Saddle Up for Murder Read online

  “With what? Yeah, it’s illegal to trespass and squat on another person’s property, but that’s not much of a crime compared to murder. As far as being in Eloise Carr’s home, he says she invited him, which would be against Elder Home Care’s rules, but there’s no one around now to contradict him. We know he does drugs, but unless we find him manufacturing, selling, or holding, there’s not much we can do.”

  Dan sounded exceedingly exasperated, and Annie understood why.

  “And, to top it all off, we put him on the box and he passed.” Now Dan was indignant. “He must have prior experience and knows how to beat it. No other reason for it.”

  “What did you ask him?” Annie was curious.

  “After the preliminaries?” Kim reached for her file. “Did you have anything to do with the death of Eloise Carr. Did you have anything to do with the death of Ashley Lawton. Do you have any knowledge of how Eloise Carr died. Do you have any knowledge of how Ashley Lawton died. I deemed each of his answers credible. No equivocation in my mind.”

  Kim and Annie looked at each other with commiserating smiles. Kim was one of the few deputies on the force trained to administer polygraph tests. Annie was sure that Kim’s interpretations of Pete’s answers were right on. And the truth was, as long as the killer didn’t return to her ranch, Annie felt she had no dog in this fight. She was sorry about Ashley’s death but knew that, over time, she’d become reconciled to its tragic occurrence.

  Then she remembered she was involved. Or at least someone she knew was.

  “Um, I saw your police vehicle at Martha’s yesterday,” Annie told Kim. “How’d that interview go?”

  “Another unremarkable event,” Kim said airily. “Lavender obviously thinks that all cops are scary, but she was totally forthcoming and, on the whole, believable. Unfortunately, she had little to add to the party. She’d met Ashley only that morning, and aside describing the shock of finding a deceased elderly woman in bed in a little bit too much glowing detail, she didn’t tell us anything that helped.”

  “Well, thank god for that.”

  Kim looked at her, her expression puzzled.

  “No, I mean of course I’m sorry Lavender didn’t help the investigation, but I’m glad that she hasn’t managed to involve herself in a potentially ugly situation. She has a tendency to make bad choices.”

  “Ah, yes.” Kim laughed. “I have a kid brother like that. He’ll be thirty-six next month and still lives at home.”

  “So how can I help?”

  With a nod from Dan, Kim continued.

  “Dan mentioned that several of Ashley’s friends approached you at the celebration yesterday.”

  “Nearly ran me over is more like it.”

  “We’d like to know what they know of Ashley’s relationship with Pete Corbett, as well as with Eloise Carr. We’re hoping that you’ll agree to talk to them on our behalf.”

  Annie was flabbergasted. “Why don’t you interview them? You’re the go-to deputy to interview small children, nasty teenagers, and other disagreeable characters.”

  “I did, Annie,” Kim said. “But I represent law and order, and in my experience, kids whose backgrounds aren’t exactly squeaky clean tend to clam up around cops. They’re afraid to say anything bad about the person who died, and they’re sure as hell afraid to tell us something that might incriminate them. That’s the distinct impression I got from talking to Ashley’s friends.”

  “We don’t want you to act in any professional capacity, Annie,” Dan hastened to add. “But Ashley’s entire circle is into horses, which is common ground among all of you.”

  Annie scoffed. The idea of her having anything in common with the ditzy young women who’d approached her yesterday was risible.

  Ignoring her response, Dan went on. “We thought you might take them up on their offer to get together to talk about Ashley. You might get an inkling of something that we can follow up on ourselves.”

  “Right,” Kim agreed. “Just get them talking, figure out what they might know about the case—or Pete’s involvement—and let us know. We’ll take it from there.”

  “Aren’t I making myself a witness in any future trial?”

  “Well, good point, Annie. Yes, you are. But you’d just be laying the groundwork for the police work that followed. We don’t want you to investigate. We just want you to probe a little.”

  Annie privately thought there wasn’t much difference between “investigating” and “probing,” but she also liked the idea of doing something to help the case along. If Pete Corbett truly was responsible for two murders, then he needed to be caught, charged, and tried for the crimes. And the aching guilt she felt over Ashley’s death was not subsiding as the days passed, no matter how flippantly she referred to the event.

  “OK, I’ll bite. Any idea on how to proceed?”

  Kim and Dan looked relieved.

  “We thought you might start with Lisa Bromwell,” Kim said, writing down contact information for her witnesses as she spoke. “Lisa’s got an Appy that’s just recovering from colic. I figured you could ask about her horse as a good opener.”

  “How am I supposed to know her horse just colicked?”

  “You’ll think of something, Annie.” That was Dan, ever helpful. Annie stood up, dusted her jeans with her hands, and got ready to leave. She’d had enough banter with cops for one day. It was time to do something important, such as feed her horses.

  “Now that I’m an unofficial undercover agent for the Suwana County Sheriff’s Office, what kind of salary am I looking at?”

  Kim and Dan looked at each other.

  “Well, we’ll pick up the tab at Laurie’s Café anytime our paths cross.”

  “As long as you don’t order more than coffee.”

  Annie’s long peal of laughter followed her out the door and all the way to the parking lot.

  CHAPTER 12

  TUESDAY, MAY 10

  Sometimes Northwest weather could fool a person. The forecast might be for bright and sunny skies, and then a gully washer would come over the mountains at high noon and let up only after midnight. Other times, when the forecast was for gray clouds and constant drizzle, the sun came out with the dawn and shone bright and hot all day. This was one of those days, and it made Annie feel more hopeful than she had in a long time. Summer was coming.

  Then she remembered the task she’d promised to perform on behalf of the Suwana County Sheriff’s Office. Funny, it didn’t sound half as appealing as it had the previous day, when she’d been swept up with law enforcement machismo. What had she gotten herself into? Just when she was trying to get her life in order, she found herself under the unofficial thumb of Sheriff Stetson, precisely where she did not want to be.

  Marcus had certainly made his feelings known the previous evening, when she’d admitted Dan had enlisted her help.

  “It’s not as if I’m being asked to join the SWAT team and help kill the terrorists,” she’d explained, trying to inject a bit of humor into a conversation that had suddenly turned somber.

  “Yes, but it seems to me that you’re being a bit used,” Marcus had countered. “Why can’t the Sheriff’s Office figure out a strategy for getting these women to talk without involving you?”

  “Like waterboarding? Or taking away their Nordstrom cards?”

  Marcus had refused to buy into Annie’s levity.

  “You got way too involved in my case, Annie,” he went on. “Of course I’m immensely grateful that you did—I might not be sitting in my own home, talking to you, if you hadn’t. But I was hoping that life would get back to normal for you. For both of us.”

  Now that hurt. She wanted the same thing.

  “Look, Marcus, I’m just going to talk to a couple of girls, that’s all. If I find out anything, I’ll pass it on. If I fail, I can say I’ve tried. And I haven’t told you everything. Ashley’s death was . . . suspicious. I feel somehow responsible for her dying on my property. I know it’s crazy, but if I can do this one
thing to help find the truth in her case, I think I’ll be able to put her death out of my mind. Right now, every time I open the hay barn door . . .

  She couldn’t finish. She already was reliving the scene. On his end of the line, Marcus let out a long sigh.

  “All right, Annie, do what you need to do. Just promise me that you’ll be careful.”

  The conversation had ended shortly thereafter, and Annie couldn’t shake her discomfort over their parting words. She and Marcus had never disagreed before. It was unsettling.

  She glanced at her calendar on the wall, a freebie from the local hardware store and the only one she owned. In a few days, she’d be talking to Marcus again, only this time, via Skype. Her meeting with Travis Latham, a neighbor whom she’d met while investigating Hilda’s death, and the board members of his new nonprofit—which included Marcus and her—was coming up soon. Marcus was unable to fly up from San Jose, but at least she’d be able to see him. The plan was to discuss Travis’s imminent acquisition of Hilda’s ranch and how the board planned to use it. If asked, Annie wanted to be able to report on the health and well-being of Hilda Colbert’s pedigreed horses that had once lived there.

  Since the fire at Hilda’s ranch, which had preempted the horses’ hasty removal, they’d been boarded at a therapeutic equine center near Cape Disconsolate, about fifty miles north of her own stables. She hadn’t seen the herd since the day she and Tony had loaded them into the commercial trailer that had transported them to their new, temporary home. Normally, Annie would have tagged along, but there had been no time—her lambing season had just begun, and she was tied to the farm. Regular phone calls and e-mail from the facility had reassured her of the horses’ rapid recuperation, but it was high time that she visited the facilities for herself, and today would have been the perfect day.

  Well, almost perfect. As she mucked her horses’ stalls, it occurred to Annie that it would be a fine idea for Jessica Flynn to accompany her on her trip north. She trusted her vet implicitly and knew that Jessica would do a more expert job in determining the state of the horses’ health than she would. The fact was that Hilda’s horses had lingering health issues—they’d barely escaped a raging fire in the dead of night, and all of them had suffered from smoke inhalation and flying cinders and just plain fear. Considering the trauma they’d lived through, they were doing remarkably well, at least according to clinical reports, but it wouldn’t hurt for Jessica to take a look at them and judge for herself. Annie reminded herself that Sarah had thought Layla’s care was exemplary, too, until she’d paid a personal call to the boarding facility.

  To her surprise, Jessica picked up on the third ring.

  “Hi, Jessica, it’s Annie. How’s the mule doing?” Delivering Molly the mule to Jessica one week before now seemed a distant memory. Annie felt guilty for not checking on the animal sooner.

  “Molly’s great, thanks for asking. As we predicted, her hooves are going to need frequent visits from our best farrier over the next six months or so, but fortunately there seems to be no lasting damage. Her feet are tender, and she’s a bit lame in the hindquarters, but I think that’ll go away over time.”

  “Great. How’d she check out in general? Is she ready for a foster home yet?”

  Dan had brought Annie up to speed on the Bruscheau case before they’d left Laurie’s Café the previous afternoon. Larry would be cooling his heels in the Harrison County jail until his trial, which was probably six months out, and his wife had fled rehab and taken off for California, parts unknown. Jim and Susan Bruscheau now had legal custody of all three children and the bulk of the family menagerie, but still hadn’t made a decision on the mule. Foster care, Annie assured Dan, was the way to go until a final decision was made about the animal’s permanent residence.

  “She has strangles, not surprisingly, and a couple of other nasty hosts that could have caused big problems down the line. But our deworming program is doing its job. She’s now up-to-date on all her vaccinations. The sores on her neck are healing nicely, and her hair’s already starting to come in over the wounds. Overall, she looks pretty darn good. If asked, I’d say she still has a long life ahead of her.”

  “Fantastic!” Annie felt immensely relieved. “As usual, you are the miracle vet. Should I put the word out among our foster caretakers?”

  “Not yet, Annie. I want to make sure her foot problems are fully resolved before I let her go to another home. And I may dig in my own heels, myself. Molly and I have bonded, and I’d just as soon she stays here than go someplace new. If you want, the kids who had her could visit Molly at the clinic. But I think she’s best served right now by staying put. She’s a good influence on the horses that have to spend the night at the clinic. It’s that calm and steady mule demeanor, you know.”

  “I do. Trotter has the same effect on my horses and the ones I train.” It was true. Every new horse at her stables was first paired with Trotter. The little donkey had a tranquil composure about him that soothed even the most agitated equine. Trooper had arrived at Annie’s ranch after a near-death experience from a roadside accident, but with Trotter at his side, he had acclimated to his new environment in just a few days.

  “Listen, Jessica, I’ve got another favor to ask—one that pays, for once.”

  “Heart be still. Tell me more.”

  “Remember the horses we saved from the fire at Hilda Colbert’s ranch several months ago?”

  “How could I forget? It was the most horrific example of human depravity I’ve ever seen.”

  “Well, at least the horses are doing fine. Or that’s the report that’s e-mailed to me every week from the administrative staff. But I really should run up to Cape Disconsolate for a hands-on wellness check. I’d be very happy if you’d come with me to give your professional opinion.”

  “Where are they stabled?”

  “A place called Running Track Farms. It primarily boards racehorses. It was the only facility I found that could house all eighteen. It’s quite the palace.”

  “Eighteen horses? We’re talking a full day here.”

  “Yup. But the horses’ new owner is more than happy to foot the bill.”

  “Marcus? Then I’m not worried about being paid. But I’m concerned about finding time. The only day in the near future that might work is this Friday, my one day off, and that’s if I cancel a dental appointment, a meeting with my CPA, and—this is the potential deal breaker—an appointment with my massage therapist.”

  Annie knew that Jessica always scheduled a massage after meeting with her accountant. She told Annie it was an excellent antidote to one of the most hideous aspects of running one’s own business.

  “Just say yes, Jessica. It’ll be fun, almost like a day off. It’s a chance to meet eighteen gorgeous horses that are getting a second chance at decent lives. Plus, I’ll drive.”

  She could sense Jessica’s indecision.

  “I’ll throw in lunch at the greasy spoon of your choice.” Annie’s tone was wheedling, and she didn’t care.

  “Deal. I’ve been dying to try out that fifties-style burger place that got written up in the paper. Be forewarned, though—I’ve been known to eat two double burgers in one sitting.”

  “Hah! Your personal best is no way near close to mine.”

  Now came the tricky problem of getting Lisa Bromwell to talk to her. She wondered which one of the heavily made-up girls who’d accosted her in the school auditorium she’d turn out to be. Annie hunted for a phone book and finally found one underneath Sasha, who was sleeping under her desk. Gently removing the puppy, she opened the book, glad to see that it had not been used as a urinal. Sasha associated newsprint as the place to relieve herself, and generally was rewarded for remembering this crucial fact. Annie hadn’t had the heart to discipline her last weekend when Sasha had happily peed all over the Arts section of the Sunday New York Times.

  There were several Bromwells in the book, none with the first name of Lisa. Annie sighed, thought of what she w
ould say, and punched in the first listed number on her cell.

  “Hi. My name’s Annie Carson. I’m trying to reach Lisa Bromwell.” As she spoke the words, she envisioned repeating this line until late in the afternoon. Instead, she got lucky. All the Bromwells in the county, it seemed, belonged to the same tribe, and they were only too happy to divulge personal information about other family members.

  “You want to talk to Lisa?” asked the woman who answered the phone. “That’s my husband’s niece. She’s probably over at her dad’s, tending to that horse of hers.”

  “I heard that her horse had colicked. How’s it doing?”

  “Well, I guess it survived, but Lisa’s in a state. The horse has colicked or nearly colicked almost every month this year. She’s beside herself, trying to figure out what she’s doing wrong.”

  “Well, I’m a horse trainer, not a vet, but I’ve lived through enough colic scares to last a lifetime. Lisa said she wanted to talk to me when we met at Ashley Lawton’s memorial yesterday. Maybe I could stop by and look at the horse.”

  “Well, I’m sure Lisa would appreciate it. Horse means the world to her. Means more to her than the rest of us, anyway. Did you say you went to the funeral of the girl who killed herself? She was a good friend of Lisa’s. It’s such a shame when something like this happens. A permanent solution to a temporary problem, I’ve always thought. I wonder if she cared how much she’d upset everyone by what she did.”

  “Well, that’s hard to say.” Annie tried to tiptoe around the subject. “I think if you’re to the point where you want to kill yourself, you don’t really care about what anyone thinks. I think the pain is just too bad.”

  “Lisa said she never saw it coming. Said everything was looking up in her life, just got a new job helping some horse lady . . . say, that wouldn’t be you, would it?”

  Annie’s heart sank. Was she going to have to contend with the little fib Ashley had spread around with everyone she encountered? She’d have to figure out a diplomatic answer now.