask,” Claire said. “You know, I’ve got a hankering for a nice thick chocolate shake. There’s a Diary Queen on the way to your house, if I’m not mistaken. Want to join me?”
“Sure, but make mine vanilla.”
The two of them got in Claire’s car. While Claire drove to the DQ, she and Brittany chatted about their clients that day. Claire figured she would try to find out more about Brittany’s strained relationship with her mother.
“Does your mother often drive you to and from the stable?”
“We have two cars,” Brittany said. “A nice one for Mom, but the other one’s a clunker and I have to share it with my brother. So, yeah, she has to drop me off or pick me up a lot.”
3 A Basket of Trouble Page 11