“Oh, c’mon.” Charley put his hands on his hips. “Nancy not wanting her daughter to date Kyle doesn’t sound like reason enough to kill him either.”
“Would you have thought Gil could knock Kyle unconscious and leave him for dead?” Claire asked. “Who knows what twisted thinking goes on in some people’s heads!”
“Cripes,” Charley said. “What about the rest of us? Will whoever killed Gil decide to shoot someone else, too? Are we safe?”
Wilson pocketed his notepad. “I wish I could say yes.”
twelve:
drinks and deductions
Claire picked up Roger at the airport late Friday afternoon. While driving him to the Phantom Canyon Brewing Company in downtown Colorado Springs, she filled him in on what had happened at Charley’s stable since they had last talked on the phone.
“I’m really worried about Charley and Jessica’s safety,” she said. “We don’t know who killed Kyle or Gil Kaplan or why. Since they’ve targeted two people at the stable, who’s to say they won’t go after someone else there?”
Roger nodded. “Has Charley done anything to increase security?”
Stopped at a red light, Claire glanced at Roger. “If the killer’s one of the staff, or related to one of them, how do you secure against that?”
“At the least, I’d make sure the locks are secure at home, and I’d be sleeping with a gun under the bed.”
“Really?” That surprised Claire. Yes, Roger knew how to shoot a rifle and had gone elk hunting, but he had never felt the need to have a weapon nearby at home. In fact, he kept his hunting rifle in a locked case.
Roger reached over and patted her thigh. “To protect you, I’d do anything. I’m sure Charley feels the same way about Jessica.”
“Thanks, honey.” How’s Charley responding to the threat?
Chewing on her lip, Claire turned into the parking lot opposite the historic building that housed the brew pub and its upstairs billiards hall and banquet room. They got out of the car and headed for the brewery.
Phantom Canyon was a favorite of theirs among Colorado Springs’ growing selection of brew pubs. The building was originally the office of the Chicago, Rock Island and Pacific Railroad, and then the Cheyenne Hotel. Claire loved its solid brick exterior that exuded steadfastness and warmth. Its downtown location made it a perfect place for a pre- or post-theater meal, and Claire and Roger had dined there often.
Glad to have Roger back with her, Claire looped her arm in his and settled into a familiar pace beside him. “You sure you don’t mind coming here directly from the airport? You’re not too tired?”
“No, and I’m looking forward to having a couple of beers, since you’re the designated driver.” He smiled at her. “I picked up a few discrepancies in the audit. I did some digging, then I had bad news to deliver to the CEO. After that final, testy meeting today, I’m looking forward to some pleasant company.”
“Good. With all the turmoil at the stable, I thought Charley and Jessica needed some pleasant company, too. That’s why I set this up.”
Claire paused while Roger opened the heavy wooden door to Phantom Canyon. She walked in and scanned the crowded and noisy interior for Charley and Jessica. She spotted them at a round table for four near the front window.
“There they are!” She tugged on Roger’s arm.
Jessica was waving at them, but Charley sat with his hands cupped around his beer, staring into the glass. Uh oh.
Once they were seated and had ordered Zebulon’s Peated Porter for Roger and a home-brewed root beer for Claire, she put a hand on Charley’s arm. “What’s up?”
After heaving a great sigh, he took a gulp of beer. “A city attorney contacted me this afternoon. They’re going to move forward on canceling my contract.”
Claire sucked in a breath. “Did you tell them that Ana was dropping her suit?”
Charley shot her a dark look. “Of course. But he said they’d also gotten a complaint from Peak View Stables. And he’d heard we had an employee drinking on the job.”
Brow furrowed, Roger asked, “How in the world did he find that out?”
So much for pleasant company. Claire took a sip of her root beer and wished it was something stronger.
“When I asked the attorney who told him,” Charley replied with a scowl, “he wouldn’t say. But since he mentioned it in the same breath with the Peak View Stables complaint, I’m wondering if Tom Lindall was the one.”
“How would Tom Lindall know about Gil’s drinking?” Claire asked.
With a shrug, Charley said, “Who the hell knows? There aren’t that many wranglers in town, and they’re a tight community. The attorney said that with customers being put at risk by drunken staff, and with the two deaths that have occurred on the property, they had grounds enough to cancel the contract, even without Ana Mendoza’s lawsuit.”
Jessica pursed her lips as if she had tasted something sour, and Claire didn’t think it was her Queen’s Blonde Ale. “I don’t think you yelling at him helped any,” Jessica said.
“That prick. I told him I’m not responsible for the deaths and the staff problem had been taken care of.”
“He should have reacted positively to that,” Claire said hopefully.
“He just made a crack about the unsavoriness of the stable’s reputation.” Charley took another gulp of beer and slammed the glass back down on the table. “I asked him how I was supposed to stop a murderer when I didn’t even know who it was. Sure, it could be someone who works at the stable, but as Detective Wilson said, it could be someone else in Kyle Mendoza’s life. How in the world could I or the stable be at fault?”
“What did he say then?” Roger asked.
“He spouted some garbage about the city needing to protect the safety of their patrons, about me being responsible for what happens on the premises. That’s when I blew my top.” Charley leaned back in his chair and ran his hand through his hair. “The asshole hung up on me before I could tell him where to stick it.”
“Oh, dear.” Claire took a sip of root beer while she tried to figure out what to say and how to help Charley get through this.
Jessica rubbed Charley’s shoulder. “I tried to get Charley to call back and apologize, but he refused.”
“Probably wouldn’t have done any good,” Roger said.
“There!” Charley threw up a hand. “Finally, someone on my side.”
“We’re all on your side, Charley,” Claire said. “What about Dave Redding? Did you contact him? Maybe he can find a way to stop the city from doing this.”
“Yeah, I called him after Jessica stopped yelling at me.” Charley glared at her.
Avoiding his gaze, she looked into her beer.
“Then he lit into me for not letting him handle the conversation,” Charley continued. “Said he’ll call the city attorney on Monday and try to do some damage control, find out what clause they’re basing the cancellation on. Then he said he’d figure out if we can fight it and how. He had the nerve to tell me not to talk to the city attorney anymore and to let him handle it.”
Frankly, Claire agreed with Dave, but she wasn’t going to say that to Charley, who was looking beat-down enough. “Good, good. So there’s still hope. I’m sure Dave will find a way to stop them.”
“He’s not going to help me if I can’t pay him.” Charley downed the rest of his beer and signaled for another one. “I don’t even know if I can afford the new wrangler I hired yesterday morning. If she even shows up. I hired her before Wilson told us we have a serial killer roaming the grounds.”
“Serial killer’s a little extreme—”
“That’s the way it’s going to seem to this new wrangler, Claire.” He gave her a baleful look. “I thought the case was closed because Gil had committed suicide, so I didn’t bother to tell her what happened. But now, I’ve got to warn h
er tomorrow that someone killed two people on the grounds, and we don’t know who. I wouldn’t be surprised if she quits right then and there.”
“Well, then you won’t have the extra expense.” Roger plastered on a false grin, obviously trying to lighten the mood.
Charley slumped, resting an elbow on the table and his head in that hand. “Trying to do the work of the two missing staff along with my own work is killing me, though. I don’t know. Maybe I should just chuck it all in, admit I’m no businessman. I haven’t been able to turn a profit in two years. This move was supposed to change things, and I’m only deeper in debt.”
“None of this is your fault, Charley.” Claire stared at Jessica and jerked her chin at Charley to prompt her to encourage him.
Jessica sat up straighter. “Claire’s right. You’ve got great horse sense, Charley, and running a stable is what you were meant to do. All the things that have gone wrong lately—the two deaths, the run-in with Peak View Stables, the city getting spooked—would have stymied even the best businessman. Even someone who’d gotten a business degree and learned the ropes before plunging into owning his own business, who’d started small and built up gradually.”
Claire stared at Jessica in horror. Could the woman have said anything worse?
“Like Claire did, huh?” Charley said through gritted teeth. “Got her college degree, made her parents proud, then married someone with the funds to bankroll her business.”
Roger set his beer down hard and made a move to jump into the conversation, probably to defend her.
But Claire gripped his arm and shook her head. “Charley, there’s no way you can say my art degree prepared me to own my own business. I started out knowing nothing, just like you, and just like a lot of other small business owners. And my business is miniscule compared to yours. You’re the successful businessman in our family, and I’m sure Dad would be proud of you if he were still alive. And Mom, too, if she was still lucid.”
Claire winced internally at this tactless reference to their mother. Claire had visited her again at the Alzheimer’s facility that morning. This time her mother hadn’t been in a mood to talk at all. When Claire tried to engage her in conversation, she just rolled over in bed, turning her back to Claire.
“Jessica, wouldn’t you say my business is nothing compared to Charley’s?” Claire widened her eyes and nodded her head toward Charley’s, which was sinking lower into his hand.
Jessica finally seemed to catch on. She swept her hand in a pooh-poohing motion. “Oh, yes, she doesn’t have any employees to worry about, or animals …”
Claire relaxed a bit. Good, she’s on the right track.
“And, you know, how hard can it be to cram a bunch of stuff into a basket and tie it up with a pretty bow?” Jessica seemed to warm to the subject of belittling Claire’s work. “It doesn’t take any special artistic talent.”
Oh yes it does.
“There are amateurs who make gift baskets all the time that look just as pretty.”
But there’s no theme or color scheme or attention to the interests of the recipient. Claire was beginning to feel prickly. She plastered on a fake bright smile.
“And it doesn’t take any special training, like my occupational therapy degree for the hippotherapy I do.” Jessica beamed, as if sure she had set things right. “So you see, Claire’s business is nothing special, Charley.”
Charley raised his head and glared at his wife. “Her business is too something special, Jessica. She’s an artist.”
“Thank you,” Claire said quietly.
Jessica looked stricken, as if wondering what she had done wrong.
Roger stepped into the silence. “Well, there’s nothing we can do about any of this tonight except try to forget it. We’re here to have a good time, right?” He stood and picked up his beer. “Come on, Charley, I challenge you to a game of pool upstairs. Let’s escape from the women for a while.”
Good move. Claire smiled at Roger.
When Charley hesitated, Roger said, “Loser buys the winner a beer, and I can tell you that I play a lousy game of pool.” He grinned and pointed with his chin toward the stairs.
Finally Charley rose. “Okay. Lead the way.” He followed Roger up the stairs.
Once the men were out of earshot, Claire turned on Jessica. “You do know, don’t you, that you managed to insult both Charley and me to the core in the space of a few minutes?”
Jessica’s eyes widened. “But you wanted me to agree with you when you said your business was nothing compared to Charley’s.”
“I meant small, not talentless,” Claire said. “And the whole point was to build up Charley’s self-confidence, not tear down mine.”
“I’m sorry. I screwed it all up, didn’t I?” Jessica’s shoulders slumped.
Claire scooted her chair closer to Jessica. “I really don’t care what you say about me. It’s Charley I’m worried about. His self-worth is shredded. And instead of making him feel better, you’re constantly cutting him down.”
Jessica drew back, eyes wide with shock. “What?”
“You’re always nit-picking at him, telling him he’s doing things wrong. You say he doesn’t have a woman’s touch, and his decisions aren’t well thought-out. Even if all that’s true, you don’t need to keep shoving it in his face.”
“Oh, hell.”
Jessica’s stricken expression made Claire say, “Do you even realize what you’re doing?”
A tear trickled down Jessica’s cheek. “No, but now that you’ve pointed it out, I can see it. Damn, I’ve been so selfish.”
“Selfish how?”
“You may think Charley lacks self-confidence, but he’s downright cocky compared to me.”
Now it was Claire’s turn to be shocked. “But you’re so good at what you do!”
Jessica stopped in mid-motion of wiping away the tear. She looked at Claire as if to check if she was serious then finished the action. “Thank you. But I’d throw it all away if I could have Faith back, if I’d been able to prevent her death.”
“There’s no way you could have prevented it, Jessica.”
“I could’ve fought the insurance company harder, and faster, when they turned her down for a bone marrow transplant. I could’ve pushed the hospital to look for a match even though we hadn’t figured out how to pay for it yet.”
Claire put an arm around Jessica. “The transplants are still not proven to work, even this many years later. You may just have prolonged her agony—and yours and Charley’s. I think you both did everything you could have done.”
Jessica tucked her hands in her lap and looked down at them. “Just like with Faith, I get so discouraged sometimes with my clients. I love the kids, and the disabled adults, too. And I want so much for them. But sometimes I feel like I’m spinning my wheels, that the therapy isn’t helping them, not permanently. That all I’m giving them is a fun horse ride.”
“It is helping them, Jessica. It is. Even in the short time I’ve been volunteering with you, I can see benefits. You can’t solve all their problems or take their disabilities away, but you’re certainly making their lives easier—and happier.”
Jessica nodded. “I hope you’re right about that.” She sighed. “But I know you’re right about what I’ve been doing to Charley. While I’ve been trying to build myself up, I’ve been subconsciously cutting him down.” She looked at Claire. “I’ll try to do better. Really.”
Claire smiled. “That’s all I’m asking. And I think it’ll improve your relationship with each other, too.”
“God, I hope so. I’m afraid these murders are going to tear us apart.”
———
“Why do I always end up lugging these bloody things?” Roger tottered under the weight of Claire’s huge horseback riding themed gift basket.
It was Saturday night, and they wer
e making their way from the parking lot to the ballroom of the Colorado Springs Marriott hotel. It was the night of the fundraiser for Jessica’s hippotherapy nonprofit. Claire had already given Jessica her family game night themed basket, but she had been working until the last minute on this one.
She held open the glass lobby door of the Marriott for Roger. As he went through, she peered at his face behind the fly whisk and two-piece lunge whip sticking out of either side of the basket. Is he kidding? She hoped so.
His sardonic smile said yes, so she adopted a teasing tone in response. “Because you’re such a strong, handsome lunk, that’s why.” And he was handsome in his dark blue suit and crisp white shirt.
“And you’re such a beautiful babe in that hot number that we couldn’t risk mussing a hair on your head,” Roger shot back.
She looked down at her slinky topaz gown, the hem of which brushed her calves. Not bad. She had worn two-inch heels to make her legs look longer, but she was feeling very unsteady on them. “I’d kiss you for that, but the basket’s in the way.”
Instead, Claire slipped a hand under the back of his suit coat and gave his rump a stealthy squeeze. She wanted him to know that she appreciated having him back in town and back in their bed. And, she wanted him to know that there might be a repeat performance of the welcome home they’d had Friday night after returning from Phantom Canyon. Absence did indeed make the heart grow fonder.
Roger winked at her. He had gotten the message.
Following the strains of the high school jazz trio that Jessica had asked to play for tip money, Claire preceded him into the ballroom. She found the spot on the silent auction table that was reserved for the gift basket. With a whoosh of relief, Roger set it down and stepped back. Claire adjusted the position and made sure the list of contents could be read by anyone wandering by. A squeal of delight from behind her made her turn.
A woman stepped in beside her. “Oh, I’m bidding on that!” She picked up a pen and wrote her name on the bid sheet with a flourish.
3 A Basket of Trouble Page 15