A Secondhand Murder

by Lesley A. Diehl

  “Told ya. Women and horses. Got to get rough with them.”

  Eduardo turned his reptilian eyes on Spelling.

  “Sorry, boss.” Spelling said. He seemed to retreat into himself, shrinking beneath Eduardo’s cold gaze. Now there were two small men with large guns.

  “Search her,” Eduardo said.

  Spelling leered at me. “Sure thing. My pleasure.” He gave his weapon to Eduardo. His hands patted and fondled my body, then he dumped out my purse and looked through it. “Nothing here.”

  Eduardo narrowed his eyes. “I don’t care, you understand, but my wife wants that locket you promised her.” He sighed again as if bored with this game of hide-the-prize. “Where is it?”

  “Tell him,” said Rob. “Then we can get out of here.”

  Eduardo ran his fingers through his dark hair and shook his head.

  “I don’t think so.” He signaled to Spelling, who dragged Carlos out of the feed room.

  “I’m sorry, Señora.”

  “One of my more loyal stable boys found him using a cell phone. He was trying to contact your friends, Ms. Appel.”

  “Oh, that’s funny,” said Spelling.

  Eduardo shot him another look of contempt.

  “Sorry, Boss.”

  “According to my stable boy, this one,” Eduardo looked at Carlos, “took Eve here to get a glimpse of what Dr. Phillips was doing to the mare. That’s not something I’d like to get around.”

  Eduardo turned his back on us and walked a few steps away, then turned. His shoulders heaved in yet another one of his exaggerated sighs. His voice was soft, low and controlled, as if he were lecturing schoolchildren.

  “You see, Ms. Appel, I’m surrounded by idiots who all think they have the right to say whatever pops into their heads. Not just the women.” His eyes were hard. “No, the men, too. Stable attendants, my manager.”

  Spelling opened his mouth to speak but closed it quickly.

  Eduardo flicked the riding crop he carried against his leg. His eyes darkened. When he spoke, the control was gone.

  “Talking! All this talking. I need silence and I’m going to get it.” He struck the crop again and again on the palm of his hand. The sound echoed throughout the barn’s interior and it sounded like a whipping was taking place. My arms ached from holding them on my head, and the pain moved down into my neck and back as if each stroke of the crop had landed on my flesh.

  No one spoke.

  “Ms. Appel?” Eduardo said.

  “You want me to say something? Why should I when you’re only going to kill us anyway?”

  “Yes, but it’s how I do it that should concern you.”

  “Don’t worry about us, Eve,” said Rob.

  Eduardo gave the king of all sighs. “Yes, yes. You must worry about her.” Eduardo went into one of the empty stables and pulled out a bound and gagged Madeleine, her eyes wide with terror.

  “That’s why you didn’t answer your phone.” My tone sounded accusing. I didn’t mean it to be, but fear was making me babble while I tried to think of a plan of escape.

  “I’m sure your other friends are similarly occupied. Eh?” Eduardo looked at Spelling and Randolph meaningfully, but neither man would raise his eyes to Eduardo’s. Did that mean one of them hadn’t completed his job? My heart thudded with hope.

  “You can’t kill off the entire population of Sabal Bay just because you think I know something about how you run your pony business.”

  “I can’t be bothered with what you and your friends know or don’t know. I’m a busy man.” He flapped his hand in a dismissive gesture. “Take care of them. I’m going home to my wife. Just make certain you find that locket. Use whatever persuasive techniques you deem necessary.”

  Dr. Phillips walked in. “Can I help? Maybe she has it hidden where we hide the cocaine on the horses. I could look for it.” The suggestion made me quiver with loathing and terror.

  “Whatever. Just find it.” Eduardo walked out the barn door without a backward glance. I saw someone else join him at his car. The personal secretary, the dark woman I’d seen standing next to him at the funeral. She reached up to him, throwing her arms around his neck. He detached himself from her embrace and opened the passenger door. She hesitated a moment, then lowered her head in a gesture of submission and got into the car. Eduardo sure had a way with women.

  Spelling’s voice drew my attention from the car back to the barn. “I already searched her.”

  “Not as thoroughly as I can,” said Phillips.

  “I think we should tie up our cowboy friends. Then we can work on the little one with the red hair. Go get some rope.” With Eduardo gone, Spelling assumed command.

  “I don’t run errands for you,” said the vet. “There’s rope in the feed room.” To Randolph, Phillips said, “Surely you’re good for more than just standing there looking like an armed elf.”

  “I’m your boss. You wouldn’t even have a job if I hadn’t pulled those strings that allowed you to keep your license. That horse doping charge in Kentucky wasn’t easily covered up, you know.”

  “If I leave, who’s gonna do your ponies for you?”

  Phillips took the gun from Randolph’s hand and assumed the other man’s position, his back up against the stall where the feisty mare was located. His movement caught her eye and his smell unsettled her. She began circling her stall nervously. Keeping his eyes on us, he ignored the mare’s frantic head twitching and the pawing of her hooves on the straw. She was growing more disturbed. He must have heard her agitated snorts.

  “Maybe I should throw your little friend in there and let the horse take care of her.” He approached the stall and banged his foot against the boards, a cruel smile on his face. The horse whinnied and tossed her head, her eyes white with fear. She shied away from the noise, pushing herself up against the back of the stall; then, whirling around, she rushed forward. In a split second, she had reared up and brought her hooves down on the top rail of the stall, startling Phillips. He whirled about as she reared again, hooves careening toward his head. He jumped to one side, her hooves missing him by inches. The hand holding the gun came up and fired, but the bullet missed its target.

  Spelling pointed his gun first at us, then at the horse, but it was too late, he had dropped his guard. Rob and Antoine jumped him. Spelling’s gun flew through the air and landed at Randolph’s feet. He reached down to grab it, but I kicked it away.

  Now only the vet was armed. Phillips, pointing his gun steadily in our direction, stepped away from the stall and motioned us to take his place. The horse continued to rear, twist, and turn, her anxiety intensified by the sound of the shot and Phillips’ aggressive posturing. Unbeknownst to Phillips—while Spelling and Randolph tried to locate the other gun on the barn’s sawdust floor—I shoved the wooden slide that secured the stall door. The horse seemed to sense my intentions. She held back for a moment then rushed the opening, ramming through it and knocking Phillips down. I grabbed his gun. Antoine, Rob, and I stepped out of the angry mare’s way as she reared, striking Phillips on the head. She raced toward Spelling and Randolph, who ran for the feed room. Phillips lay on the barn floor, not moving.

  “Is he dead?” I asked.

  Rob felt for a pulse. “No, but he’s got quite a cut on his forehead. He might be out for a while. It’s a wonder she didn’t kill him.”

  “I would have,” I said. The man disgusted me.

  Carlos ran after the mare, who slowed at the sound of his voice. She nickered to one of her mates in an end stall. He grabbed her bridle and gentled her with soothing words and comforting pats.

  Antoine and Rob dragged Spelling and Randolph out of the feed room. Randolph began a litany of denials.

  “I was only trying to help poor Constance get back her family’s riches. I thought Dr. Phillips deserved another chance. He’s a fine horse man.”

  I was untying Madeleine and getting her to her feet when I overheard Randolph and I couldn’t resist commenting on
his lies.

  “Randy boy, you are so full of it.”

  “No, no, it’s true. I thought Phillips was giving the horses enemas after the long trip at sea.”

  I laughed. “You truly are a horse’s ass. Enemas. How stupid are you?”

  “Well, douches, then,” he replied.

  “With his fists?”

  Then began the pointing of fingers, as Spelling and Randolph blamed each other for the entire illegal operation. I found it interesting that neither said anything about Eduardo, but then again, he was still free and who knew what damage he could do to the two of them. Once he was behind bars, they might open up.

  Several minutes later, Frida appeared in the barn accompanied by her partner and several officers from the West Palm County Sheriff’s office. Soon after, my gang arrived. I was relieved to see that they hadn’t been harmed.

  Apparently, when Madeleine learned about our plan from Jerry, she begged to tag along. Why he had to tell her, I don’t know. They had stopped by her place only to find her missing, so they went to my house, assuming she’d be there with me. When they saw my house was empty as well, they headed for the barns.

  An ambulance carted Phillips off to the hospital. Randolph and Spelling were taken into custody and, because of the international drug smuggling component of the case, Frida notified the federal authorities. They would be waiting for their prisoners in West Palm.

  “Who gets to arrest Eduardo?” I asked.

  “The Feds,” said Frida.

  “Do you think they’ll take Constance into custody, too?”

  “Maybe. We’ll have to see what they do. I suspect that, between Eduardo’s connections and his money, he’ll bond out within twenty-four hours. The same goes for his wife, if she’s arrested.”

  I had twenty-four hours. That was good. This time I would work alone. I didn’t want to get my friends involved in the mess.

  I rode home in the back of Nappi’s SUV, flanked by Madeline and Alex. It felt like a repeat of our ride up from the Keys earlier this morning. Had it only been this morning? It felt like days ago. The three of us were in the backseat, with Jerry and Nappi in the front. Nappi drove.

  I looked at my watch.

  “Why do you keep checking the time. Something up?” There was suspicion in Alex’s tone.

  “I can’t believe it’s been less than twenty-four hours since we drove back from the Keys. I didn’t sleep well, and I’m beat. I need to hit the hay.”

  Nappi laughed. “Got horses on your mind?”

  I nodded. “I’m glad they’re going to be all right. That horrible Phillips.” I hadn’t shared with Alex, Jerry, or Nappi the details of how Phillips had intended to find the locket. They didn’t need to know. Madeleine and I exchanged glances. I could trust her to keep silent. I was worried that they would counter violence with violence, and that was the last thing I wanted right now.

  Alex tightened his arm around my shoulder. “I thought that maybe we could spend some time together, but I can see that this isn’t a good time.”

  I reached up and patted his cheek. “Thanks, sweetie.”

  Alex walked me to my door and gave me a long, lingering kiss goodnight. My toes curled with passion and I almost gave in to my desire to invite him inside. But I was so damned tired that I’d probably fall asleep mid-foreplay. Plus, I had a previous engagement.

  Once in the house, I stripped off my clothes, which smelled like hay, horse manure and fear, and stepped into a hot shower, lathering twice to remove the evening’s horrors. Before I had a chance to really relax in the warm water, I turned the faucet to cold to wake myself up. A quick cup of coffee and I jumped into my rental. I had an appointment back at Eduardo’s stables.

  My drive to the ranch gave me a little time to think about what I was doing. I was certain I didn’t want to involve any of my friends. Look at what happened to Grandy. Perhaps that wasn’t directly my fault, but if I hadn’t moved to Florida, Valerie wouldn’t have been killed in my shop. The family’s attention might have been diverted to other pursuits, such as reclaiming their lost money and drowning their financial woes in high-end shopping and maxed-out credit cards. They might have been too busy to remember the old family locket.

  However, they probably wouldn’t have been too busy to import horses with dope up their you-know-whats. I guess my nosiness had done some good. It had also almost got my friends killed. That’s why I had given the cowboys and the gang the night off. I was after a killer.

  I turned off the pavement onto the county road, then looked for the driveway leading to the ranch. Damn, it was dark out here with no lights. Okay, no friends, but was it smart of me to go meet a dead man? Or, rather, someone who was supposed to be dead?

  Chapter 28

  Eve, I told myself as I climbed over the closed gate leading to the ranch, you’re quite safe now that Eduardo, Randolph and Constance are in jail. I rued the decision to wear my signature stiletto heels as I slid from the top rail onto the drive. This wasn’t a social occasion. It was simply a meeting with a dweeby little man who might have a lead on a killer.

  I shivered a little at the thought of returning to this place. But who was left to bother me? Not Leon, Dwight’s father. He’d called the cops and claimed that he had been mistaken about Jerry being my kidnapper. That was a good faith gesture, right?

  One thing at a time. I had taken care of the locket issues earlier this evening. The people who were supposed to show for that wouldn’t be out of jail until tomorrow, if ever. Now I had to consider Valerie’s murderer. That meant my midnight meeting with Dwight. Why me? Because, as with Carlos, Dwight trusted me. Only me. Was it my compassionate nature or the generosity of my character? I shook my head. No. It had to be my tenacious and overbearing personality. Paired with my height.

  I looked up at the moon, bright enough now to illuminate the way to the barns, but I heard thunder in the distance and knew that soon I wouldn’t be able to count on lunar light to guide me. Besides, once inside the barns, I’d need a flashlight. I patted my pocket to reassure myself that it was still there.

  The only person I expected to see was Dwight. Was I crazy to believe that little weasel? Maybe. Someone had tried to kill him, and I thought I knew why.

  He had been standing by Valerie’s car on the day of the murder and he must have seen something, something he had later decided to make the murderer pay for. Leon must have known that Dwight was in danger and that he would be safer if thought dead. Did Leon know who was gunning for his son?

  The killer had to be Eduardo. If Dwight didn’t already know that Eduardo was in jail, I wanted to tell him, so that he’d go to the authorities and tell them his story. Valerie must have found out about her son-in-law’s drug dealings. That would have been motivation enough for him to remove her. So he stabbed her in my shop.

  That sounded right. Now all I had to do was get Dwight to talk. Eduardo and associates would be in jail for more than drug trafficking. I still couldn’t figure out the logistics of the stabbing, though. Well, that was up to the police.

  I walked into the first barn, using the flashlight to find my way. All the horses were gone, removed by the authorities earlier tonight. Only the smell of manure, feed, straw and hay remained. I passed through the darkened stable and out into the night. Clouds rode across the moon, forcing me to rely on my flashlight as I headed toward the second barn. The same emptiness there. No horses. No stable boys. I strode through the barn to the other end, pausing in front of the spot where, earlier, a horse had saved our lives. On impulse, I climbed over the wooden rails and leaned into the now deserted stall as if I could somehow capture the essence of the horse that had saved us.

  A hand grabbed my leg. Startled, I lurched backwards and dropped my flashlight.

  “Come down from there. You’re already tall enough. I don’t need to be talking to a giant.”

  “You scared the hell out of me, Dwight. Now I’ve dropped my light.”

  “What’s going on? By the ti
me I got here around eleven, all the horses were gone and everyone else, too.”

  I told him about the drugs and the pending arrests. “I guess that should make you feel safer, huh?”

  “Eduardo will bail out by tomorrow morning, if he hasn’t already. I need to get out of here and go someplace where he can’t find me.”

  “You need to talk to the police. You could put him behind bars for a long time. Then you’d be safe.”

  Dwight gave a snort of disbelief. “He’s got a long arm. He could easily leave the country and then send some of his goons to have at me. Again.”

  “Eduardo doesn’t seem like the type to tolerate blackmail. You saw something the day of Valerie’s murder. Instead of coming forth, you decided to make some money on the side. I hate to say it, but you brought all this on yourself.”

  “So how did Eduardo manage it?” I went on. “I mean, how did he get into my shop to kill Valerie? I can’t figure it.” Maybe if I got Dwight talking about what he had seen, he’d find it easier to repeat the story to the authorities. “Did he disguise himself as a woman? Use someone else to do the stabbing?” I was pushing him, but I had to know.

  “Eduardo? I didn’t see him there,” said Dwight.

  The moon came out from behind the clouds and lighted the entrance to the stable well enough for me to see his face. I didn’t like what I saw.

  “I thought you were a lot smarter than that.” Dwight seemed disappointed.

  “Me too, but then again, she’s just the granddaughter of a maid,” said a voice from behind me.

  “Constance. What are you doing here? I thought you’d be in jail.”

  “No jail for me, the suffering little wife of the foreigner involved in drugs. We have unfinished business, you and I. So, after the arrest, I went to your house. You were just leaving. I followed. As for the drug thing, what did I know about it? Of course, I’ll stand by my husband when he gets out. Our lawyer will take care of everything.”