Inn the Spirit of Trickery

by Becki Willis

  “I hear Guy leads the chase,” Hannah said. “I understand he’s one of your most avid admirers.”

  Daphne shrugged. “Where’d you hear that?”

  “Several people mentioned it, actually. That must have been a little awkward for you, since he and Rusty were best friends and all. I understand you and Rusty weren’t very close?” She made it a question.

  “You could say that.”

  “Any particular reason?”

  Daphne all but hooted. “Did you ever meet the man? All he ever did was complain. No matter what it was, it didn’t suit him. Not many people did get along with him, if you want to know the truth.”

  “What about Guy? I understand they were best friends and roommates, but still had a tumultuous relationship.”

  “If that means they fought a lot, then, yeah. They had a tumbled relationship.”

  Hannah bit back a smile, not bothering to correct her. She lowered her voice to ask, “Just between us, do you think Guy could have had anything to do with his death?”

  Daphne denied it, but Hannah could hear the note of doubt in her voice. “Guy’s a hothead, but surely he wouldn’t… I mean, he’s harmless. Mostly. I don’t think he’d really do it, even if he did threaten to a time or two.”

  The revelation surprised Hannah. “He actually threatened to kill his roommate?” She couldn’t keep the shock from her voice.

  “Maybe,” she admitted, not quite meeting Hannah’s eyes. A group of people came through the line, interrupting further comment. By the time they moved on, Daphne must have felt the need to defend her suitor.

  “It’s just that Guy was awfully upset,” she explained, “when he found out Rusty had blackmailed me a couple of times.”

  The surprises just kept coming. “Rusty blackmailed you? Whatever for?”

  “Well,” the performer admitted with a coy smile, “I may have led one or two fellas on. At the same time. But a woman gets lonely, you know, living on the road all the time. Rusty may have found out a time or two, and tried to make a few dollars off my loneliness.”

  “Was he blackmailing you when he died?”

  “No, ma’am, not me. I learned my lesson the last time. Even if Rusty wasn’t bleeding me dry, it was too nerve wracking, seeing two brothers at one time. But somehow, Guy found out—not about his brother, thank God, but about the blackmail scheme—and he was furious with Rusty.”

  Holy boomtown! This is no more than a traveling soap opera!

  Hannah schooled the shock from showing on her face. Daphne was not only John Boy’s ex and Guy’s wanna-be, but she dallied with Guy’s brother behind his back. And all the while, she tried to hook up with Pierce. Geesh. When does she find time to practice her routine? Or sleep?

  “I don’t think he would carry through with his threat,” Daphne continued, “but… I just don’t know. With his hot temper, sometimes Guy scares me.”

  “You should talk to the police and tell them your concerns.”

  Guy, of all people, chose that moment to walk up. Hannah didn’t think he had overheard their conversation, but she couldn’t be certain. She watched for a telltale sign on his face that he might be upset, but he only seemed concerned with Daphne.

  “Hey, there, gorgeous,” he said. He thrust a cold drink forward. “I thought you might enjoy a little something cold. It’s already getting mighty warm.”

  “Why, thank you, sugar. What a sweet thing to do!” Daphne purred the words as she curled her long body into a seductive pose. “I was just telling Hannah here what a sweetheart you were. Isn’t that right, Hannah? Weren’t we just talking about this handsome hunk of a man?”

  “Uhm, yes. Yes, that’s exactly right.”

  Clearly flattered, he wanted to hear more. “Yeah? What were you saying about me?”

  Before Daphne could babble more coquettish nonsense, Hannah piped in. “We were saying how hard it must be for you, losing your best friend and roommate.”

  His demeanor immediately changed. “What were you talking about that for?” he asked gruffly. “What was between Rusty and me is none of your business!”

  Seeing the flash of anger in his eyes—he was a hothead!—Hannah quickly fabricated a response. “Daphne was worried you might become depressed.”

  “I’m depressed that my brother didn’t get the head wrangler job,” he grumbled. His glower deepened. “After all we did for her, and then she goes and gives the job to an outsider! It just ain’t right!” He kicked at a loose clump of grass. “We’re good enough to do all her dirty work for her, but not good enough to get promotions. I’ve been working for the same measly pay for the past three years.”

  Daphne shot a now look what you’ve done frown to Hannah. To Guy, she purred, “Aw, don’t be like that, sugar. Shelton Long isn’t staying on. This was just a one-thing time. And I have a feeling that after the show in Palestine next weekend, we’ll all be getting a raise. I overheard the top brass talking. Something about after next week, money wouldn’t be a problem anymore.”

  “Don’t mean they’ll share a dime with us,” Guy grumbled, but his expression lightened somewhat.

  “They said there’d be enough to go around. I figure that means we’ll all get a raise.”

  Hannah turned to greet a family of five as they came through the line. As showtime drew closer and the crowd picked up, there was no more time for conversation.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  The cast bowed for their second standing ovation as Hannah made her way out of the stands. As this was the final performance, there was no carnival this afternoon. Instead, the fans were invited to come down and mingle with the cast for last-minute selfies and scribbled autographs. Hannah navigated the crowd, intent on checking on Ladybird. She had seen Jeff herding the horses toward the back, which meant the farrier should be there, too.

  Jeff. Guy’s brother. The heir-apparent to the head wrangler throne. Hannah cataloged the thoughts in her head as she walked. Was Jeff one of the brothers with the domestic abuse rap sheet?

  A feeling of unease moved through her shoulders.

  More importantly, could Jeff have been the one to kill Rusty? Not only did he covet the late wrangler’s position, but he also had reason to keep him silent. He wouldn’t want his brother to know of his affair with Daphne.

  As the saying goes, Hannah thought, dead men tell no tales.

  When she rounded the corner and spotted Shelton unsaddling the horses without help, she breathed a little easier. At least for now, Jeff was nowhere to be seen.

  The lanky farrier whistled a tune as he worked. Hannah vaguely recognized it as a show tune, although his rendition had a slightly different beat, and added bars. Come to think of it, she decided, maybe it wasn’t a tune she recognized. That, or he was terrible at whistling.

  “Shelton?”

  He looked up when she called his name. A slow, pleased smile spread across his face. Could he fake such pleasure at seeing her, she wondered. Or did it please him because she sought him out? He might see it as being one step ahead of the lawyer in the race for the innkeeper’s heart.

  Get over yourself, girlfriend. It’s not your heart they’re fighting over.

  “Hey, Hannah. I’m glad you came. I was going to look you up, just as soon as I finished up here.”

  “How’s Ladybird today?”

  The smile fell from his face. “I’m worried about her. The vet is on her way now. I can’t see any obvious damage, but she’s still limping. I’m worried it may be nerve damage.”

  “That doesn’t sound good.”

  Neither did having the doctor on the premises. For whatever reason, Hannah didn’t look forward to meeting the other woman, especially knowing she had once been someone important in Walker’s life.

  She pictured the vet in her mind’s eye. Small, petite, with flawless skin, and long flaxen hair. A figure to die for. A scintillating combination of femininity and intelligence, making her virtually impossible to compete with.

  Hannah shook h
er head, knocking the foolish thought from her head. There was no competition.

  Shelton was still talking about his horse, spouting off possible scenarios and their horrific consequences.

  “Shelton. Just calm down. Breathe.” A smile played with the corners of her mouth. “Isn’t that what you told me, when I got hysterical?”

  Finished with taking the rigging from the last horse, he slapped it on the rump to send it on its way. The horse went straight to the feed trough, where its companions were currently huddled. Shelton brushed his hands clean as he sauntered her way.

  His smile was fifty percent amusement, fifty percent confidence. One hundred percent charm.

  “Feel free to use my foolproof method of stopping hysterical rants,” he offered, stopping just in front of her. Only the corral railing separated them.

  Hannah stood on tiptoe to brush a kiss against his cheek.

  “Slightly less effective than my preferred method,” he said with a pretend scowl, “but acceptable.”

  “I came by to thank you, Shelton.”

  He looked genuinely surprised. “For what?”

  “For saving this weekend. Without you, it could have been a complete disaster.”

  “Nah, I didn’t do all that much.”

  “Are you kidding? You rearranged your schedule, forfeited your entire weekend, and went above and beyond the call of duty. You took on a difficult task and made it look easy. You donated your time and effort, your expertise with animals, and then, to top it off, you donated your prized horse. My biggest regret is that Ladybird got hurt in the process.”

  “And yet, all you offer me as thanks is a peck on the cheek?” he teased. “Surely, you can do better than that.” His long arms slipped around her waist and drew her against the fence.

  Before Hannah could contemplate the next step, they heard someone approaching.

  “I’m sorry I’m late getting here. How’s our patient today?”

  The blond man dropped his arms from around her and vaulted over the fence, making the feat look effortless. “Hey, Doc. Thanks for coming.” His attention shifted to the other woman, but his concern was for his horse. “I’m worried. She’s worse today. Laid out on her side, like something hurts.”

  “Is she eating?”

  “She hasn’t touched the bucket of grains, and they’re her favorite blend.” As an afterthought, he remembered Hannah’s presence. “Have you met my friend? Hannah, this is Gabriella. Gaby, meet Hannah Duncan. The best veterinarian in Gillespie County.”

  A friendly smile spread across the veterinarian’s face, and she extended her hand for a hearty handshake. Hannah reminded herself to close her gaping mouth.

  Gabriella Hogan was nothing as she had imagined. With her hair stuffed entirely beneath a battered cap, it was difficult to know whether it was long or short. The few tendrils that escaped were hardly flaxen. Bright red was a more accurate description. Freckles graced the bridge of her nose and scattered along her arms and hands. Gabriella was every bit as tall as Hannah was, and had a full figure. Her hips were wider than were considered vogue, but Hannah had to admit, the woman definitely knew how to fill out a pair of jeans.

  “Pleasure to meet you, Hannah. I love what you’re doing here with Miss Wilhelmina’s legacy, keeping the inn going and all. And smart move, getting Shelton to step in for the show. If anyone knows horses, it’s this man.”

  She barely gave Hannah time to reply before she turned to Shelton, her manner becoming more professional. “Let’s go check on our patient. I don’t mind telling you, I’m worried about her. Visibly, there’s no apparent damage. Which leads me to suspect it could be something internal, or, worse, nerve damage.”

  Shelton was visibly distraught. “That sounds serious.”

  The veterinary didn’t mince words. “It could be debilitating. I won’t know until I run a full battery of tests.”

  “Spare no expense, Doc,” he said. His voice turned hard. “I’ll sell everything I have to get her the best care. And then I’ll sue Hats Off, until they have to sell everything they have, too.”

  “Walk with me. Hannah, it was a pleasure. I’m sure I’ll be seeing you around.”

  “I’ll be back,” Shelton promised, squeezing Hannah’s arm.

  It was difficult to peg their relationship just by watching them. Gabriella didn’t appear to be jealous, nor had Shelton seemed guilty about being seen hugging another woman. There was no flirting on either of their part. In truth, it appeared they were little more than friends. If they had ever had a romantic relationship, it seemed to have fizzled out now.

  Not that she spent much time contemplating the disappearing couple. She had bigger things to worry about. Namely, what if Shelton decided to sue her, too? She had agreed to cover the horse on her insurance policy, and the incident happened on Hannah property.

  More worried now than ever, Hannah turned and came face to face with Jazz. John Boy was only steps behind.

  “Hannah. Just the person I wanted to see.”

  Something about Jazz’s voice and cool smile—the steel in them, perhaps?—put Hannah on edge. Nonetheless, she offered a cordial smile in return. “Great show, as always.”

  “Thank you. I trust you’ve recovered from yesterday’s ordeal?” Jazz’s eyes swept over her, looking for signs of injury.

  “More or less,” Hannah said. With a rueful smile, she rubbed her backside.

  “We need to talk.” Her tone was abrupt.

  Wariness moved into Hannah’s voice. “I’m listening.”

  “As this was our last show, we’ll need to settle your account before we move out.”

  Hannah was slow to nod. “Yes, that was my understanding.”

  “Normally, we would tally the proceeds from the gate, apply potential credit from trailer sales, and deduct the appropriate amount from your bill.” The small blond woman held her back as stiffly as she held her voice. Her eyes settled upon Hannah’s. “In this case, however, I’m afraid there will be no applied funds. This is my official demand for payment in full, due immediately.”

  Hannah’s gasp was audible. “You can’t be serious!”

  “Believe me, Hannah, I always take money very seriously.”

  “But— You can’t do that! We have a contract!”

  Her reply was cold. “A contract which you broke.”

  “What—What are you talking about?”

  Stay calm. Don’t hyperventilate. Not now.

  All traces of the warm country-girl persona had vanished. No trace of the sparkling, charismatic performer remained. Before her stood a shrewd, formal businesswoman. Her words were clipped and measured.

  “You rode an unauthorized horse in the Grand Entry yesterday. After the damage it inflicted, I simply cannot allow this farce to continue. Our contract clearly states—”

  “What damage?” Hannah interrupted.

  “The horse managed to entangle itself in some of our wires. It pulled a guy-line loose, creating a possible hazard to the cast and crew. It also damaged a very valuable component to our sound system.” When Hannah would have protested further, Jazz held up a hand to quiet her. “In addition, Mr. Long informs me that his horse sustained a deep laceration and possible permanent nerve damage to its leg. He insists that Hats Off cover all veterinary bills. Naturally, that cost will be passed on to you, as you agreed to be financially responsible for the animal.”

  “I’m sure my insurance will cover all associated costs,” Hannah assured her.

  “I demand no less.” She managed to look down her nose at Hannah, even though the sprite of a woman was several inches shorter. “That, however, is a separate issue. The issue at hand is that you broke the contract. You did not provide the required insurance for the dapple mare.”

  Hannah was flabbergasted. Her incredulous expression said as much. “She was covered under my policy, just as we discussed!”

  “The contract clearly states that all animals must be fully vetted and covered under the Hats Off p
olicy you agreed to purchase. Any deviation can, and will, result in immediate remuneration for our services, in full, by the end of the business day. Voiding the contract relieves our organization of all legal, contractual, and financial responsibilities.” She spouted off the words as easily as if she read them from a script.

  Hannah tossed her hands in the air. “But you agreed to use the horse!”

  “It may have escaped your notice, but Ladybird did not perform in Friday night’s performance. Her introduction to the show came while you were riding her. A horse you failed to specifically list on the insurance policy, which clearly voids our contract.”

  Hannah narrowed her eyes as Tracey Ann’s words again floated through her head.

  …But get this. Dad was a small-time scam artist…

  Had Jazz followed in her father’s footsteps? Had she been duped? What if this had been some sort of elaborate scam, orchestrated to play out this way? For all she knew, Jazz made a habit of finding creative ways to break the contract. Declaring the contract null and void meant they could collect all proceeds from the gate and significantly increase their bottom line.

  But surely, someone would have complained about such. Hannah read the reviews before booking the show, and no one mentioned any devious practices. Almost all had given them glowing reviews and a five-star rating

  All which could have been fake, she realized.

  “Look, Missy,” John Boy interjected, breaking into her thoughts. He hiked his belt loops, looking for a moment like an Old West gunslinger, reaching for his six-shooter. “We don’t want no trouble. We have a legally binding contract, and the law is on our side. Just ask your lawyer.”

  Eyes flashing, Hannah stepped forward and jabbed her finger into the man’s chest. It was every bit as thick as his head. “I’m not your Missy, John Boy!” she spat. “And you can bet I’ll ask my lawyer. I don’t know what kind of scam you two have going, but you won’t get away with it.”

  While John Boy made blustery noises of protest, Jazz smoothly replied, “We run a business, not a scam.”

  “We’ll see about that!”