Read A Basket of Trouble Online
Authors: Beth Groundwater
Tags: #Mystery, #a river ranger. When a whitewater rafting accident occurs, #it was poison. Tom King was a rich land developer with bitter business rivals, #The Arkansas River is the heart and soul of Salida, #including her beloved Uncle Bill—the respected owner of an outfitting business, #and infuriated environmentalists.Mandy cooperates with the local sheriff's department to solve the murder. But little does she know how greatly the case will affect those she loves, #who cheated on his wife, #refused to support his kayak-obsessed son, #but a man dies anyway. But it wasn't the river rapids that killed him, #Colorado. It fuels the small town's economy and thrums in the blood of twenty-seven-year-old Mandy Tanner, #she deftly executes a rescue, #out of whose raft Tom King fell. She goes on an emotionally turbulent quest for the truth—and ends up in dangerous waters.
“Sure looks that way,” he said. “But we’ll have to wait on the
autopsy results to be sure.”
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Claire shook her head. “He seemed like such a well-behaved
horse when Charley introduced me to him yesterday. I can’t imag-
ine him stomping a man to death.”
“If he did, that horse needs to be put down.” Detective Wilson
stood and slapped his notepad against his palm. “And I assume
you won’t be poking your nose into this case.”
Claire bristled at his warning. “There’s no reason to. It was an
accident, a horrible accident, not a murder case where you ar-
rested the wrong man. A man who happened to be my husband.”
Wilson flinched, then seemed to realize that she was totally
right and he couldn’t say anything about it. “So where were you
and your husband last night?”
“I thought you thought this was an accident!”
“Just being thorough.”
Claire folded her arms. “We went out to eat and to a movie. I’ve
got the credit card receipts to prove it.”
He nodded and waved Roger over. “You can go while I talk to
your husband.”
His conversation with Roger was brief, and with the Reddings
even briefer, since they hadn’t gone into the barn and had no connection with the business or Kyle Mendoza. When he finished
with them, he said, “You four are free to go.”
“I want to stay,” Claire said to Ellen, “in case I can help Jessica and Charley with anything.”
Ellen nodded. “We’ll get out of your hair.” She turned to Jes-
sica. “Don’t worry, we’ll be back. We’ll reschedule our trail ride for another day.”
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“Oh, yes, please,” Jessica replied, wringing her hands. “Once we
know when we can resume them, I’ll contact Claire. Thank you for
being so understanding.”
After the Reddings left, Detective Wilson briefly interviewed
Jessica at the picnic table. Since Jessica hadn’t been in the barn that morning either, Claire knew she couldn’t offer much information.
After a few minutes, Jessica went in the trailer and Wilson rejoined Claire and Roger and the patrolman.
Jessica came out with a sheet of paper. As she handed it to
Wilson, she said, “Here’s contact information for Kyle’s family. I thought Charley and I were going to have to break the news to the Mendozas. It’s a relief to know you’ll be the one to do it, but we should still talk to them about it. I know, we both know … how
devastating it is to lose a child.”
She clamped her lips shut and stood looking at the ground
with her eyes blinking furiously and her hands clenched around
her biceps. Claire put an arm around Jessica’s shoulders. They all waited silently for a moment.
Finally, Jessica sucked in a deep breath and looked up at Wil-
son. “When will you tell the Mendozas?”
“After we’re done here. Once the coroner’s office takes the body
and the officer up there has finished taking photos, I’ll drive over to their home.” He glanced at the address. “If anyone’s there, I’ll tell them then. Otherwise, I’ll call the father’s work number.”
Jessica worried the tissue in her hand. “Will you let me know
once you’ve told them?”
“Sure thing.” A noise from the barn made him look in that di-
rection.
Everyone else did, too.
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The woman and man from the coroner’s office were wheeling
the gurney down from the barn. A filled blue plastic body bag lay strapped onto the top of the gurney. The EMTs, Charley and the
wranglers followed silently, heads bowed as if in a funeral procession. Jorge wasn’t in the group, though. Claire assumed he had
stayed with Gunpowder to continue calming the horse.
No one spoke as the gurney passed Claire’s group. Charley and
the wranglers stopped next to them to watch the gurney continue
on, and Charley put his arm around Jessica. The only sound came
from a black crow’s raucous caw in the distance. A man walking
his golden retriever along the road stopped and reined in his dog.
Both stared as the EMTs helped the coroner’s team lift Kyle’s body into the van.
The two patrolmen got in their cruiser, and the EMTs climbed
in their ambulance. They followed the coroner’s van out of the lot.
Detective Wilson said his goodbyes and told Charley and Jessica
he would call them after notifying the Mendozas.
“And you’ll let us know what the autopsy says?” Charley asked.
“Yes, I’ll tell you the final conclusion,” Wilson replied. “But if you want the full report, you’ll have to request it from the coroner’s office.” He paused. “If I was you, I’d start thinking about what to do with that horse. If it’s a killer, you don’t want it around tourists.”
A pained look crossed Charley’s face, but he nodded.
As Wilson drove off in his unmarked car, the wranglers shuf-
fled nervously, hands in their pockets, heads down.
Charley heaved out a great sigh. “No trail rides today. Pedro
and Gil, turn the horses out to pasture. Then I want you to clean Gunpowder’s stall thoroughly. The cops released the scene to us.
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Since there’s blood on the straw, put on some of the latex gloves that are in the stable’s medical kit.”
The two men turned and headed for the barn.
Charley motioned for the last wrangler to join him, Jessica,
Claire and Roger. “I want to introduce you to Hank Isley. He
would have been the rear guide for your trail ride, with Kyle as
the lead. Hank, this is my sister Claire Hanover and her husband
Roger.”
Hank muttered, “Nice to meet ya’,” as he shook their hands.
He looked to be in his early twenties. His light brown hair
curled over the collar of his Western work shirt and a handlebar
mustache drooped on either side of his mouth. Like all of the men, his face was tanned from working outdoors.
Charley put a hand on Hank’s shoulder. “Since we’ve got no
rides going out today, how about if you take the truck and fetch
and unload this week’s hay? I was going to do it, but I’ll need to talk to Kyle’s family instead.”
A dark look passed over Hank’s features, as if he disliked his
chore assignment, but he just nodded and said, “Yes, sir.” He
turned and walked away.
Charley looked at Jessica. His eyes widened as if this was the
first time he had noticed that his wife’s face was tear-stained. He enveloped her in an embrace. “Sorry, honey. This has been hard on you, hasn’t it?”
Jessica nodded into his chest then pulled back. “I’ve got to can-
cel the afternoon ride then talk to Kyle’s family. I can’t help but remember how we felt after Faith died. I don’t know how I’m going
to face them.”
“We’ll do it together,” he replied.
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“This kind of thing really needs a woman’s sensitive touch.”
Charley stepped back and frowned. “I can be sensitive.”
Claire decided to change the subject. “What can we do to help?”
She took hold of Roger’s hand.
Charley gave her a pained look. “Nothing right now. But come
back with your friends another day. Something tells me we’ll need the money.”
Claire squeezed Roger’s hand.
Oh, God!
When word got out that one of Charley’s horses had killed someone, people would
start canceling their reservations.
One by one, nails were being pounded into a coffin for Char-
ley’s business. It was dying before it had even had a chance to
live—just like Kyle.
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three:
hippotherapy lesson
After dropping off a wedding gift basket, Claire drove her blue
BMW sedan into the Gardner’s Stables parking lot Tuesday morn-
ing. She got out, hesitated, then resolutely marched toward the
corral. While taking a break from constructing a couple of gift
baskets the night before, Claire had called Jessica to make sure she should still come to train as a hippotherapy volunteer. Jessica had replied, “My clients still need their sessions, and I still need you, so yes, if you’re willing, please come.”
She spied Jessica over by the corral fence, talking quietly to a
willowy young woman with a long blond ponytail. She looked
to be about the age of Claire’s daughter Judy. The young woman
nodded, with her head bowed. She sniffed and wiped the back of a
hand across her nose. When Jessica gave her a hug and she raised
her head, Claire could see the young woman’s blue eyes were
rimmed in red.
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Claire slowed her steps, thinking to give them more time to
themselves since the young woman must have known Kyle. But
the girl saw her, pulled back and said something to Jessica.
Jessica turned and waved Claire over. “Claire, this is Brittany
Schwartz. She’s one of my hippotherapy volunteers. She does
some part-time wrangling for us, too, when she’s not in class at
Pikes Peak Community College. I asked her to come in early to
help train you. Brittany, this is my sister-in-law, Claire, who I told you about.”
The two shook hands and Claire said, “I’m sorry. You must
have known Kyle Mendoza.”
Brittany nodded and gulped, obviously unable to speak at the
moment and holding back sobs. Two tears escaped and tracked
down her cheeks.
Jessica dug a tissue pack out of her front jeans pocket and
handed one to her. “I figured we’d need some of these today.” She turned to Claire. “I called Brittany and told her about Kyle yesterday evening, because I knew they had gone out together a few
times.”
Brittany blew her nose and wiped tears from her cheeks. She
took a deep, hitching breath. “I can’t get my head around the fact that Kyle’s dead, that he won’t come out of the barn any minute
now with a big grin on his face. He was so careful around the
horses and so good with them. I can’t believe Gunpowder would
hurt him, let alone kill him, even accidentally.”
“This has got to be very hard for you,” Claire said. “Were you
his girlfriend?”
“Oh, no. We just went out a few times. We weren’t exclusive or
anything.”
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Jessica patted Brittany’s arm. “It’s still hard, hard for all of us.
Charley and I are really going to miss him around here. He was
our best trail guide and a huge help to Charley. God knows the big lug could use someone smooth around the customers. And that
grin of Kyle’s could lighten anyone’s day.”
She sighed and dropped her hand. “But, as they say, work is the
best way to deal with grief, and Claire here needs to be trained.
You still think you can help, Brittany?”
Brittany squared her shoulders and stuffed her sodden tissue in
her jeans pocket. “Sure.”
Claire noticed that both she and Jessica wore green T-shirts.
The front displayed the black silhouette of a rider on horse be-
ing led by another person. The words ‘Gardner’s Hippotherapy’
arched over the drawing.
Trying to lighten the mood, she pointed at Jessica’s shirt. “So
will I get one of those?”
Jessica gave a little laugh. “Yep, as soon as we get you trained.”
She walked over to a gold-colored horse with a white tail and
mane. The horse was saddled, and its reins were looped over the
corral fence next to the gate. “This beautiful palomino is Daisy.”
“I remember the name.” Claire said. “She’s Petey’s favorite
horse, right?”
“Right.” A dark shadow passed over Jessica’s face. “Petey’s got
a therapy session scheduled this afternoon, but I don’t think he’ll make it. Charley called the Mendozas after Detective Wilson told
them about Kyle. Kyle’s father, Emilio, answered and said they
weren’t up to talking then. I thought I’d call this afternoon to see if I could bring something over for their dinner if they don’t show up.”
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She sighed. “We might as well get started.”
She opened the gate and walked into the corral. Brittany and
Claire followed. After Jessica latched the gate, she said, “Daisy is our best therapy horse because she’s got the most easy-going temperament. She’s the best for training our volunteers, too.”
While she unhooked Daisy’s reins from the fence, the horse
nuzzled her ear and blew into her face. Jessica patted her neck and signaled Claire to approach. “Come and meet her.”
Claire came over and rubbed the horse’s neck. “Hello, Daisy.”
Daisy raised her head and nickered softly.
Jessica smiled. “She’s saying hello.”
After coming up alongside Daisy’s left flank, Brittany stood
with a hand on the saddle stirrup.
“You see how Brittany’s standing?” Jessica said to Claire. “That’s what you’ll do on the other side. Some of our clients, like the kids with cerebral palsy, can’t balance themselves on the horse, so I’ll sit behind them and hold them in the right position. Others, like Petey and our kids with autism, can sit by themselves on a horse, but sometimes they lose their balance and start to slide. That’s what the side walkers are for, to catch them and right them.”
She positioned Claire on Daisy’s other side. “For a new rider,
you’ll walk alongside, hold their foot in the stirrup, and observe their posture. If they start to slide in your direction, you put a hand up to stop them and push slowly and firmly to right them. If they’re wearing a safety belt with handles on it, Brittany should be pulling on the handle on her side. Then if the client slips the other way, you pull and she pushes.”
Worried, Claire asked, “How do we know how much to push
or pull?”
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“You learn by feel. In the beginning, just be careful not to do
too much. A gentle correction is usually enough, and if it isn’t, you can always add pressure. Balance and coordination is a lot of what hippotherapy is about.”