3 A Basket of Trouble

by Beth Groundwater

  Claire arched a brow at Brittany and glanced at Ana with curiosity, but didn’t say anything. She figured Jessica should be the first one to talk to Ana.

  While Jessica gave Robin’s father a report on her session, Robin returned to the corral and stood next to Petey, petting Daisy’s neck. The two young people stole glances at each other, and Robin smiled shyly.

  Ana stepped forward after Jessica finished her report, her hands clenched in front of her. Claire joined them, too. Acting as if nothing was wrong, Jessica introduced them both to Robin’s father. During the pleasantries, Claire noted how nervous Ana appeared. Rightly so, given how mad she had been the last time they had seen her.

  Jessica smiled over at the two young people vying for petting space on Daisy’s neck and forehead. “Petey and Robin, since you both like Daisy so much, you should say hi to each other,” she said loudly so they could hear her. “You have something in common.”

  Petey ducked his head and peeked up through his lashes at Robin. “Hi,” he said shyly.

  “Hi,” Robin said back.

  When they both seemed to be at a loss for what to say next, Brittany stepped in with two mini carrots. “Why don’t you both give Daisy a treat? Robin, do you want to go first?”

  After watching Brittany make another attempt to get Robin and Petey interacting with each other, Robin’s father said, “I like seeing Robin make friends with someone like herself. Mind if I go over there and help them along?” He looked at Ana.

  “That would be very nice,” Ana said with a smile. “Thank you.”

  After he left, she took a deep breath and turned to Jessica. “I heard about Gil Kaplan’s death when a reporter from the Gazette called me for a statement. Mr. Bradshaw made it sound like Gil committed suicide because he felt guilty about killing Kyle. Is that true?”

  “That’s what Detective Wilson thinks happened,” Jessica said. “Gil left a suicide note that said he hit Kyle in the head while they were arguing.”

  Ana looked pained. “What were they arguing about?”

  “Kyle was going to tell Charley about Gil’s drinking and slacking off work,” Jessica explained. “Charley already knew Gil drank sometimes, but he thought Gil had it under control. And as far as we knew, Gil never fought with anyone at work until the day before yesterday when Claire saw him get into a scuffle with Pedro. Charley fired Gil that afternoon, which may have contributed to his suicide. Charley’s really upset about it.”

  Claire jumped to Charley’s defense. “Gil didn’t say that in his note, and Detective Wilson said he was pressuring Gil since he was the last one to be with Kyle. Wilson thought that might have been what drove Gil over the edge.”

  “Regardless,” Jessica looked from Claire to Ana, “the police think Gil killed Kyle, not Gunpowder. Gunpowder was just a clumsy ruse used by Gil to try to cover up what he’d done.”

  Ana exhaled and gave a quick nod. She swallowed and unclasped her hands. “Emilio and I owe you and Charley a huge apology. I’m so sorry we jumped to conclusions and blamed the horse—and you—for Kyle’s death. Can you forgive us?”

  “Of course.” Jessica gave Ana a hug then drew back with her arms still around the woman. “You were grieving, and it looked like Gunpowder did it at first.”

  Ana wiped a tear from her cheek. “We were angry, so angry that our son was taken from us at such a young age. You and Charley were the closest targets.”

  “I know,” Jessica said softly, dropping her hands and stepping back.

  “But we should’ve known better. We know you both, how safe you are with the children,” Ana turned and swept a hand toward Petey and Robin. “We should’ve known you wouldn’t keep a dangerous horse at the stable. I’ll call our lawyer and tell him we want to withdraw the lawsuit.”

  Claire clapped her hands together and brought them to her chin. Hallelujah!

  “Thank you, Ana.” Jessica hugged the woman again. “Thank you so much. Charley will be so relieved. The lawsuit has hung over him like a thundercloud.”

  Ana’s face crumpled in distress. “Again, I am so sorry for the trouble we caused you both. I apologize for my hurtful words last week.”

  “Apology accepted, and we certainly understand,” Jessica replied.

  Claire had a thought. “You’ve already done so much, and I hate to ask another favor, but will you also have your lawyer contact the city? Tell them you no longer want Charley’s contract cancelled?”

  “Oh, yes.” Ana turned to Jessica. “And may Petey start his sessions again? He has missed Daisy almost as much as Kyle.” She swallowed again and took a moment to compose herself. “And now we have no one to take care of Petey when Emilio and I are gone. We had counted on Kyle to do that since our daughter has cut us out of her life.”

  Jessica’s eyes widened in surprise. “I didn’t realize you had a daughter, too.”

  Ana nodded. “Sophie was born in between Kyle and Petey. She was only two when Petey came into our lives and took up so much of my time. She got lost in the shuffle, probably felt unloved. She got into trouble as a teenager.” Ana sighed. “I blame myself for not seeing that she resented Petey and all the attention he was getting. She moved to California and now has no contact with us.”

  “None at all?” Claire asked.

  “Kyle tried to call her a few times, talk her into returning to the family. But the last time, she yelled at him, said that between Petey being the baby and him being the star of the family, no one paid any attention to her. So why should she pay any attention to us now?”

  “Oh dear.” Claire could see some parallels between Sophie’s words and Charley’s about Claire getting all the attention from their parents.

  “Does Sophie know about Kyle’s death?” Jessica asked.

  “I left a message on her answering machine. But she hasn’t called back.”

  Jessica put a hand on Ana’s shoulder. “Do you think she’ll come to Kyle’s memorial service?”

  Ana shrugged. “I told her when it will be in the message, but I don’t know if she’ll come.”

  “Maybe this will be the push she needs to reunite with her family,” Claire said hopefully.

  “We can hope, but I doubt it.” Ana looked at Petey with sad eyes. “We can’t bring his big brother or sister back to Petey, but I hope we can bring Daisy back into his life.”

  “Of course we can,” Jessica said. “And maybe even right now. Claire, can you stay for another session?”

  “I’d love to,” Claire replied. And then she was going to have a talk with her brother.

  ———

  After Petey’s session, Claire and Brittany took Daisy back to the barn. While they were caring for the horse, Claire overheard Charley and Jorge talking in the treatment area. They had Gunpowder tied up in there and were standing off to the side and studying the horse. Gunpowder kept shuffling his feet and swinging his head, as if he couldn’t keep still.

  “He was doing so well,” Charley said. “What do you think caused this backslide?”

  “Don’t know,” Jorge said. “I noticed he was getting more sensitive to anyone touching his rear end a couple of days ago.”

  “Look at his ears, how they’re laid back. And his swishing tail. He’s angry about something.”

  “Or something is bothering him, like maybe he’s in pain.” Jorge paused then snapped his fingers. “Maybe this has nothing to do with Kyle. Maybe he has a sore somewhere we can’t see—like under his tail.”

  “You could be right. But there’s no way he’ll let either of us examine him there without being tied up. We’ll have to get help.” Charley stepped out into the aisle and yelled, “Hank!”

  When he got no response, he said, “Where’s he gone off to?”

  “He never seems to be around when I need help with Gunpowder,” Jorge said. “Maybe he’s afraid of him now.”

&
nbsp; Charley slapped his thigh. “That’s just plain dumb.” He spied Brittany and Claire and waved at them. “You two about done with Daisy? Could you lend us a hand?”

  “Sure,” Brittany answered.

  Claire followed her into the treatment area, where Jorge positioned them on either side of Gunpowder’s head with a ready supply of carrots. While they cooed to the horse, fed him and petted him, Charley and Jorge made quick work of tying off his back legs so Gunpowder couldn’t kick them.

  Jorge gently lifted Gunpowder’s tail.

  The horse’s eyes rolled back. He pushed his weight off his front legs, as if preparing to buck. But his back legs yanked at the ties, which held, and they went nowhere. He floundered and struggled to regain his footing. Brittany held his bridle tightly to keep his head level.

  Once Gunpowder had regained his footing, Claire held out a carrot on her palm under his nose. But the horse wanted nothing to do with it. Instead he let out a loud squeal of protest.

  “Whoa boy, whoa there.” Charley ran his hands along Gunpowder’s shivering flank while Jorge stood motionless, Gunpowder’s tail half-raised in his hand. When the horse had quieted, Charley nodded to Jorge. “Try again.”

  Jorge slowly lifted the tail higher while Brittany and Charley kept up a steady stream of calming words and Claire rubbed Gunpowder’s neck. The horse shifted nervously, but he seemed to realize he could go nowhere. He gave a loud snort and stopped pulling against the restraints. He made do with expressing his displeasure by stomping his front feet and blowing and snorting.

  “Watch your feet,” Brittany warned.

  Claire stepped back, but stayed within arm’s length of Gunpowder so she could continue to soothe him.

  Jorge ducked his head then let out a low whistle. “Get a flashlight, Charley, and look at this.”

  Charley grabbed a flashlight off the built-in shelves along the back wall of the treatment area. He shone it on the area of Gunpowder’s rump under his tail and leaned down next to Jorge.

  Jorge pointed. “See these three wounds?”

  “Yeah, and they’re infected,” Charley said. “I’m surprised we didn’t smell it before.”

  “From the amount of pus and the scabbing,” Jorge said, “I’d say these wounds are over a week old.”

  “Looks like punctures. And they’re in an almost straight vertical line.” Charley stood and stared at Jorge. “What caused this?”

  Jorge measured the gap between the wounds with his thumb and forefinger then stood with them held that width apart. He studied the gap for a moment. Then he let go of Gunpowder’s tail with his other hand and walked to where the mucking tools were stored. He lifted a three-pronged hay fork and held it up to his thumb and forefinger.

  The widths matched.

  “Some bastardo poked him with one of these,” Jorge said. “And under the tail, where it wouldn’t show. That’s why Gunpowder is so touchy.”

  “Shit. I’ll call the vet to come treat him,” Charley said. “We’ll probably need to dose him with antibiotics, too.”

  “While we are waiting for the vet, I can try to clean the wounds,” Jorge said, “as long as you three are here to calm him. We need to get that pus out of there.”

  Claire had been thinking during this exchange. “I think you should wait on that, Jorge. And you’ve got another call to make, Charley.”

  “To who?”

  “Detective Wilson. He’s going to want pictures of Gunpowder’s wounds for his case file. If they’re over a week old like Jorge said, then Gil must have lied in his suicide note. He must have dragged Kyle into Gunpowder’s stall and poked him with the hay fork to get him to stomp on Kyle.”

  Brittany gasped.

  Jorge nodded. “That makes sense. I couldn’t figure out why Gunpowder would stomp on Kyle, even if Kyle dragged himself into his stall. But if Gunpowder was being poked with the fork and feeling pain, all he would think about is trying to get away from the person torturing him.”

  “Poor guy.” Charley massaged Gunpowder’s flank. “We’ll get you fixed up soon.” He went off to make the phone calls while the others kept the horse calm.

  When Charley returned, he said, “Detective Wilson said you could clean the wounds, Jorge. He said you’re probably as good a judge as a horse vet of how old the wounds are. But he said not to bandage them before he takes photos. He needs to know the depth and width of the punctures. And we’re in luck with the vet. He’s on another call at a private stable near here and said he’ll stop by once he’s done there.”

  Claire, Charley, and Brittany spent the next twenty minutes keeping Gunpowder calm while Jorge cleaned and flushed the wounds with antiseptic soap and warm water. Detective Wilson and the vet arrived at about the same time. After Wilson took photos and measurements and wrote down Jorge’s and the vet’s statements about the approximate age of the wounds, the vet went to work.

  He gave Gunpowder a shot of painkiller followed by one containing antibiotics. Then he sewed up and bandaged the wounds. By the time he finished and Charley led Gunpowder back to his stall, the horse was a shivering wreck.

  The vet shook his head while packaging his supplies. “Those wounds were deep, and I’m sure very painful. No wonder Gunpowder was giving you problems.” He handed Jorge a bottle of huge pills. “Give him one of these antibiotics twice a day.”

  While the vet briefed Jorge on continued care for Gunpowder, Detective Wilson signaled to Charley and Claire. “Can we talk privately?”

  They passed Hank on the way out of the barn. He was returning from the back pasture. In answer to Charley’s question, he said he had taken two of the horses out there so he could clean their stalls. Then he went to work mucking out their stalls, which were well away from Gunpowder’s. Claire noticed his worried glances at Gunpowder’s stall and the vet.

  Once outside and away from everyone else, Wilson turned to Claire and Charley. “Contrary to what I thought yesterday, this case cannot be wrapped up in a tidy package. I’m back to looking for a killer. The coroner said the abrasions on Mendoza’s palms couldn’t have been self-induced, and now we have these wounds from the hay fork.”

  “Could Gil have been lying in his suicide note?” Claire asked. “Maybe he didn’t want to admit that he dragged Kyle into the stall and poked Gunpowder to get him to stomp on him.”

  “I might’ve thought that except for one more very interesting piece of evidence. The bullet in Mr. Kaplan’s head didn’t come from his gun. In fact, it came from a rifle.”

  “What?” Charley shouted at the same time that Claire said, “Oh, God!”

  Then Claire had another thought. “Was the suicide note fake, then?”

  “We confirmed that it’s Gil Kaplan’s handwriting,” Wilson said. “But he could’ve been forced to write it by someone holding a rifle to his head. Or, he really was considering suicide, but before he could carry out his plan, someone else took care of it for him.”

  “Who?” Claire and Charley asked simultaneously.

  “My current theory is that it’s the same person who killed Kyle Mendoza. He could’ve hit Mendoza on the head, then dragged him into Gunpowder’s stall and prodded the horse into stomping on him. Or, he just finished off Mendoza after Kaplan left him lying on the barn floor.”

  “And he killed Gil because Gil saw him kill Kyle?” Claire shook her head in confusion. “No, wait. If that was the case, Gil wouldn’t have blamed himself for Kyle’s death. So, he must’ve been forced to write the note.”

  “A more important question is why wouldn’t he have told the police what he saw?” Charley added.

  “Could be that Kaplan didn’t see who killed Mendoza, that the first part went down just the way he said in the note,” Wilson said. “Could be the killer just thought Kaplan saw him finish off Mendoza and eliminated a potential witness.”

  “And forced Gil to write a
suicide note first?” Claire asked.

  Wilson shrugged. “Maybe, maybe not. Maybe Kaplan really was going to kill himself. Regardless, the case is still wide open. Someone killed Mendoza, using Gunpowder as the murder weapon. Then that same person probably shot Kaplan. I need to find out who.”

  “Then I need to tell you about Nancy Schwartz,” Claire said. “Brittany told me that her mother went up to use one of the port-a-potties before she took her home that night. Nancy could’ve gone into the barn, too.” She looked at Charley. “By then you and Jessica were gone, and Brittany didn’t have a good view of the property from her mother’s car.”

  “Nancy?” Charley said disbelievingly. “You can’t suspect her. What reason would she have to kill Kyle?”

  “Two actually,” Claire replied with a glance at Wilson. “To discredit your stable and more specifically, Jessica’s hippotherapy nonprofit, which she views as competing with her own. Also, she didn’t approve of Brittany dating Kyle. She told Brittany she could do better. And I should know, when a mama bear is out to protect her cub, the claws come out.” Claire turned to Wilson. “I talked to Brittany about it when I drove her home last night.”

  Wilson nodded. “When I interviewed Brittany Schwartz, she said she left before Kaplan.”

  Claire shrugged and said, “Maybe Gil hit Kyle before Brittany left. If she was working somewhere other than the barn, she may not have seen or heard anything.”

  “She was,” Wilson said. “She was cleaning the port-a-potties.”

  “Then when Nancy came to pick up Brittany, she could have gone into the barn for some reason when she went to use the port-a-potties. If she saw Kyle lying there unconscious, she may have seized on the opportunity to drag him into Gunpowder’s stall. She’s used to being around horses, so Gunpowder wouldn’t scare her.”

  Wilson scribbled in his notepad. “I’ll look at the timing again. The coroner put time of death as a couple of hours later than that, but I’ll see what he thinks his margin of error could be. Then I’ll talk to Nancy Schwartz.”