3 A Basket of Trouble

by Beth Groundwater

  A warm glow infused Claire. She put a stack of her business cards next to the basket and gave the woman one. “Thank you, and if you ever need a gift basket, please call me.”

  “I will, definitely. This one is beautiful.” The woman slipped the card into her purse and moved down the table to scan the rest of the auction items.

  Roger linked his arm in Claire’s and led her toward the bartender’s station. “We’re off to a good start.”

  Claire looked around the ballroom and made a quick mental

  count of the attendees. Not quite the hundred that Jessica had hoped for—at least not yet. Claire crossed her fingers and prayed for a successful outcome for this drinks, desserts, dancing, and silent auction event. In between therapy sessions, phone calls and paperwork for the stable business, and interruptions due to the murder investigations, Jessica had been working on the fundraiser non-stop. Hopefully if the event succeeded, it would shore up her confidence and she could share some of that with Charley.

  After getting his beer, Roger went off in search of desserts, but Claire decided she had better stay as far from that table as possible. She sipped her white wine and looked for Jessica and Charley. She spotted them talking to a distinguished-looking older couple that Claire recognized from the society column in the Gazette—frequent charity event attendees. The woman’s huge diamond engagement ring and matching earrings were a brilliant beacon to all that they had money, and lots of it.

  Claire held back, not wanting to interrupt if Jessica was soliciting funds from the couple. After they said their goodbyes and moved off to the silent auction table, she sidled up to Jessica and whispered, “Are they going to donate?”

  Jessica held up two crossed fingers. “They have a grandson with autism. I invited them to bring him out sometime next week for a free trial session. If that goes well, maybe I can talk them into donating.” She looked Claire up and down. “You look lovely!”

  Claire blushed, stopped herself from saying, “Oh, this old thing!” and gave a small curtsy instead. “Thank you, and so do you. That wine color goes very well with your hair.”

  Jessica smiled and smoothed her hand down the front of her floor-length gown. She linked her arm in Charley’s. “And how about this handsome stud. Doesn’t he look dashing in his tux?”

  Charley tugged at his collar. “I don’t know how I let you talk me into wearing this. I don’t see anyone else here in a tux.”

  “As Jessica’s escort, you’re the most important man here,” Claire said. “So you should—and do—look the best.”

  Jessica patted his arm. “And that’s why I’m hanging on to you. I’ve already caught a couple of women eyeing you. I want to make it clear that you’re not on the auction block. It’s not often a good provider comes in such a handsome package.”

  Charley rolled his eyes, but his smile showed he enjoyed the praise, even though it was lathered on a little clumsily and thick.

  Claire gave Jessica a knowing look. Then she asked the question that had been nagging her. “Did you sell enough tickets?”

  “Just barely,” Jessica said. “They’ve covered the cost of the food, bartender, and room, thank God.”

  “And I’m glad we were able to give two tickets to each of our staff,” Charley added. “They’ve worked hard these last few days with us being so short-handed. They deserve the reward.”

  Jessica nodded. “I’m counting on the silent auction to bring in lots of money for the nonprofit, though. Thanks again for donating the two gift baskets.”

  Claire waved her hand. “I was happy to help.”

  Another couple came up to talk to the hosts, so Claire slipped away. She spotted Jorge Alvarez standing at the bar, looking spruced up in a leather-shouldered sport coat and bolo tie. When he left with two glasses of red wine, her gaze tracked him to Nancy Schwartz. Nancy took a sip of her wine, then snuggled close to Jorge and gave him a discreet peck. He responded by leaning over as if whispering in her ear, but nipped it instead.

  Well, those two are certainly lovey-dovey.

  Roger appeared at her elbow with a small plate piled high with gooey desserts. His gaze followed hers. “Charley’s horse whisperer sure cleans up well. Who’s he with?”

  “That’s Nancy Schwartz, Brittany’s mom.”

  He frowned. “Isn’t she the one who bad-mouthed Jessica’s nonprofit?”

  Claire nodded. “I’m surprised she had the nerve to show up here, though I suppose Jorge invited her.”

  “They do look like they’ve got the hots for each other. Speaking of hot, you should try this chocolate-stuffed jalapeno pepper. I know you like dark chocolate, and its kick isn’t that bad.” He held the plate out to her.

  Claire inhaled the intoxicating scent of the chocolate, and her resolve to avoid the desserts weakened. She picked up the pepper and took a bite. A moan escaped her lips as the soft, rich chocolate coated her tongue. But as she chewed, the fire from the jalapeno took over and bloomed in her mouth. Some seeds must have been left near the stem. She coughed and tried to finish it quickly, so she could swallow it. But that just released more fire. And heat crept up her neck, the start of a hot flash. Tears filled her eyes.

  “Crap, I’m sorry, honey. I guess you got a hot one.” Looking worried, Roger held out a napkin.

  Claire grabbed the napkin, spit the pepper into it and balled the mess up. She took a gulp of her wine and fanned her sweaty chest. “I need to go outside and cool off. That pepper started a major hot flash.”

  Roger ushered her out of the ballroom. He led her across the lobby to the glass doors opening to the outdoors. Once out on the sidewalk, Claire took a couple of big breaths of the evening air. The cool, dry breeze evaporated the dampness on her skin. Finally she felt her flush receding.

  Roger swallowed the bite of blonde brownie he was chewing and studied her. “You okay?”

  “I’ll live, but no more chocolate jalapenos for me.”

  “Sorry about that.” He held out his plate. “You want something else?”

  She waved him off. “No, I should have stuck to my resolution to stay away from the desserts.” She looked up at the clear night sky and could barely make out the wispy trail of the Milky Way. “Don’t the stars look beautiful tonight?”

  “Sure.” Roger didn’t sound impressed.

  Then Claire heard the familiar giggle of a young woman nearby, followed by the deep-throated laugh of a man. She turned toward the sound. Brittany was walking up from the parking lot with her arm in Vince Donahue’s. Her head was turned toward him and away from Claire. Her spiked heels clicked on the pavement, and her short metallic skirt swirled around her slim hips. Oh to have slim hips again, Claire mused as she watched them go inside.

  Roger drank the last of his beer and waggled the empty glass. “Ready to go back in? I could use another.”

  “Sure.”

  They followed Brittany and Vince at some distance through the doors. Before Claire could catch up to them to say hello to Brittany, the young couple paused to talk to Tom Lindall and Hank Isley in the hallway.

  Claire put a hand on Roger’s arm. “Stop for a moment. Say something to me.”

  “What?” Looking confused, he glanced at the group ahead then back at her. “Is that the manager of Peak View Stables?”

  Claire watched Tom drape a companionable arm over Hank’s shoulder while the men all laughed at something. “Yes, and it looks like he knows Hank Isley pretty well, too.”

  “Maybe Hank used to work for him.”

  “I’ll have to ask Charley.”

  Vince, Brittany, and Tom turned to walk into the ballroom together. But Hank hung back, as if trying to distance himself from them.

  Claire turned Roger so they were both facing away from Hank. Roger gave her a questioning look, and she glanced over her shoulder. Hank slowly sauntered into the ballroom.

&nbs
p; “Remember Charley mentioning that Tom Lindall seemed to know about Gil’s drinking problem?” Claire said to Roger.

  After Roger nodded, she said, “I don’t think Brittany would have told him. I wonder if Hank is Lindall’s spy.”

  thirteen:

  immigration problems

  “She took it well, thank God, and didn’t walk off the job.” Jessica took a sip from her water bottle.

  “I’m surprised.” Claire was standing outside the corral at Gardner’s Stables with Jessica after a hippotherapy session Monday afternoon. She had asked Jessica what the new wrangler’s reaction was to Kyle’s and Gil’s unsolved murders.

  “Kat’s a tough broad. She mentioned she’d fought her way out of a couple of tight spots in the past. I got the impression one was an attempted rape.” Jessica frowned. “Kat told me she has a concealed carry permit and could defend herself if anyone threatened her. I’m not sure I like one of our wranglers carrying a loaded weapon.”

  “What’s Charley think?”

  “He doesn’t know yet. He’s been back in his office all morning, on the phone. I thought it would be better for me to be the one to talk to Kat.”

  Jessica looked out toward the western horizon, where a trail ride had just departed. Hank was leading the group, and Brittany and Kat were both bringing up the rear, so Brittany could train the new wrangler.

  “I don’t know if there’s much you can do about it, if she has a permit,” Claire said. “And maybe it’s a good idea to have a weapon on the premises. I’m glad she decided to stay on. You definitely need the help. But on to another topic. I’ve been itching to ask you, how much money did the silent auction bring in Saturday?”

  “Even more than I hoped for.” Jessica smiled, and her whole attitude brightened as she talked excitedly about what she planned to do with the money. Soon, however, the frown reappeared. “Damn, there’s that detective again.”

  Claire turned and watched Wilson’s car drive into the parking lot. Another unmarked car followed Wilson’s into the lot, and two men got out. Like Wilson, they weren’t in uniform, but from their bearing, they looked like cops. They wore khaki pants, dark polo shirts and athletic shoes. One was middle-aged with black-rimmed glasses, and the other was tall and well-muscled and looked to be in his late twenties. The older one talked to Wilson while they walked up from the lot. The younger one scanned the grounds of the stable as if sizing up the operation—or looking for something.

  “Whatever they want, I’m sure Charley will need to be involved.” Jessica headed toward the trailer where Charley was making phone calls. Claire followed. They ended up reaching the porch at the same time as Wilson and his two cohorts.

  “Hello, Mrs. Gardner, Mrs. Hanover.” Wilson waved a hand toward the middle-aged man. “This is Sam Unger with Immigration and Customs Enforcement. He has some questions for you and Mr. Gardner.”

  “I’ll get Charley,” Jessica replied.

  While Jessica went inside, Claire invited the men to sit on the benches on the porch. Her heart thudded, but she tried to hide her nervousness while she sat with them. The younger ICE guy took a seat where he could have an unobstructed view of the whole stable yard.

  Charley followed Jessica out of the trailer and joined them. He looked worried. “So, what’s up?”

  Wilson introduced Sam Unger to him. “Remember those phone numbers from Mexico in Kyle Mendoza’s cell phone? We have reason to believe he was involved in an illegal immigrant smuggling operation.”

  Claire tensed, but Wilson didn’t reveal his source. Nor did he look at her. Unger did, though, so he knew.

  “As part of that investigation,” Wilson continued, “these men need to examine your employment records.”

  Oh dear, Claire thought. That starts the clock on Pedro losing his job.

  Charley frowned. “And if I don’t have every T crossed and every I dotted in my paperwork, I’m in trouble. Is this really necessary?”

  “I’m afraid so,” Unger said.

  “In a murder investigation,” Wilson added, “we need to explore every possible lead.”

  “Shit.” Charley put his hands on his hips. “Do you have a warrant?”

  Unger handed over a piece of paper.

  Charley studied it. “I know I can request three days to get my records in order.”

  Now it was Unger’s turn to frown. “Yes, you have that right, though I’m disappointed that you aren’t being more cooperative. I was hoping to move forward in my investigation today.” He paused and quirked a brow at Charley. “You don’t have anything to hide, do you?”

  “No, I don’t, but I know my rights, and I’m not going to change my mind.”

  “We’ll be back on Thursday, then. Were you aware of Kyle Mendoza’s activities?”

  “Hell no,” Charley said. “If I’d found out, he wouldn’t have been working here anymore. First I heard anything was when Detective Wilson here told me about the Mexico phone numbers.”

  Wilson glanced at Claire. “Yes, and your employee Pedro Trujillo told me that he knows nothing about them, even though he knew Mendoza.”

  Unger lounged back in his chair, as if perfectly relaxed, but Claire could sense that behind his sunglasses he was peering intently at her brother. “You know,” he said with a languid drawl, “I find it very difficult to believe that neither Mendoza’s close friend nor his employer knew anything about his illegal activities.”

  Charley crossed his arms. “Well, I didn’t.”

  “But your sister did.” Unger glanced at Claire.

  “What?” Charley and Jessica said in unison and stared at Claire.

  Claire slid deeper into her seat. “Someone told me in confidence about Kyle’s involvement in an immigrant smuggling ring, and I passed that information on to Detective Wilson.”

  Charley looked incredulous. “And you didn’t tell me?”

  “I’m sorry, Charley. I had to promise I wouldn’t.”

  “I think I have a right to know about anything illegal going on at my business,” Charlie said with a scowl.

  “Nothing illegal was going on here. In fact, Kyle wasn’t really doing anything illegal either. He wasn’t involved in any actual smuggling. He was just recommending people for jobs.” Even to Claire, her back-pedaling seemed lame.

  Charley bunched a hand into a fist, then crossed his arms as if to prevent himself from hitting something. “I can’t believe this! Aren’t I more important to you than whoever you made this promise to?” His voice rose with each word.

  Jessica glared at Claire. “It must have been someone here at the stable.”

  Rubbing his chin, Charley thought for a moment. “You know, I never asked Pedro about those phone numbers. Since he and Kyle were friends, he probably does know something.”

  He glanced at Claire, as if for confirmation that Pedro was her source, but she remained still and silent. Then he looked at Wilson. “I know he didn’t talk to you, probably because he’s suspicious of cops. But he might talk to me. If you all wait here, I’ll go up to the barn and ask him about those numbers.”

  No, don’t!

  Unger’s smile was predatory, hungry. “Good idea. I’ll go with you.”

  He began rising from his chair, but Charley stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. “The barn’s not part of the public area of my business. You can’t go there without a warrant or invitation, and I’m not inviting you. As I said, Pedro’s probably suspicious of cops, so if you want your information, I need to go alone.”

  Unger glanced at Wilson, who nodded, then sank back into his chair.

  Claire’s mind raced while Charley stood and walked down the porch steps. Charley was unknowingly putting Pedro at risk. “I’ll go with you. Pedro likes me.” She hustled down the stairs and walked toward the barn at a fast clip so no one would have time to stop her.

  C
harley caught up with her. “Why are you coming along? Was Pedro your source?”

  Claire glanced back at the group sitting on the porch and judged that they were out of earshot. “No, he wasn’t, but I’ve got to tell you something else about him before you put him in danger. And you can’t show any reaction to what I’m saying in front of the cops.”

  Charley stopped and stared at her.

  Claire grabbed his arm and pulled him toward the barn. “Keep walking.”

  “What’s going on?”

  “Pedro was one of Kyle’s clients. He’s an illegal immigrant.”

  Charley’s face reddened. “Damn it! Why the hell didn’t you tell me before?”

  “I didn’t tell you until now because I knew you’d ask for three days if ICE came to see your records. I thought you could figure out what to do about Pedro in that amount of time.” She clutched Charley’s arm. “He’s supporting his mother and sisters with what he makes here. I wanted to give him a chance to earn as much money as possible before you had to fire him.”

  Stopping in the open entrance to the barn, Charley turned to her. “We could have avoided all of this if you told me. I’m going to have to let Pedro go now. If he’s still an employee when ICE comes back, I’ll be fined. And they’ll arrest him and deport him.”

  Claire rubbed her throbbing head. “I was trying to do the right thing, but I just seemed to make things worse. Again, I’m really sorry.”

  Charley exhaled loudly. “At least with three days’ notice, maybe Pedro can make some kind of plans. I hate to do that to him, but I don’t have any choice now that ICE is here.”

  At that moment, Pedro came out of a nearby stall pushing a wheelbarrow full of soiled hay. He stared in shock at Charley, then dropped the handles. The wheelbarrow tipped over, spilling its contents.

  “ICE,” he hissed, his eyes wide in alarm. He bolted out of the barn.

  “Wait,” Charley yelled. “Don’t go. You’re safe here!”

  He started to go after Pedro, but he lost ground fast. Pedro’s legs were pumping wildly, propelling him around the fenced-in pasture. He headed toward the hill at the back of Charley’s property that separated it from the Blair Bridge Open Space.