Reining in Murder (12 page)

Marcus laughed, obviously pleased at his grateful audience.

“Elementary, my dear Watson. I asked Todos this morning. The fool had decided that the Belgians should be taken to the animal shelter. And that's being generous. I got the distinct impression from the other workers that if Todos had had his way, he would have given them a swimming lesson in the pool without their water wings.”

Annie's yelp on the line apparently urged Marcus to finish the story.

“But they're fine, Annie. I called the shelter and the puppies are warm, fed, and happy. And I've just made a rather large donation in Hilda's name to the shelter to ensure their safety until we decide what to do with them. Have you . . . er, given that any thought?”

Living on a farm with animals great and small, Annie was accustomed to making split-second decisions. Events too often occurred that required choosing a course of action in a nonexistent time frame. In response to Marcus's question, Annie didn't even have to think.

“I'll take them. There's plenty of room in my house and barn, and both are warm. I'll find good homes for them. Or maybe I'll keep one and give Wolf a companion. I'll deal with that later. But I am so grateful to you for rescuing them.”

“My pleasure.”

An awkward silence ensued.

“So . . . you're returning to California tomorrow?” She knew she sounded wistful.

There was a pause on the other end of the line before Marcus answered.

“Annie, is something wrong? I know I laid a lot on you yesterday, and realize you may still be reeling from too much information.”

“It's not that. It's just . . . well, you're right. I'm getting too much information from a lot of people. It makes it hard to sort things out.”
Lame, lame, lame,
Annie thought miserably to herself.

“Then that settles it,” Marcus said briskly. “I can't leave with you still thinking I'm the bogeyman. I'd like to get together tonight, but I've still got six inches of paperwork that I've taken from Hilda's desk and need to sort through, and I have a feeling I'll be ordering in pizza by the time I'm done. Can we have dinner tomorrow evening? My flight doesn't leave until 11:00
P.M.
You can ask me anything you want, and I promise to answer with the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.”

“So help you God?”

“By the hairs of my wife's latest acquisition. What's his name, by the way?”

Annie gulped, thinking of the still-concealed paperwork that had revealed the bay's name. “I'm calling him Trooper.”

“Trooper it is, then. How is the big guy, anyway?”

“Fat and sassy. Enjoying his time with the plebeians.”

Again, Marcus's soft, low chuckle filled the phone line. Annie was feeling better. And she internally decided their meeting would be an excellent time to hand over the registration papers for the bay. After all, the horse now belonged to him. Marcus should have them to help settle up the estate.

Marcus was speaking again, interrupting her private thoughts. “I'll stop by around six, is that all right?”

“Could you make it six-thirty? That'll give me enough time to get the horses in for the night and shake off Eau De Equine.”

“Sorry, couldn't hear that. Do you have another call coming in?”

Annie also heard the rude beep that told her someone else wanted her attention.

“It's probably just the media again, whom I'm assiduously trying to avoid.”

“I know what you mean. Let's talk tomorrow.”

Marcus clicked off and Annie pushed the
CALL WAIT
button on her phone.

“Annie?”

She didn't recognize the voice. It sounded as if someone was being strangled by Godzilla. She looked at her phone, thought of hanging up, but decided to be gracious for the first time that day.

“This is Annie. Who's speaking, please?”

“It's Dan. I'm calling from San Jose.”

She hardly recognized his voice. It was thick and low, and his words were garbled.

“What's wrong, Dan?”
Oh, God, not more bad news about Marcus
.

“She's left me! Dory's left me!” The sentence was punctuated with a large hiccup and a wracking sob.

“What?”

“She told me in a text! Can you believe it? I knew something was going on. I could feel it. And . . . there's more, but I don't want to tell you over the phone. Annie, I don't know what to do!”

Those were words Annie had never expected to hear out of Dan Stetson's mouth. He always knew what to do. It might not always be right, but lack of confidence was not one of Dan's weaknesses.

But this was her good friend, clearly in crisis, and far away from home.

“How can I help?”

“I don't know, Annie! It's just unbelievable. Twenty-five years we've been married. Twenty-five years! And now she's fallen for some hustler who puts Brylcreem in his hair.”

Annie wanted to say that no one had used Brylcreem since their high school prom, but she could hear Dan's ragged breath over the phone. He suddenly started to sob. Loudly.

A numbness stole over Annie's body. There was nothing quite so shocking as hearing a man like Dan cry.

“Just talk to me, Dan. It'll be all right. When will you be home? Do you want me to talk to Dory?”

Talking to Dory was the last thing Annie wanted to do, and she regretted making the offer as soon as it came out of her mouth.

The doorbell rang. Hell's bells!

“Dan? Dan?”

Dan continued to bawl loudly into the phone.

“Dan, someone's at my door. It's probably a reporter, so I'll be back in a second. Hold on, okay?”

Dan muttered something unintelligible. Annie took this to mean he'd understood and she rushed to the door. Peeking through her kitchen window, she saw no media van or car in sight. Perhaps it was Hannah.
Was this her day to ride and I forgot?

She opened the back door cautiously.

A slender reed of a woman stood on the doorstep. She was a good two inches taller than Annie and dressed in a peasant blouse, flowing, multicolored skirt, and, to Annie's horror—Birkenstock sandals. She didn't know which was more dazzling—the woman's beaming smile or the mass of bright pink hair above it. A bevy of bangles jangled as Annie's visitor flung out her arms toward her.

“Sister!”

S
ATURDAY
N
IGHT,
F
EBRUARY
27
^TH
—S
UNDAY
, F
EBRUARY
28
^TH

Annie groaned. She had been standing in the center of her living room, still in shock from Lavender's appearance. Wolf, at her feet, emitted a small, inquisitive whine.

Lavender, however, seemed utterly pleased with her new situation. She'd plunked down her paisley satchel in Annie's guest bedroom without being asked and immediately set up her toiletries in the hall bathroom. A quavering soprano voice singing an old Dylan tune echoed off the bathroom tiles. The tinkling sound of glass hitting the floor interrupted the performance. “Oh, shoot,” said the soprano, in a voice an octave lower.

“Kill me now,” Annie muttered, and marched into the kitchen. It was definitely Glenlivet time.

Now sipping her scotch, she surveyed her half sister on the couch with a critical eye and asked, “How was your trip?”

“Oh, Sister! What a journey! I met
so
many interesting people. Life changing, actually! You never really know where you're going to find your real family, do you?”

You certainly didn't have any trouble finding ME,
Annie wanted to say. Instead, she remarked coolly, “Well, the family you left behind in Florida is wondering where their Aston Martin is. Did it arrive with you?”

Lavender made a face.

“That piece of junk. I traded it in Fort Worth for a bus ticket out here. It just stopped running one day.”

Annie felt a very slight sympathetic pang for her father. She knew he loved that car more than his firstborn daughter.

“Did you try taking it to a shop?”

“Of course, Sister! But the engine was simply gone. I think they said something about the oil. Really, Father could have done a better job of making sure it was drivable. It wasn't my fault.”

Of course not,
thought Annie.
Nothing ever is.

“So how'd you get here?”

“The nicest deputy, Sister! He was so handsome, too. When I got into town, I just went to the police station and asked for a ride. Tony said he was going your way, anyhow. Do you think he has a girlfriend?”

Tony Elizalde. Already Lavender had put him on a first-name basis, but then, she probably did that with everyone. Still, Tony shouldn't have aided and abetted Lavender's scheme. At the very least, he should have called to warn her the ditz was on the way.

“He has several girlfriends. All of whom know how to wield machetes.”

Lavender's stricken face made it clear that she did not fully appreciate or comprehend Annie's sense of humor.

“Never mind. So, what are your plans now?” Annie sounded cross even to herself, but the pink apparition before her didn't seem to notice.

“Why, to help you, of course! Whatever I can do. You just say.” Lavender sat back and looked quite pleased with herself.

“Great. We'll be up at six, then. You can help me feed the horses and muck the stalls. Consider this an easy introduction to farm life. In another month, you can help with the lambing.”

Lavender looked horrified.

“Oh, no, Sister! I meant, whatever I can do using my special skills! You know, talking to your animals, helping you with your spiritual crises, empowering you to do the work of the Spirit—”

“I don't have any spiritual crises, Lavender,” Annie interrupted. The words came out a tad louder than Annie would have wished. “And I'm perfectly capable of communicating with my horses.”

The sight of Lavender's crestfallen face made Annie stop short. She sighed. It was her tenth audible sigh since Lavender had arrived a half hour before.

“Look, Lavender. I don't want to stop you from pursuing your dream, whatever it is. But you just can't go around assuming that other people need your help. If you don't want to help with the horses, at least you can help around the house. It hasn't been cleaned in years. And I'm prepared to let you stay for one month. But that's it.”

Annie raised her hand as Lavender leaned forward and tried to speak.

“If you really want to stay in our community, I'm certain you'll find something to do,” Annie continued. “And I'm sure you'll find many friends who are much better suited to your lifestyle than I am. Consider me a springboard into your great journey of life.”

She spoke the last words sarcastically, but it was lost on Lavender.

“You're absolutely right, Sister. I know this is where I'm meant to be . . . in your community, I mean, not your house. Not forever, anyway.”

“Great. Well, I'm going to bed. If you're hungry, feel free to rummage around in the kitchen.”

“Good night, Sister. And thank you so much for the opportunity to work in your home. I didn't want to say it before, but you're right, there's a lot of bad karma here. I can cleanse that for you.”

“Yeah, well, fine. Don't forget the dust while you're at it.”

* * *

The following morning, Wolf was delighted to see his mistress out of bed and in the barn in record time. He'd never understood why Annie persisted in lolling around the kitchen, savoring a second cup of coffee, when the whole outdoors awaited them, fresh and new in whatever guise nature had bestowed upon it the night before. But today, it seemed that Annie understood the fierce pull to be outside. Wolf romped his way to the barn, with Annie in tow.

Annie's rapid departure had nothing to do with her desire to postpone her next encounter with Lavender, although admittedly, talking to her half sister wasn't something she looked forward to. The soft, steady snore emanating behind the guest room door assured her that Lavender was still safely in the arms of Morpheus. Annie made a mental bet with herself that she wouldn't arise before noon.

She was much more concerned about Dan, whose call she'd abruptly truncated when Lavender appeared. The line was dead when she got back from the door, and she'd run out of emotional fortitude for others after her talk with Lavender. Yet his behavior had been so uncharacteristic that Annie was genuinely concerned for her friend.

After the horses were fed, she settled in with a fresh cup of coffee in the tack room and called him on his cell. It rang for so long that Annie was preparing her message when Dan picked up.

“Hello, Annie.”

He had never sounded this defeated.

“I'm sorry, Dan.” Annie rushed out her apology. “My worthless half sister showed up just as you called and demanded all my attention. By the time I got her settled, you'd hung up, and it was too late to call back.” That was a lie, but only a white one.

“I figured you had better stuff going on than to listen to me whine.”

Self-pity never sat well with Annie.

“Oh, bite me, you big lug. Believe me, I would much rather have stayed on the line with you than listen to my idiot half sister blather on about the state of the universe. I was trapped. But I'm free now, so tell me what's happened. You have my full attention.”

Dan demurred, but Annie was determined to get it out of him, and he finally gave in. It seemed that Dory had reconnected with an old classmate, Wally Torgeson. Annie remembered Wally. He was a running back on the football team, openly smoked despite the coach's warnings, and did indeed wear Brylcreem in his hair. Everyone tacitly knew him as leader of the jocks. After graduation, Wally had joined the Navy, done a couple of tours in the Persian Gulf, and then stayed in the San Diego area. He'd been married and divorced three times, because, as he told Dory, he'd been waiting all his life for her, his one true love.

Dory had found Wally on Facebook. What the hell. Dan didn't even know how to turn on a computer; he had Esther for that. The two old classmates had been corresponding for months. When Dan was down in Olympia testifying last week, Dory had driven to Sea-Tac to meet Wally's plane. The rest was history. Wally was everything Dan wasn't. He owned a successful marine repair shop in Coronado and was making a killing with his Internet presence. He had what Dory called Real Money. He could still fit into his Navy uniform and worked out every day. Dory was packing up her belongings as they spoke and probably would be in San Diego by the time Dan got home tomorrow.

“I don't know what to say, Dan. I'm so sorry. Maybe this will all blow over in the next week or so. It seems pretty sudden.”

“To hear Dory talk, our marriage has been a volcano about to blow for the past ten years. She says she only stayed together for the sake of the kids, and now that they're out of the house, she is, too. Says it's time for her to lead the life she's always wanted. And that's without me in it.”

“What about her business?” Dory's salon, Cut 'N Curl, was the favored place for most of Suwana County's female population.

“Says she's going to let Shellie run it for now and decide whether to sell it or lease it later. Meanwhile, she's left a week's worth of casseroles in the freezer and says after that I'm on my own. If I live that long. According to Dory, I'm a heart attack waiting to happen.” His voice trembled.

Dory was right, but Annie wasn't going to say so. She was stunned at the resolute methodology with which Dory had planned her departure.
Never underestimate the determined drive of a woman in love,
she thought ruefully. Poor Dan.

“How's the case going?” she asked cautiously. She really didn't want to hear any more bad news, but there wasn't more she could say to Dan without turning him into a completely maudlin sop again.

Dan's voice grew stronger.

“I know you still think Marcus is as pure as the driven snow, Annie, but we have got motive with a capital
M
locked up with what we've found down here. We got a digitally recorded statement from the woman he's been seeing, and it's pretty clear that Marcus was going to toss Hilda aside at the next opportunity. But it gets even better. Hilda must have known what was up because over the past two weeks, she and the family estate attorney were burning up the lines. We're getting a court order today to get at her revocable trust and see just what's been revoked. If Marcus thought he was going to kill his wife and benefit from it, he's going to be sadly mistaken.”

Annie's insides felt leaden. Every time she talked with Marcus, her emotions flipped sideways and convinced her he had to be innocent of murdering Hilda. Unfortunately, the information that followed always implied that she was a total and delusional fool.

“How about opportunity? Doesn't he have an alibi?”

“We're working on that, checking every airline and rental car company in the area. But so far, no one's come forward to establish one, and, of course, since he's lawyered up, he's not talking.”

Dan's tone of voice made it clear that he disapproved of a person's Fifth Amendment right to remain silent. Normally, Annie would have argued the point, but decided today Dan was too fragile to banter with.

“Tony tells me that he came to your rescue yesterday morning.”

Annie started. “Oh. Yes, he did. In fact, he was pretty wonderful,” then remembered how he'd been a lot less wonderful by driving Lavender straight to her home. Well, no point in burdening Dan with his deputy's lack of judgment. Unless he'd called Dan, and it was all Dan's idea. Annie willed herself not to go there.

“I had no idea that the media could be so disgusting,” she said. “They've been trying to score an interview with me for the past forty-eight hours.”

“And it's only going to get worse. We're expecting a dozen crime show production crews to camp out at the courthouse when the trial rolls around.
If
it rolls around. Best thing that Marcus could do right now is to 'fess up and take his punishment. Easier for him that way and sure would save the county a ton of money. As it is, the county commissioners already are trying to figure out how to pay for the investigation.”

Annie had heard enough.

“So what time does your flight get in tomorrow? If it's early enough, I'll buy you a beer.”

“Aw, hell, Annie, you don't have to do that. I'll be fine. Least I got a case to keep my mind off things. But listen, Annie, you watch yourself. What you encountered yesterday will be magnified tenfold if you keep hanging out with that guy. And don't tell that sister of yours what I've just told you. What we say is between ourselves.”

“She's my half sister, and don't worry. I won't even tell her where the spare key is.”

Dan gave a half chuckle.

“Is she cute?”

“She has pink hair. Need I say more?”

* * *

Marcus called in the middle of Annie's morning stall cleaning to confirm their dinner engagement that evening. Annie had convinced Marcus not to pick her up; the last thing she wanted was for Marcus to encounter her pink-haired half-wit half sister.

“So then let's meet at Laurie's Café,” said Marcus, “I'm about to check out but have a number of things to attend to this afternoon. Actually, I have to be in about five places at once, but I should be able to wrap things up by six-thirty.”

“I'm impressed you even know about Laurie's Café,” Annie replied. “I thought only the natives knew where to find the best liver and onions served this side of the Rockies.”

Marcus chuckled. “Consider it a date, then. See you this evening.”

A date.
Annie's heart started unaccountably fluttering again. She was infinitely relieved that he would not be coming to her home. The thought of introducing Lavender to Marcus was anathema to her—she could too easily envision her wacky half sister insisting on reading his aura, or worse, trying to wrangle an invitation to join them, and Marcus, Annie feared, would be too much of a gentleman to refuse. Then there was the little problem of how to introduce Marcus. He was so clearly out of place in the community, and Annie had no desire to tell Lavender exactly why he was in town.