Reining in Murder

by Leigh Hearon

  “Señor Todos.”

  Dan strode up to the barn manager and stuck out his hand. Todos took it with about as much enthusiasm as he’d taken Annie’s a few days earlier.

  “This must be quite a shock for you,” Dan said.

  Todos let a long stream of spit out of the side of his mouth and said nothing.

  “Mind if we talk somewhere where it’s quieter?”

  Todos barked out a rapid-fire stream of orders in Spanish to the nearby worker, then turned back to Dan.

  “We can meet in the tack room.”

  Annie trailed in behind Dan and Todos, trying to look as inconspicuous as possible. The two men sat down at a round table, scattered with dressage magazines, while Annie feigned interest in the blue ribbons and photos on the wall. Dan gave her a pointed look and nodded toward the door. Annie meekly went out just in time to hear the door shut firmly behind her.

  Next to the tack room was a bathroom twice the size of Annie’s at home. She discovered that if she opened a small bathroom window and crouched on the toilet seat beneath it, she could hear most of what was being said.

  “Let’s start with a few basic questions, shall we?”

  Over the next twenty minutes, Annie learned that Todos had come from Mexico City to the Olympic Peninsula about six months ago. He’d heard that Señora Colbert was looking for a new manager and was hired on the spot. Todos had worked at racetracks since he was eight years old, first as a groom, then as a jockey. When he grew too tall for that role, he decided it was time to ply his skills in a country where he could make decent money in the horse trade. He was now twenty-four. He had come with superlative professional references. In fact, he was the best in the business when it came to training and riding thoroughbreds. It was common knowledge.

  Annie noticed that Dan pointedly had not asked about Todos’s green card status. Nice of him. Too nice, she thought. Todos continued.

  Señora Colbert was very demanding, but then, so was he. Within a month, he and Señora Colbert had fired the entire work crew and hired new personnel—although, Todos implied, even this crew was barely functional and probably wouldn’t have lasted much longer. When Todos wasn’t bossing the crew, he was exercising the horses and managing Señora Colbert’s eventing schedule. He often accompanied her on exhibition trips. She was a good rider, yes, but had a lot to learn. Todos implied that if she had used him, instead of her expensive trainers, she would have many more ribbons adorning her tack room and arena walls.

  Señora Colbert was a very private woman. No one was allowed up at her house, even if one of the horses had fallen lame or ill. All communication had to be done by phone. Even Todos had never been as far as the front door. The one time that a worker had gone to Señora Colbert’s home, he had been immediately sacked. This was before Todos’s time. Workers from other ranches still talked about it.

  It was not uncommon for Señora Colbert to visit her horses often. On the other hand, it was not uncommon for her to stay away for days at a time. No, Todos did not know what she did outside of the horse business. She seldom left the premises, and when she did, she took her Land Rover.

  Every Monday morning, he and Señora Colbert met in Señora Colbert’s office in the stables and decided what needed to be done in the week ahead. Unless Señora Colbert came to the stables to watch him exercise, or ask for one of the horses to be saddled for her own use, he had no reason to talk to her.

  The last time he saw Señora Colbert was two days ago, after he’d returned from Annie’s. He’d reported that the horse seemed to be sound although he suggested having Señora Colbert’s sports-medicine vet evaluate the work done on the bay’s mouth. He did not trust the job that “the woman” had done.

  Señora Colbert said that she would contact Annie herself and let him know when the bay would be transported to her stables. She implied that it would be soon. When he didn’t hear from her, he was surprised but not alarmed. Señora Colbert was a fine businesswoman, but, after all, she was a woman. She might have changed her mind about when she wanted the bay moved for no reason at all.

  He had met Señor Colbert only once, and judging by Todos’s tone of voice, he was not impressed with what he’d seen. Marcus Colbert worked in California and only came home a few weekends a month. He never talked to the man—what would he have to say to him? He knew nothing about horses. Nothing. And he disliked his wife living apart from him very much. He had heard loud arguments before in the arena.

  “Arguments, you say? Did you witness these arguments? Hear any sounds of violence?” asked Dan.

  Annie strained to hear the answer, but all she could glean from the other room was silence, for what seemed an excruciatingly long time. Finally, she heard Todos clear his throat. He had not actually seen Señor and Señora Colbert fighting, he told Dan. It was not his place to watch such things. But he had heard plenty of shouting, always about the horses. Señora Colbert would not obey her husband and return to California. And there was nothing Señor Colbert could do to change her mind.

  Well, I’ll give you that much for common sense, Annie silently told the dead woman.

  As far as violence, well, it was possible. Once, when the husband was visiting, Todos had seen Señora Colbert with a badly bruised arm. But she said she had fallen off a horse and who was he to question? He also once had seen Señor Colbert with a black eye, but no explanation was given. Todos was certain it did not come from a horse. Señor Colbert would not know how to even mount a horse.

  Even with a wall separating her, Annie could hear the sneer in Todos’s voice. The clear implication was that Marcus probably didn’t know how to mount anything, including his wife.

  “Señor Todos,” said Dan, “you’re been very helpful and extremely thorough. And I know you’ve got a lot to do now that Mrs. Colbert is . . . well, is gone.”

  Dan was laying it on a bit thick, Annie thought.

  “It make no difference,” Todos said carelessly. “We do the work.”

  Annie heard Dan clear his throat. “Well, I know that. But I do have to ask you, Señor Todos, what you were doing from the time you last talked to Señora Colbert on Monday until four o’clock today, two days later.”

  “Oh, you need the alibi? Señora Colbert requires only the best hay for her animals. There is no such hay made here, and we have enough for only a week more. So I call a ranch in Eastern Washington and secure a load. Then I drive up to get it.”

  “When did you leave?”

  “Tuesday morning. I get the hay, spend the night in a motel, and come back today.”

  From inside the bathroom, Annie involuntarily hooted in disbelief. Tuesday morning! She’d waited from six o’clock Tuesday morning until she’d locked the barn for the night for Todos to arrive. And Hilda didn’t even have the decency to call to let me know, she thought. Some people have all the nerve.

  Annie felt a sharp pang of remorse. Had the nerve. Some people were dead. Come to think of it, the last time Hilda probably had seen her horses was when she was ordering Todos to hit the road for hay. Hilda wasn’t going to see her beautiful beasts again. Now there was a fate worse than death.

  Annie heard the tack room door open. She quickly flushed the toilet and came outside.

  “Annie!”

  She walked up to Dan, straightening her clothes.

  “Now that you’re done listening in private, why don’t you come in and join the party?”

  Annie was happy to comply. Once they were seated at the table, Dan resumed his questions.

  “Do you know how to reach Señor Colbert?” Dan asked Todos.

  Todos tossed his head toward a printed phone list beside the tack room phone.

  “He may be on the list. I never noticed.”

  “Well, that’s that, I guess. I’ll let you get back to your work.”

  Todos silently up and walked toward the door, making a point, Annie thought, of not looking at either her or Dan. Maybe he was an undocumented guy. If that was so, she couldn’t blame
him for wanting to say as little as possible.

  “Oh, one more thing.”

  Todos slowly turned.

  “Did Señora Colbert have any enemies? Anyone you know who might want to wish her harm?”

  Todos allowed a small smile to touch his lips.

  “Señora Colbert was, how you say, not a friendly person. She don’t have enemies, but . . . she don’t have friends.”

  Todos turned to leave.

  “And one more thing,” said Dan. “I’ll need proof that you got that hay and spent the night in Eastern Washington. When you have time, of course.”

  Todos smiled again. Annie wondered if he was ever capable of injecting even a modicum of warmth into the act.

  “No problemo. You can see for yourself, right now.”

  Todos pulled a crumpled motel bill and receipt for hay out of a pocket of his jeans. He handed them over to Dan, who looked at them and carefully placed both in a folder.

  “Right. Thank you, Señor Todos. I’ll let you go now. Take my card. If you think of anything, you’ll let me know, won’t you?”

  “Of course.” Todos vanished.

  “You didn’t read him his rights,” Annie said.

  “Didn’t need to. We’ll check out his alibi, of course, but it seems pretty straightforward. Now I want to talk to the husband.”

  Marcus Colbert was second to the last on the phone list—just above the local plumber. Dan jotted down the phone numbers, then looked at Annie.

  “I hate doing this,” he said.

  “I’ll bet you do. That’s why you get paid the big bucks.”

  Dan snorted and picked up the tack room phone. He called the first number listed for Mr. Colbert. A receptionist answered. Mr. Colbert was not in. Dan thanked her and said he’d try his cell.

  Hilda’s husband picked up on the first ring with an abrupt “Colbert” loud enough for even Annie to hear. Dan cleared his throat and plunged in.

  “Mr. Colbert, this is Dan Stetson, sheriff of Suwana County. I’m afraid I have bad news for you.”

  As Annie listened to Dan flailing around for the right words to say, she realized there were no right words. How do you tell someone that his spouse has been brutally murdered?

  All Annie could hear were Dan’s responses, which sounded positively pathetic judging by the number of questions Mr. Colbert was spewing.

  “Mr. Colbert, I know this is a tough thing for you to swallow right now. I’ll keep you informed of our progress every step of the way. Right now, it doesn’t look like there will be any until tomorrow, when we expect to get the results from the autopsy. And the reports from our evidence technicians.”

  “Ask HIM questions. You’re getting murdered,” she hissed at Dan.

  Dan threw a pained look at Annie. He cleared his throat.

  “But I need to know from you now: Did your wife have any enemies? Anyone who might want to hurt her?”

  Another inaudible diatribe issued from the phone line. Annie impatiently tapped on Dan’s shoulder.

  “Ask him about the horse! Did he know about the accident?”

  Dan put his hand over the mouthpiece and whispered back, “Why in the Sam Hill would I ask him that, Annie?”

  “Hey, you’re the one looking for suspects! If he knows about the hauler’s murder, maybe he’s connected to Hilda’s murder, too!”

  Dan rolled his eyes but asked, “Mr. Colbert, are you aware that your wife recently purchased a thoroughbred?”

  This time, Dan held the phone at a cocked angle, so Annie could hear the response.

  “Sheriff, if I kept track of every time my wife bought a new horse, I’d have nothing else to do with my time. If she did, it doesn’t surprise me. Why are you asking?”

  “Only because one of our local horse rescuers has been taking care of your wife’s new thoroughbred for the past few days. The hauler had an accident on the way to your wife’s farm three days ago, and the horse was injured.”

  Annie noticed that Dan adroitly avoided the news of the hauler’s death.

  “Well, I’m sorry to hear that. Is the horse going to be all right?”

  “Why don’t I let Annie Carson, the woman who’s been tending to the horse, tell you herself?”

  Dan thrust the phone into Annie’s hands.

  “Mr. Colbert. I’m terribly sorry to hear about your recent loss. Rest assured that your wife’s horse is now in excellent health, and in fact, is here at the stables as we speak.”

  “Ms. Carson, I wish I could tell you that I really cared about my late wife’s most recent acquisition, but truly, I don’t. The one time I rode a horse, it tried to buck me off, and I really don’t even like to be close to the beasts. But I’m grateful to you for caring for the animal. Tell me—were you friends with my wife? She knew so few people in the community, it seemed.”

  For a recent widower, Annie thought, he certainly is taking the loss of his wife well. Maybe too well. Then again, maybe losing Hilda is like losing a painful bunion. Annie swallowed hard and crossed her fingers. “To be truthful, Mr. Colbert, we were only passing acquaintances. But I know that everyone who lives here greatly admired her facility and . . . and the magnificent hunters and jumpers she kept here.”

  There was a sigh on the other end of the phone.

  “Ms. Carson, I appreciate your praise, but can’t help but note it has nothing to do with my wife’s personality. I know she was hard to get along with at times. She was a tough nut to crack, and believe me, I know it better than anyone. So I thank you doubly for caring for the horse. Would you mind terribly continuing until I get there?”

  This would not be a good time to bring up the issue of the unpaid bill, Annie thought. And what could she say? She might as well continue to care for the bay until the issue of compensation had been resolved.

  “I’d be happy to, Mr. Colbert,” she said, and handed the phone back to Dan.

  “Mr. Colbert, we’re trying to trace some of the more recent phone calls made to your wife. You wouldn’t know, by chance, the password to her home phone? Her birth date? Eight-six-seven-zero. Thank you so very much, Mr. Colbert. That helps us a lot. Otherwise, we’d have to do a lot of paperwork to get this information. When will you be flying up, sir?”

  Annie winced as Dan signed off. It seemed she was doomed to have her messages to Hilda broadcast to the world, whether she liked it or not.

  Dan turned to her.

  “Can you believe the stupidity of some people? The password is Hilda’s birthday.”

  “I heard.” If Annie hadn’t still had a 1990s model phone with a built-in answering machine, she probably would have used her birth date as a password, too.

  It was now close to five. The evidence team had finally packed up and left. Annie suspected that Hilda’s body had arrived at the medical examiner’s office and was already being prepared for a thorough dissection. Dan called Esther to cancel the search warrant. Even Annie noticed that Esther seemed disappointed. Esther did perk up when Dan asked her to arrange for a Spanish interpreter for the next day; he intended to interview all of Hilda’s other workers tomorrow, starting at eight in the morning.

  Kim Williams was the only deputy left on the scene. She, Dan, and Annie returned to Hilda’s residence to listen to her voice mails.

  Kim got out her digital recorder and gave the okay to Dan to start playing the messages.

  Annie kept her head down as the messages started rolling. Sure enough, Annie’s voice was the first to be heard, loud and clear. After her second angry tirade had been publicly aired, she began to squirm in her chair. She thought she heard both Kim and Dan chuckling but didn’t look up to find out.

  But, to her surprise, Annie wasn’t the only one who was being humiliated by the replaying of old messages. It appeared Hilda had been slow to pay her vendors. Interspersed with Annie’s diatribes were increasingly angry rants from tack and feed stores, and one pleading one from a well-known sports equine vet. Annie felt slightly mollified. She certainly didn’t have
Hilda’s wherewithal, but she did pay her bills on time. People in the country counted on that. A check that didn’t arrive on time could mean you didn’t eat, or pay your mortgage that month.

  The machine announced the next call: “Monday, February 25 at 2:16 P.M. Caller unknown.” A man with a deep and cultured voice began to speak. The words he spoke chilled Annie right down to her bones.

  “I will destroy you. You will be a dead woman before you know it. Consider yourself warned.”

  Annie looked up and met Dan’s gaze. The man’s voice was unmistakable. It was Marcus Colbert.

  CHAPTER 7

  THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 25TH

  Annie rested her muck rake on one elbow and picked up her ringing cell phone. Last night, after unloading Trooper and Trotter back in her barn, her first move had been to change her cell ring tone. She’d decided she’d had about as much of Stephen Foster as she could take. The new one sounded as if it came out of an old-fashioned, hand-cranked telephone box.

  “Annie Carson speaking.”

  “Ms. Carson, this is Marcus Colbert.”

  Annie’s throat closed. Nothing like talking to the number one murder suspect of the woman whose body you’d discovered to put a damper on your vocal cords.

  “Ms. Carson? Are you there?”

  “Yes, Mr. Colbert.” Her voice squawked.

  “Call me Marcus. Please.”

  I’ll be calling you by your inmate number soon, Annie thought, but politely replied, “How are you?”

  “I’m about as well as can be expected, I guess.” A long sigh emanated from the other end of the line. “I hope you don’t mind, but I got your number from Mr. Todos, Hilda’s barn manager. I’m at the San Jose Airport, waiting to board a plane. I should be arriving in your area around eight tonight. I wondered if I could stop by for a moment before I head out to the ranch.”

  “Why?” Annie blurted out the question before she could think.