Inn the Spirit of Trickery

by Becki Willis

  The blonde narrowed her eyes. “Are you threatening me?”

  “No. I’m promising you a fight.”

  Jazz Dawson bared her teeth when she smiled. “Bring it on. Missy.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Hannah was in no mood to entertain guests when she returned to the inn. She was in even less of a mood to see Orlan there, engaged in an imaginary shoot-out with young Eli Sanchez. The family was having such a good time, they had extended their reservation for one more day. The parents currently relaxed in the lounge with their e-readers, while Eli entertained himself.

  She went straight to her office and plopped heavily into her desk chair. A quick call to Walker, explaining the essence of the problem, had the attorney on his way over.

  When the door opened behind her several minutes later, she didn’t bother opening her eyes. She could feel his anger. Smell his scent. Hear the gears churning in his brain, as he sought a solution to the mess she had created.

  “What are we going to do?” she wailed.

  His answer was honest. “I don’t know.”

  Hannah turned the chair to face him, her face expressing how miserable she was.

  “No offense, but you look terrible.”

  “Then I’m a matched set, because I’m in a terrible mood, too,” she informed him.

  “Can’t say I don’t feel the same way.”

  It was on her tongue to say he looked terrible, as well, but it simply wasn’t true. As always, Walker was so devastatingly sexy, it made her hurt just a little bit, in that spot between her heart and her stomach. It created a painful hitch in her lungs, in that moment when she always forgot to breathe. And it hurt in her heart, because she knew his vendetta against Shelton Long involved another woman. A woman he obviously still cared about. A woman she had met and immediately liked, in spite of the situation.

  So, instead of spouting empty lies, Hannah redirected her attention to more urgent matters than her pathetic love life.

  “It’s a scam, Walker,” she said, her eyes now flashing with ire. “It has to be. I don’t know how, but she orchestrated this entire thing. From the very beginning, she had no intention of paying me my share of the proceeds. I can’t prove it, but I know it.”

  “But without proof…”

  “Why else would there be such specific language in the contract? You said it was overkill. Unnecessary stipulations. Why would they be in the contract, unless they intended to use them against us?”

  “I admit, it went above and beyond the norm, but it was hardly illegal. I made certain of that fact, before we signed a single paper.”

  She kept replaying the conversations in her head, trying to find a clue. Something that pointed to the organization being less than trustworthy. Something that hinted at a scam. The only conclusion she came to was that Jazz and crew were professional actors, and that she was too trusting.

  “Somehow, they set me up,” she insisted.

  “Maybe,” he agreed, but the word lacked confidence. “The good news is that as far as the vet bill for Ladybird goes, the horse is covered under your policy. At least there’s no issue there.”

  “Because you personally know the vet?” She couldn’t resist the jab.

  He found no humor in her saccharine smile. “No, because you have adequate coverage.”

  Hannah stood and paced the room. “So, the trick was to get us to use a different horse, one not covered under their policy. It provided the perfect opportunity for them to renege on their end of the contract.”

  “Tell me again how the switch came about.”

  Hannah went through the details of the previous day, as she remembered them.

  “Did you actually see Tilly limping?”

  “Now that you mention it, no, I didn’t.” Her forehead puckered in a frown. “And she seemed to be fine today, didn’t she?”

  “Which may or may not mean a thing. On either account,” he pointed out.

  “No, but it makes sense. Fake an injury, pretend it has major consequences on the show, and act distraught.” Hannah narrowed her eyes as she thought it through. “They’re all trained actors. How hard would it be to fake a catastrophe? It gives them the perfect opportunity to bring in an unauthorized horse. Jazz even threw in the argument about insurance coverage to make it look more convincing, and probably to distract me. I was so busy thinking about the insurance angle, I forgot to worry about the contractual angle! But it was all rigged, right from the beginning!”

  “So Long must be in on it, too.”

  “As much as you’d love to pin this on him, I think he’s an innocent pawn in their game, same as me. You didn’t see his face yesterday. He was clearly against using his horse, mainly because he didn’t trust Jazz.” Her lips took a downturn. “Turns out, he was right.”

  “Maybe,” Walker grunted, still unconvinced. “If he was part of it, he got what he deserved. He may have sacrificed his beloved horse in the process.”

  “So what do we do now?”

  “The way I see it, you have two choices. One, we can refuse to pay. They’ll sue, of course, which could result in a long, expensive, drawn-out court battle.”

  “And the other choice?”

  Walker reverted to scrubbing the back of his neck. Hannah hated the idea, before she even heard it. “You could pay the bill and be done with it. It would make a dent in the budget, but it wouldn’t completely wreck it.”

  “But then I’d be admitting defeat, on my very first effort.” Her voice was miserable. “And Jazz would get by with whatever scam it is she’s running.”

  Walker hefted out a sigh. “So, what are you saying?”

  A lift of her shoulder said there was only one clear answer. After all, she had chosen to Go Big. There was no way she would tuck her tail between her legs and go home.

  Touching the leather amulet in her pocket, she felt a steely resolve stiffen her spine. She looked Walker straight in the eye and gave him a word one answer.

  “Fight.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Once again, he barged into her RV without knocking.

  “When you said you’d take care of Rusty, what exactly did you mean?”

  “Please, barge right in,” she said dryly. “Don’t mind me. It’s just my trailer.”

  “Don’t be cute with me. What did you mean about Rusty?”

  “What do you think I meant? I meant I’d talk to him. Stress the importance of keeping his mouth shut.”

  “That’s all?”

  “Of course.”

  “And did you?”

  “Talk to him? I didn’t get a chance. Two hours later, he was dead.”

  “How did he die?”

  “How should I know?” she snapped. “I’m no medical doctor. My guess is he had a heart attack. Assuming, of course, he had a heart.”

  “Where were you just now? I tried calling you. Knocked on your door.”

  “As you can see, I just got out of the shower.”

  “The sheriff deputy just left. They got a tip. Something about Rusty not dying of natural causes.”

  “You mean he may have been murdered?”

  “That’s the most unnatural way I can think of to die.”

  “Do they know what happened? Do they have a suspect?”

  “Yeah. All of us. They left orders not to leave town for the foreseeable future.”

  “But we have a show next weekend in Palestine!”

  “Not anymore, we don’t.”

  She put her hand to her forehead, already pacing the floor. “Leave it to Rusty to mess things up! First by sticking his nose in where it didn’t belong, then by getting himself killed!”

  “I rather doubt he was pleased about that second fact, either,” her guest remarked dryly.

  “But we’ve covered all our tracks, right?” she asked, stopping to peer up at him with intense eyes. “There’s no way they can prove what we’ve done, is there?”

  “They haven’t caught us yet,” he pointed out. “We�
�re careful not to leave an obvious trail. We won’t use the card numbers we harvested this weekend until later in the year, if not next. By then, they’ll have forgotten all about the show, and how we held their wallets for them. They’ll have no reason to connect our show with a charge made in east Louisiana, or Abilene, or wherever it is we head next.”

  “I don’t know,” she said, still looking worried. “Yesterday, when we did that bit with the trap door… That fat man didn’t want to hand over his wallet for safekeeping.”

  “But you convinced him it might fall out of his pocket when he crawled through. And it’s a good thing he handed it over, too. He had a platinum card, no limit.”

  “But he’s likely to remember the incident. He was clearly skeptical about the whole thing to begin with.”

  “You worry too much. It’s going to be fine. We’ve gotten away with it this long, and we’ll continue to get away with it.”

  “Rusty was getting suspicious. What if he told someone else? What if that someone killed him, and now he or she plans to blackmail us with the information?”

  “I think you’re giving Rusty too much credit. I don’t think he was that smart. I think he was on to us as a couple, not as a team.”

  She blew out a long, resigned breath. “I just wanted to collect my money and get out of this town. My brother’s interference put a real kink in things. If he hadn’t come up with that cockamamie scheme—”

  “Which failed miserably,” her companion was quick to point out.

  “How were we to know the lawyer would ride to the rescue? He planned to do that, which would have ingratiated him with her rich uncle. Now, he’s forced to use Plan B.”

  “Which is his project, not ours,” he reminded her darkly. “And now, we’re stuck here, and you can bet he’ll suck us into his latest scheme.”

  He started for the door but stopped. “One thing, before I go. Did your brother have anything to do with Rusty’s death?”

  Her answer was slow in coming. “No. No, of course not.”

  “You’re sure about that?”

  She didn’t quite meet his eyes as she hedged, “You know him. What do you think?”

  “I think we’re in trouble.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Team Hannah marched toward the show area, but if they expected to make a grand entrance, they were sadly disappointed.

  The area was in shambles again, reminding Hannah of the chaos of that first day. The crew was in the middle of disassembling the revolving grandstand. The temporary arena was already down. Only half the string of faux storefronts still stood. Shuddered and dark, the carnival trailers didn’t look nearly as festive now. Busy with their tasks, no one looked up as Hannah and Walker approached.

  “We’ll be lucky to find Jazz in all this mess,” Hannah mumbled.

  “Look for the steam. The sheriff’s already been here with the news, so I figure there should be steam coming from her ears about now.”

  “I’m glad Tracey Ann called us to let us know. Although with them banned from leaving town, that means we’re stuck with them for a few more days.”

  “At least it gives the sheriff time to look into Rusty’s death.”

  “But if it turns out he was killed, that means there’s a murderer among them. Here. On my land, practically in my backyard. And for who knows how long.” Hannah shivered at the thought, reaching into her pocket to finger the leather pouch. She wasn’t sure she believed in such, but it gave her a measure of comfort.

  Walker stopped in his tracks and stared at her.

  “What?” she asked defensively. “It’s only natural for me to be concerned!”

  “It’s not that. It’s something you said. Hang on, I need to go back to the truck and look at the contract again. You may have given me an idea.”

  “I want to check on Ladybird one more time. Meet me there.”

  Finding the horse wasn’t as simple as she expected. During the loading process, trucks were moved and trailers lined up, waiting to be loaded. The neat order from previous days was reconfigured, littered with obstacles as big as eighteen-wheelers. Hannah slowly wound her way to the livestock pens, seeing very few workers here in the back. She felt tiny as she walked through the tunnel-like opening between two semi-trucks.

  Some of the fences were already down and the horses condensed into as few pens as possible. Only Ladybird had her own space.

  Hannah hadn’t meant to visit the horse so much as to check on it. From a distance.

  Injured or not, the horse was still huge. Not to mention the mare had gone crazy on her, bucking and taking her on that wild ride. However, Ladybird looked so docile now, standing there munching on alfalfa hay. She was a fashion statement in neat wrappings of turquoise and brown, custom made and monogrammed for a special touch. Hannah had difficulty reconciling the innocent-looking equine with the runaway beast from yesterday.

  The dapple held no grudge. She came forward to the fence and nickered again, seeking attention. Hannah hesitantly reached up to stroke her neck.

  “Hello, girl,” she said bravely. “Hey, I see you’re up and moving now. That pretty doctor must have helped you out.” She felt immensely relieved, not just for the sake of her own liability, but for the sake of the horse.

  The mare bobbed her head, as if agreeing with her. Hannah laughed aloud. “Let’s hope there’s no real damage, after all.” She laughed again as the horse mussed her hair.

  The sound of voices floated her way, their angry tones intruding on her cozy moment with Ladybird. The horse tensed and pulled away, reminding Hannah of the sheer power beneath its shiny coat.

  Hannah turned around to see where the voices came from. She heard a female voice, sharp and shrill.

  “I cannot believe you’ve jeopardized my dream for another of your own selfish schemes!”

  The other person’s voice was too low for Hannah to hear, but she was certain it belonged to a man.

  “I don’t care who they are, or how much money you owe them!” Hannah imagined that the woman stomped her foot for emphasis. “You have no right, coming back here and ruining all my hard work! You aren’t the only one who worked hard to get where he is. It’s taken me years to perfect this act, and in one weekend—one weekend!—you manage to ruin it! Now, I’m stuck here in this hick farce of a town, all because of your greed!”

  Curious, Hannah moved forward to get a glimpse of who was talking, but not before she noticed Ladybird had lain down again. Poor girl. Must be all tuckered out. She’s stretched out on her side again.

  The voices came from behind the eighteen-wheelers. Hannah started down the path between the two, thinking to better hear the conversation.

  To her dismay, the voices were on the move, receding in the other direction. Hannah glanced down at her watch, wondering what took Walker so long. She turned to retrace her steps, only to find the path was suddenly more crowded.

  Guy Woods came up the narrow opening, his bulky frame making the space seem more tunnel-like than ever. Hannah felt a flash of fear as she thought about his quick temper and the speculation surrounding him. Even Pierce said he was a hothead and often fought with his best friend. From what she could tell, he had more reason than anyone to kill Rusty.

  “What are you doing back here?” he asked. His tone was less than cordial.

  “Uhm…looking for Jazz.”

  “I’d steer clear of her, if I was you,” he warned. “She’s on the war path right now. Someone called the police, said one of us killed ole Rusty. Now, we’re stuck here.” His face contorted in anger. “If we’re stuck here, we can’t do our next show. No show means no pay. No pay means my bills don’t get paid. If I knew who called the sheriff, I’d…” He balled up one fist and slammed it into his other palm, the sound echoing down the tunneled space.

  Biting her lower lip, Hannah debated turning around and fleeing in the other direction. If she stayed rooted to the spot, or went forward to brush past him, she stood the chance of Guy grabbing her a
nd…

  And what? She was being paranoid. He couldn’t possibly know she was responsible for alerting the sheriff’s office. She would simply scoot by him and be on her way.

  “Hey,” he said gruffly. “What’d you say to Daphne earlier?”

  “I—I don’t… I didn’t… n—nothing!” she stammered. “I didn’t say anything to her.”

  “Then why’s she giving me the cold shoulder all of a sudden? And asking me questions about Rusty?”

  “What kind of questions?”

  He shrugged his thick shoulders. “About how I found him, and if we’d had another argument. Some such nonsense about a tumbled relationship, whatever the heck that means.”

  Hannah’s quick denial squeaked from her throat. “No idea.”

  He shook his head with a disgruntled snort. “That woman drives me plumb insane, but there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for her.”

  Did that include murder?

  Hannah inched her way backward.

  “Why’d you go and get that Long fella a job?” he suddenly demanded. “It should have gone to my brother!”

  Hannah shook her head, too nervous to verbally deny his accusation. She took another step of retreat.

  “Jeff needs that raise. He’s been thinkin’ of buying a ring for some little gal he’s met. He won’t tell me who she is, but she’s bound to be special. I’ve never seen my little brother so nervous over a girl.” He looked slightly amused, until he glowered and jabbed a finger in her direction. “Now, you robbed him of the raise.”

  “Not—Not me. I had nothing to do with it.”

  “That’s not the way Jeff sees it. He says you made Jazz hire Long because he’s your boyfriend.”

  Hannah’s mind worked overtime. Pieces of previous conversations swirled in her head.

  …those Hats Off crew are real characters…

  …Most have criminal records…

  …Two brothers have records of domestic abuse and battery…

  …Guy’s a hothead…

  …harmless. Mostly…

  …Guy found out—not about his brother, thank God…