A Basket of Trouble (29 page)

we’re back to square one. We have no idea who killed Kyle Men-

doza.”

Wilson took another peanut butter cookie and eyed it. Before

he popped it in his mouth, he said, “That’s the main reason I’m

here. To let you know that a killer is still on the loose.”

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seventeen:

love and relationships

“Two points!” Claire clapped her hands, her enthusiasm spon-

taneous.

Donny, the energetic nine-year-old boy with autism, held up

his arms in victory and grinned. He was back in Daisy’s saddle Friday morning, with Claire and Brittany on either side. Today, he

had been trying to throw a small Nerf basketball into a hoop from his perch, and he had just succeeded a third time.

Brittany retrieved the ball, but before she could hand it to him, Jessica said, “Hold onto the ball for a minute, Brittany. Donny, I want you to turn Daisy around and try throwing the ball from the

other side.”

Donny said, “Walk,” to Daisy and kicked her in the sides.

The horse patiently plodded forward, and Claire kept pace

alongside, with Brittany on the other side. They meandered

around the corral while Donny tried to figure out how to turn

Daisy so that when they reached the basket hoop hanging on its

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post, the horse would be facing the other direction. Claire realized Jessica was remaining silent to see if Donny could work this problem out on his own.

Finally, as Donny’s smile faded and his shoulders slumped in

frustration, Jessica said, “You’ve got a good start, Donny. Just turn Daisy to the right now. Perfect. Now straighten her out. Great job.

Now turn her left.” She kept up the directions until Daisy was approaching the hoop again from the opposite direction. “You tell

her when to stop.”

Donny concentrated, his tongue clamped between his teeth,

until Daisy’s head was next to the hoop. “Whoa!”

Daisy stopped.

“Well done, Donny!” Jessica said.

Brittany gave him the ball, and Claire joined Brittany in clap-

ping for him. After three throws and misses, with Claire and Brittany taking turns chasing down the ball and handing it back to

him, he made another basket.

“Two points again,” Claire yelled. “You’re a basketball star.”

Donny punched a fist up in the air and turned to grin at her.

“I’m a star!”

When he threw back his head and laughed, Claire felt a warm

glow infuse her. It wasn’t a perimenopausal hot flash, though. It was the good feeling of accomplishment, of helping a little boy feel confident and proud of himself.

She held up a hand. “High five, Donny.”

He slapped her hand and giggled.

Jessica caught Claire’s eye and gave her a satisfied smile. To

Donny, she said, “Okay, Mr. Basketball Star, we’ve run out of time.

Your session is finished today.”

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He grabbed Daisy’s reins. “Aw, do I hafta stop?”

Claire knew that transitions were hard for many of their cli-

ents, including Donny.

Jessica pointed to the nearest picnic table. “I know you’re hav-

ing a good time. But that little girl is waiting for her turn, and your mom is waiting to take you to buy new shoes, remember? You’ll

have fun doing that. Now, take Daisy over to the fence.”

Reluctantly, he followed her directions. Jessica helped him dis-

mount and together they walked over to talk to his mother. Claire heard the word ‘basketball’ and figured Jessica was suggesting that he practice the hoops on the ground at home.

While she and Brittany gave Daisy some water and rubbed her

down, Claire figured this was a good time to quiz her about one

of the people Claire still suspected might have killed Kyle Men-

doza—Brittany’s mother. Searching for an opening, she lit on the

topic of Jorge.

“So Jorge’s working at your mother’s stable now. How’s that

going?”

“Super,” Brittany said. “He’s really nice and good with the

horses. He’s trying to break Juniper of her habit of nipping the

other horses, and she’s already not doing it as much.”

Claire raised an eyebrow. “I’m kind of surprised your mom

was willing to take the risk of hiring him.”

“Oh, he’s not on the books. Officially, he’s a volunteer, and

she’s giving him cash under the table. At least until ICE finishes here and things quiet down. Mom asked me to let her know what

they’re doing here.”

“Is she worried they might start investigating all the stables in the area and want to see her employee records?”

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Brittany’s hand stilled on Daisy’s neck. “I think she’s more wor-

ried about Jorge. She’s really fallen for him.”

“Has she told you she loves him?”

“No, but I can tell.” Brittany’s brow furrowed. “And some-

thing’s going on. The two of them were gone all day yesterday, and she’s being real secretive. Won’t tell me where they went. And she left the house even earlier than I did today.”

“Maybe they’ve got a special date planned.”

“I swear, it’s like she’s the one sneaking out to see her boy-

friend, not me. She doesn’t seem to mind anymore that I’m seeing

Vince.”

“And how’s that going?”

A shy smile teased Brittany’s lips. “Fantastic.”

Claire couldn’t help being a mom. She brought up the topic

she always did with her own daughter about her boyfriends. “I

hope he respects you and values your opinions.”

“Of course he does.” Brittany said with a smile. “He’s really

nice, and even though we don’t agree on every political issue, he listens to what I have to say. And he lets me choose the movies we see. I know he doesn’t like chick flicks, though, so I usually choose an action one.”

Claire reviewed in her mind the confrontation on the Garden

of the Gods trail between the group Vince was leading and theirs.

“He did seem pretty patient with Hank and the rest of us when

we held up his group on the trail. Until his horses and customers started getting antsy, that is.”

Something nagged at edge of her memory. She focused on

what Vince had looked like on his horse, backlit by the sun that

warmed his work shirt in a bright yellow, red and black checked

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pattern. The wheels turned in her mind and the cogs clicked into

place.

The shirt had the same pattern as the fabric scrap found on Gunpowder’s hoof!

Shocked, Claire flushed and grabbed onto Daisy’s saddle horn.

Daisy’s head came up and Brittany peered at her. “You okay,

Claire?”

Claire took a deep breath to still her racing heart. “Yes, yes, just a hot flash. I’ll be fine. Maybe I just need some water, too.”

Brittany handed her a water bottle, and Claire took a long

drink. As she handed it back, she tried to keep her voice casual.

“I remember the colorful yellow and red checked shirt Vince was

wearing that day. Is it a favorite of his?”

Brittany waved her hand. “Oh no, that’s one of his old com-

pany shirts. They’ve got a Peak View Stables logo sewn on the

pocket. He can’t wait to take them off after work. Mr. Lindall gives a couple to all of his wranglers at the beginning of each summer.”

“The same pattern every year?”

With a shake of her head, Brittany said, “Mr. Lindall changes

the colors every year, so if someone stops working for him and

wears the old shirts, they don’t look like a current employee. He asks his wranglers to wear the current year’s shirts whenever they can, and if they’re dirty, to wear past years’ shirts. If he had his way, they’d wear them on their days off all over town to advertise the stable.”

“But Vince doesn’t do that?”

“No. He says he hates being a walking billboard.”

“What year was the yellow and red one from?”

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“Last year, I think. Why do you want to know all this stuff

about shirts?”

At that point, Jessica called out and asked them to bring Daisy

over for the little girl.

“I’ll tell you later,” Claire said to Brittany. As she untied Daisy’s reins from the fence, her mind raced. The killer must be someone who worked at Peak View Stables last year, maybe even Tom

Lindall himself. If all of his wranglers had the same attitude as Vince, Tom was the most likely to be wearing the shirt late at night.

She had to talk to Detective Wilson.

———

The morning hippotherapy sessions flew by, with no real break

for Claire to contact Wilson. They were in the middle of their last session with Robin, the young woman with Down syndrome who

had been smitten with Petey, when ICE arrived.

Sam Unger with his black-rimmed glasses climbed out of the

unmarked car, followed by his young, athletic fellow officer. They headed for the trailer. Claire had seen Charley go in there after the morning trail ride left with Hank and Kat, the new wrangler.

She looked at Jessica. “Do you need to go talk to them with

Charley?”

Jessica gave the men a worried glance. “No, Charley’s ready for

them. He thought they’d be here yesterday, so the employee paper-

work’s all been checked. I’ll go in after we finish with Robin.”

Hoping they didn’t find anything wrong other than Pedro,

Claire decided she would go in with Jessica. For the remainder of the session, the two of them frequently glanced at the trailer as if they could see through the walls. Claire didn’t know if ICE could 248

arrest employers or just fine them. She tensed with dread as she

envisioned the men walking out with Charley in handcuffs be-

tween them.

After they finished, Jessica talked quickly with Robin’s father,

and Claire asked Brittany if she could return Daisy to the barn and take care of the mare herself. Brittany assured her it was no problem, and Claire sprinted after Jessica to the trailer.

When they went inside, Charley was using the computer at the

reception desk, having given the back office over to the ICE officials. He looked up as Claire closed the door and pointed with his head toward the closed door to the back room.

“How’s it going?” Jessica asked.

Charley shrugged. “I asked once. They said they’d let me know

when they were done and tell me what they found then.”

Jessica sat on the sofa. “Did you ask them about Pedro?”

Charley nodded. “He was put on the bus to Mexico this morn-

ing. Since Detective Wilson got a signed statement about Oscar

Vargas from him yesterday, they no longer needed to hold him in

the US.”

Claire joined Jessica on the sofa. “Were you able to tell him

about the possible job in Puerto Vallarta before he left?”

“Oh, I forgot to tell you.” Charley pushed back from the com-

puter. “I went to see Pedro yesterday after our lunch with Mom.

I gave him the stable owner’s contact information. The money I

put in his backpack should be enough to get him there. He was

very grateful for the help but kept apologizing for getting me in trouble.”

Jessica turned to Claire. “Charley told me Pedro kept saying

he’d find a way to send money to pay the fine, but Charley re-

249

fused.” She smiled at Charley. “I’m so glad you did. The last thing poor Pedro needs is to try to start a new life in Mexico with a huge debt hanging over his head.”

Charley looked abashed. “Two thousand dollars is not chump

change for me, but it’s a huge amount for him.”

“You should be proud of what you did for him,” Jessica said. “I

am.”

Claire saw the flash of pride in Charley’s eyes when he smiled.

She was glad that Jessica was finally building up her husband’s ego rather than tearing it down.

“If Pedro works as hard for that Puerto Vallarta stable owner as

he did for you,” she said, “you’ll have made a good business con-

tact down there, one who will owe you a favor.”

Charley laughed and held up his hands. “Okay, enough al-

ready.” He glanced back at the back office’s closed door. “I just hope that the fine for hiring Pedro is the only one I’ll be paying.”

As if on cue, the door opened and Sam Unger stepped out. He

held a piece of paper in his hand. “So what’s the story with this Jorge Alvarez?”

“He no longer works here,” Charley replied. Claire could see

that he was working hard to keep his voice calm.

“Did you fire him right before we came because you knew he

was illegal?”

Charley exhaled. “I didn’t know until after you guys took Pe-

dro. Jorge told me about his own circumstances that afternoon.

He didn’t want me to have to pay a fine for him, too. I had to let him go after that, even though he’s worked for me for years. Did a damned fine job, too.”

250

Unger peered at Charley but seemed to believe him. “His social

security number is bogus. It’s a New York number, just like Pedro Trujillo’s.”

Holding out his hands, Charley asked, “And how was I sup-

posed to know that?”

Shaking his head, Unger said, “You couldn’t, really. But now

that
we
know and we have his home address,” he held up the paper, “we’ll be picking him up.”

Jessica clutched the arm of the sofa. “That’s so unfair!”

Charley slapped his thigh. “Damn it! Jorge told me he entered

the country legally. His case is different than Pedro’s.”

Unger shrugged. “Well he’s not legal now. We contacted the

main office, and Mr. Alvarez doesn’t have a current green card.

Hasn’t for years.”

Jorge should be warned that ICE is coming for him.
Claire decided to try to sneak out and call him. She rose silently and inched toward the outside door while Sam Unger’s attention was focused