Unbridled Murder

by Leigh Hearon

  “Wonderful. Thank you, Alvin. You’ve made a hypothetical person feel much better.”

  “We always strive to make our clients happy—even the ones that hypothetically exist.”

  * * *

  Annie arrived at Andy’s garage at 8:10, much buoyed by her conversation with her attorney. The trailer was still parked outside on the lawn, and Annie maneuvered her truck in front of it, lining it up with the trailer hitch. The orange Chevy pickup she’d seen yesterday was now parked in the interior of the garage, its hood propped up. Annie could see the mechanic bent over the engine, his toolbox beside him on the cement floor.

  He looked up after Annie stepped out of the truck to survey the remaining distance between her truck and the trailer.

  “Morning,” he said, sounding cordial enough.

  “Hi, Andy. Any trouble with the dome light last night?”

  “Nope, it’s wired in and works great. Let me show you.”

  He unlatched the back doors and walked inside, flipping a switch in the back. Overhead, the dome lit up with a subdued white light, as promised.

  “Thanks, Andy. I’m hitched and ready to roll.” Annie paused. Marcus had implied he had several calls to make that morning, and she wasn’t inclined to return if she’d just be ignored. “Would you mind if I reloaded the hay nets and put some shavings on the floor before I leave? I want to be ready to load as soon as I hit the—the stables in Ellensburg.”

  Damn! She’d almost said feedlot. What was coming over her?

  “Sure. Don’t mind if I don’t watch, do you? I’m in the middle of a delicate task in this old crate.”

  “Not at all.”

  Annie backed up another two feet and carefully secured the horse trailer to her hitch. The operation took a good ten minutes, and she realized she was already sweating from the exertion. As tempting as it was to leave now, she was determined to give Marcus all the precious time he obviously needed to tend to business. So she searched in one of the inside pockets of her purse for the key Jessica had given her, sending up a prayer of thanks that the local goons hadn’t jimmied the storage unit when they were bent on destroying the rig.

  Annie noticed the mechanic watching her as she unlocked the side unit.

  “This’ll just take a moment,” she told Andy, as she lugged out four hay nets. Thank goodness Jessica had given her an extra set. She didn’t know what Andy had done with the first set, which had been in the van when it was trashed, and didn’t care. She was sure the garbage flung inside had rendered the hay inedible and the nets permanently reeking of filth.

  She began stuffing the first net, thinking, as she always did when on this task, how much she disliked the process of putting unruly hay into nylon mesh bags with fishnet lacing. It was labor intensive and slow going.

  But hay nets kept horses occupied on long trailer rides and, back home, on days when the heavens opened with such pounding rain that even the horses headed for the paddock. So Annie continued to stuff, while Andy continued to tinker with his engine.

  “Took me a bit by surprise when you mentioned Danny’s name,” he said casually. Annie had her back to him so could not see his expression. She managed not to flinch and to continue her job. Now she stood upright and faced him.

  “I’m so sorry to have brought it up. I only heard his name in passing, and wasn’t thinking of how you must feel, losing a good friend.”

  Andy gave a half nod and turned his face.

  “Yeah, Danny was a good friend for a long time.”

  Was ? Annie wondered if the use of the past tense referred to all or just part of the two men’s friendship. She wanted to say she’d lost a good friend in the plane crash, too, but knew she couldn’t. That would seem like far too much of a coincidence.

  “Must be tough, after working together all those years,” she said tentatively. It was the most uncontroversial response she could think of at the moment. She grabbed the next hay net and began to work methodically on filling it.

  “Up in Alaska, you get used to plane crashes in the bush,” Andy told her. “Did you know that it has the highest ratio of pilots to population of any state in the union? Doesn’t mean everyone’s an ace, though. Lots of things can go wrong in the wilderness. Especially if you’re an inexperienced pilot and don’t know how to react to sudden weather changes.”

  “I can imagine.”

  “Yup. Sudden wind shear, cloud cover, incoming storm off the water. If you want to stay alive, you’d better know how to handle your plane in all situations. You can’t be too careful in those old Cessnas.”

  What was his point? Annie was confused by where Andy was leading the conversation.

  “Are you a pilot, yourself ?”

  “Me? No. I just work on engines. Although in an emergency, I could probably take one up. No one knows the instrumentation better than I do.”

  Well, that was a bit of hubris, Annie thought. She said nothing as she grabbed the last hay net, thankful that it was the last to fill. She decided she could spread the shavings on the trailer mats when she got back to the motel. The conversation was getting a bit weird.

  She pulled up the drawstrings to the last net, tossed it into the trailer’s storage area, and walked over to where Andy was working.

  “All done,” she said brightly. “Thanks again, Andy. I should be on my way.”

  “Didn’t you want to spread some chips or something?”

  “Oh, I’ll just wait to get to Ellensburg. I’m already late starting out. I should get on the road while the sun’s still low.”

  Annie was walking around the pickup as she said this. The restoration job Andy had performed on the old truck was impressive. Every square inch was immaculate, gleaming, and new.

  “Did you keep the original engine?” Annie wanted to leave on a good note, and figured that complimenting him on his handiwork was a surefire way to ensure that.

  “Sure did. I replaced parts of the interior where I had to, but otherwise it’s the same truck that was built in 1950. Even the radio on the dashboard is the original.”

  Annie peered inside and saw a small AM radio. She glanced at the floorboard, covered with new grey mats.

  “What’s the button on the floor for?”

  Andy grinned and came over to her, wiping his hands on a big red handkerchief.

  “That’s the starter. Just pull out the choke—” Andy pointed to a knob on the left side of the dashboard. “Then step on the starter. Let me show you.”

  Andy hopped into the front seat, pulled out the choke, and put his steel-toed work boot on the button. The engine roared to life. Andy then adroitly pushed the choke back in.

  Andy turned to her. “What do you think?”

  “I’m thinking they don’t build them like they used to.”

  “You got that right,” Andy answered cheerfully, turning off the engine. “Well, take care, Miss Annie. And say hi to your boss when you next talk to him. He’s a real nice guy.”

  “Will do.” Annie scrambled into her front seat and slammed the door a little too loudly. She noticed she was perspiring, and it wasn’t even nine o’clock yet. That was what a little bit of manual labor could do to you in this climate. That, and seeing Andy maneuver the choke in the pickup truck. It had immediately reminded her of the primer Mack had shown her on the Cessna at the airport, and Andy had certainly had a lot to say about those planes this morning.

  She turned the key in her ignition and glanced out the window. Andy was still standing by her truck, quietly sipping his coffee. She waved a cheery good-bye to him and carefully pulled forward, making a large circle as she exited his backyard. As her front wheels hit the asphalt on Andy’s suburban street, she glanced in her rearview mirror one more time. Andy was still there, mopping his face with his big red kerchief. It took all of Annie’s self-control not to gun the engine and to continue her slow retreat out of the neighborhood.

  The decision of whether or not to surrender her photos of the feedlot crime scene was now a sla
m dunk. Of course she would turn them over to Alvin Gilman. Now that she was sure who George’s killer really was.

  CHAPTER 26

  MONDAY MORNING, AUGUST 15

  Marcus was less sure about the wisdom of Annie’s decision.

  She’d raced up to the motel room and burst in to find Marcus still on his cell phone. Annie couldn’t help but feel a bit annoyed. Marcus had promised that he would be packed and ready to check out of the motel as soon as she got back, and it was now nine-thirty. He looked no more ready to go than he had when she’d left for Andy’s.

  He quickly ended the call and smiled.

  “All set?”

  “I am. The trailer’s hitched, and all I have to do is spread some shavings when we get to the feedlot. But listen, Marcus, I spoke with Alvin—”

  “Good girl.”

  Annie ignored his patronizing approval. She knew he meant well, and she could educate him later.

  “And Alvin said I could do anything I want with the photos—share, not share, although if I do share, it should be with him. But that’s not my news. I got a very strange vibe from Andy this morning.”

  “Oh? Do tell.” Marcus seemed genuinely curious about what Annie had to report. She inwardly smiled. She had his attention again. All she had to do, apparently, was bring up the subject of murder.

  “He went on and on about his time up in Alaska and how often plane crashes happened there. It was just weird. And, listen to this—Andy has a red handkerchief, too! I’d forgotten I’d seen him wipe his face with it on my first visit. He brought it out again today.”

  For some reason, Marcus did not jump to his feet and compliment Annie on her brilliant deductive reasoning. Instead, he looked as if he expected her to say more.

  “Don’t you see?” Annie was perplexed at Marcus’s inability to see what was so clear to her. “Andy’s the killer! He was the last person to look at Trevor’s airplane and must have rigged it. Then, a week later, he killed George at the feedlot. It’s Andy’s red bandana that shows up in the photos, not Colin’s.”

  “I see. What’s Andy’s motive for each murder?”

  Annie paused. “I’m not sure.”

  “Not sure or don’t know? Think about it, Annie. As Danny Trevor’s designated mechanic, Andy probably made a good income off the pilot. Why would he want to kill the goose that laid the golden egg? As far as George Fullman, we don’t know that Andy even knew who he was. It’s unlikely their businesses would have overlapped. Even Trevor’s connection with the rounding up of horses doesn’t make it likely. I doubt Trevor ever had any dealings with the feedlot owners. His only business was with the tribe.”

  Annie was already feeling dejected, but Marcus wasn’t finished.

  “The red-bandana theory is tempting, but it’s just not enough. I suspect every other male in this rural county has one red bandana in his possession. Around here, red bandanas seem to be the predominant male fashion accessory, especially when paired with red suspenders, which seems to be another hot fashion trend.”

  She sank down into a chair.

  “Damn. I guess I’m back to Myrna as the killer.”

  Marcus smiled, walked over to her, and kissed her cheek.

  “You don’t have to solve every murder you come across, you know. Solving mine was enough.”

  “Okay, fine. I was all set to give Alvin the photos, but now I think I’ll hold off.”

  “I fully support that decision. Give me five minutes, and I’ll be ready to go. Your dog has been very good company while you’ve been gone, but I can tell he’s eager to hit the highway.”

  “Aren’t we all.”

  * * *

  Seven long days had passed since Annie arrived in eastern Washington. As far as she was concerned, it had been a lifetime. She yearned to return to the abundant green landscape of her native Olympic Peninsula and be with her own herd of horses once more. Every day, Lisa had sent her texts, assuring her that every one of her equines was safe, healthy, and happy—Annie’s prescribed requisites for every animal she owned—and frequently attached a photo or two as proof of their well-being. Still, it was not quite the same as being there. She was eager to see all her horses and get back to her normal routine.

  Although, what that routine might look like in the future with four new horses, and five, counting Eddie, Annie wasn’t quite sure. She’d tried to reach Jessica the previous night but only got her voicemail, and was hesitant to try later, knowing her large-animal vet’s often early bedtime. She’d settled for a text, informing her of her expected ETA on Monday, and had been relieved to see a return text from her this morning, although it was uncharacteristically terse and devoid of details. All Jessica had typed was, Sounds great. See you soon. Annie assumed that she was supposed to haul the feedlot horses to the ranch Jessica had designated as their place of quarantine several days before. She scrolled through their text thread to review the directions and figured she’d give Jessica a call once she was truly on the road and knew her arrival time better.

  Annie was reviewing Jessica’s instructions one last time as she waited impatiently in her truck for Marcus to settle the motel bill. The engine was running, and Annie felt an intense desire to get on the road. What was taking him so long? She looked toward the office and finally saw him emerge, once more on his cell phone. Honestly, didn’t the man ever think about anything other than work? His behavior was quickly passing the annoying stage and bordering on the infuriating.

  She watched him pocket the cell as he approached and gave her a broad smile. It was so appealing that she forgot that their late start time was all his fault. She grinned back and reached over to open the passenger door. Wolf promptly made a nosedive to join him up front, but Annie put up her arm to curtail her dog’s effort.

  “Sit,” she told him, using her alpha voice, then added in her normal voice, “Honestly, Wolf, you were with him all morning. Give me a chance to be with the guy, would you?”

  Wolf gave an infinitesimally small whine but obediently sat down.

  Marcus sighed. “It’s like this all over the world.”

  “I can only imagine.” Annie’s tone echoed Marcus’s, one of mock resignation, and they turned to each other and laughed. She put the truck in gear and started to ease out of the parking lot, heading south toward Loman. They were finally on the road. They were finally going home.

  * * *

  Annie had resolved to get her visit to the feedlot over as quickly as possible. She didn’t know how she’d react to loading four horses when she knew so many others would be left behind. Stay tough, she reminded herself, as she approached the road leading into the feedlot. This was not the time to lose her emotional control.

  The turnoff to the dusty road approached, and she made a gentle right, using her turn signal to alert other vehicles of her slowness. The trailer noisily banged up and down as she drove the bumpy mile before the turn into the feedlot. Annie hoped it was just the unevenness of the road and that, once four horses were safely ensconced inside, the ride would go more smoothly.

  And then the final turn came. Annie made it slowly and carefully. She felt Marcus’s eyes upon her and turned to him to smile. Even this effort caused a small quiver in her lips. Buck up, Annie, she sternly told herself. It’ll all be over soon.

  She looked ahead for the electric gate, and there, in front of her, was Maria, lounging by the tailgate of her battered green pickup. Annie had never been so happy to see her as now. With renewed hope for a speedy load-and-go, she pulled up alongside the Toyota and leaned out the window.

  “Ready?” Maria said only the one word, but Annie knew all that one word encompassed.

  “Ready.”

  “Then let’s get the show on the road.”

  Maria punched in the code, and the electric door slowly swung open. Annie entered and parked her truck where she had the first time, under the line of alders that acted as a wind barrier and paralleled the main paddock—a paddock, Annie reminded herself, that offered no s
hade or shelter to the animals inside.

  “I’ll have to deal with Myrna first,” Annie explained to Marcus after she’d turned off the engine. “I still owe her money for the quote-extended board-unquote.”

  “I don’t suppose you could negotiate an even trade, seeing as how you took care of her horses for a couple of days?”

  “Fat chance.”

  “I’m sure you’re right. Wolf and I will stay here if you don’t mind. You don’t need any more people to stir the pot, and I know you’re anxious to get this portion done.”

  How true, Annie thought, although she felt a tinge of disappointment that Marcus had chosen not to join her in her last dealing with the feedlot owner, particularly since he knew that Myrna had shrilly and quite publicly accused Annie of killing her husband, and was still high on her own suspect list.

  She got out of the truck and saw Marcus immediately pull his cell phone out to make another business call. It flashed through her mind that Marcus might have reached his saturation level for Annie’s life, the one that revolved around horses. His dead wife had been just as besotted with equines, although in a different sort of way, and look what had happened to that marriage. Hilda and Marcus had ended up living nearly a thousand miles apart and had been on the verge of divorcing when she was murdered.

  But this was no time to worry about the state of their relationship, or why Marcus was so preoccupied with business right now. She had four horses to load and another sale to negotiate. There was no way Annie was going to leave the skinny Thoroughbred in Myrna’s care a minute longer than was necessary.

  She gave a quick nod to Marcus and walked over to Maria, who was waiting for her by her own truck.

  “Where’s Myrna?” she asked.

  Maria pointed down the aisle that divided the sick horses from the rest of the feedlot herd.

  “She’s somewhere back in there. I suggest we stay put and let her approach us.”

  “Where are the horses?” Annie felt anxiety tugging at her and knew she would not be at ease until she knew for certain that the four horses were still here and ready to travel.