Runaway Murder

by Leigh Hearon

  Lucy’s countenance turned bright red from her neck to her forehead. As she stammered out her thanks, Annie realized another would-be paramour of Marcus Colbert likely had just blossomed into being. It really was getting a bit tiresome.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  SUNDAY NOON—EARLY AFTERNOON, OCTOBER 15

  Gwendolyn and Nicole were still nowhere in sight, but now that Marcus had arrived, their whereabouts seemed of secondary importance to Annie. After all, where could they go? Both were scheduled to ride this afternoon, and Annie was sure neither woman would willingly give up her opportunity to shine. Besides, it was time for lunch.

  Chef Gustav had once again created a feast. Every square inch of the buffet table by the back wall was laden with food, and people eagerly began to build their lunch on the china plates set out for them. Annie was among the foragers but not so far entrenched in the crowd that she couldn’t hear Marcus and Hollis talking in the background.

  “I can’t remember when our paths last crossed,” she heard Hollis tell Marcus, “but I’m awfully glad they have now. How have you been?”

  “Fine, fine. In survival mode the first half of the year, but now that I’ve met Annie, life has been much better.”

  “Of course. How remiss of me. Miriam and I were so sorry to hear about Hilda. And your troubles, too.”

  “Hilda’s death was a terrible shock. But all that’s behind me now, and I’m happy about the way the future is shaping up.”

  “Well, we’ve thoroughly enjoyed getting to know Annie and hope we’ll see more of both of you now that we’re all reacquainted. Shall we join the others at the groaning board?”

  Annie smiled as she forked a piece of melon draped with prosciutto onto her plate. She sat down by Amy and Lucy, placed her napkin on the empty seat beside her for Marcus, and began to dig in. She noted Amy was eating very lightly. Her time to ride was fast approaching, and Annie wasn’t surprised at her lack of appetite. In comparison, Lucy was devouring everything on her plate. But this was after she’d rubbed down Prince and given him a flake of alfalfa in his stall. Not to mention several kisses.

  Annie looked across the room for Marcus and saw Gwendolyn and Nicole at the door. Of course, they would choose to make their entrance at the most opportune time, when nearly everyone was seated and they had a captive audience.

  Their clothing reflected the epitome of dressage elegance. Both had shunned the traditional jackets Liz and Lucy had worn in the ring. Nicole had opted for cutaway tails, as well as immaculate white breeches and a stock tie. Gwendolyn was sporting a very short jacket with slit pockets and had what looked like flat nacre pearl buttons down the front. Nicole’s helmet nearly lit up the room with its multicolored bling. Gwen’s looked like a glittering black moon crater. While Nicole stood back, the better to show off her stunning attire, Gwendolyn rushed to Marcus, flinging her arms around his neck.

  “Marcus! When did you arrive? I wasn’t sure you were coming!”

  If everyone hadn’t known better, they might have thought Gwendolyn was Marcus’s main squeeze. It certainly looked that way. But everyone had seen Annie’s exuberant embrace of the same man a few minutes ago, which had been fully reciprocated. Annie knew she was not the only person who was slightly embarrassed by Gwendolyn’s very public display of affection.

  Marcus obviously felt the same way. He carefully unwrapped Gwendolyn’s arms and held them gently at her side, as if he was afraid they would spring up again if he let them go.

  “How nice to see you, Gwen,” he said pleasantly. “Are you riding this afternoon?”

  “You know I am,” Gwendolyn replied warmly. “Remember, I told you all about it at your mother’s just a few days ago.”

  “Ah, yes. I remember you mentioning an upcoming show. I look forward to seeing you in the ring. Have you eaten? I was just about to get some food.”

  “So, when did you get here, you sly thing? I suppose you drove down in the Spyder.”

  It occurred to Annie that she had no idea what kind of car—or cars, when it came to it—Marcus owned. She’d only seen him in rental vehicles when he had been visiting her.

  Marcus smiled but didn’t answer. Somehow, he managed to slip by Gwendolyn, quickly fill his plate, and slide into the seat waiting for him in remarkably short time. Annie never failed to marvel at the dexterity of such a big, tall guy.

  “That was a close call,” she murmured to him as he sat down.

  Patricia nodded from where she sat on the other side of the table. “A bit too close for comfort.”

  Marcus smiled again and raised his glass. “Wonderful to see all of you again in sunny California. Have you tried the prawns, Annie? I’m happy to share what I have on my plate. You seem to have done a good job demolishing yours already.”

  Gwendolyn did not hide her displeasure well. Out of the corner of her eye, Annie saw Gwendolyn eyeing their table, no doubt wondering if she should barge over and take the last seat. To Annie’s relief, she swept by Annie and Marcus and sat down with Miriam and Hollis, who were eating alone. Since the couple appeared to be enjoying a private meal, Annie wasn’t sure why Gwendolyn thought she’d be welcome there. But Annie didn’t dwell on it. Not when Marcus was beside her and keeping her and the rest of the table laughing about all his previous encounters with horses.

  “We’ll make a rider out of you yet,” Patricia told him. She was very fond of Marcus, in a strictly professional way, of course. For a man who barely knew one end of the horse from another, he’d invested thousands and thousands of dollars to ensure the health and continued well-being of a very large herd.

  “Perhaps,” Marcus replied thoughtfully. “When pigs fly.”

  The table erupted into laughter once more, and Annie watched Gwendolyn’s head snap around in anger. She hoped she’d seen the last of Gwendolyn’s flirty ploys. She certainly did not want her ersatz rival’s behavior to escalate.

  At Annie’s suggestion, she and Marcus agreed to sit with the rest of the spectators; it was the safest place to keep him away from Gwendolyn, who should be prepping for her ride in any case.

  “I have to leave you for a few moments,” she told him once they were seated. “But not for long. Here, take the day sheet. It’ll show you the order of riders. Three are guests from the house, starting with Amy, then Tabitha, and after a few others, Gwendolyn.”

  He nodded and held the sheet upside down, squinting at it as if it made more sense this way. How droll. She turned the paper around properly and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before leaving.

  Finding Deputy Collins in the crowd was something of a challenge now that he wasn’t in his usual khaki uniform. She finally spotted him near the judge’s booth, talking to Brianna. She would not be happy if he was treating the technical delegate as a suspect and slowed down to see if she could hear any of their conversation. Not for one moment did Annie believe Brianna was responsible for Judge Bennett’s death, despite the incriminating words that had flown out of her mouth when she’d learned the news.

  But no, Deputy Collins was only talking about security details. She could tell by the way Brianna responded and pointed to various eaves under the stable roof. Brianna’s reply to his last question was audible as she walked toward them.

  “We’re all ready for you. The barn manager has promised to have today’s surveillance put on a thumb drive and on her desk by five o’clock for you. The videographer’s also agreed to give you a copy of everything he films today. Although he’s not too happy that he has to hand it over without his usual compensation.”

  Deputy Collins grinned. “I’ll talk to him and remind him how much we appreciate assistance from civilians.”

  “I’m not sure ‘the heartfelt thanks of a grateful nation’ ploy will help much,” Brianna replied. “But don’t worry about it. He’s a fixture at all the local shows and makes enough money, anyway.”

  She turned slightly and saw Annie.

  “Hi, Annie. Can I help you with something?”

/>   “Actually, I’m here to talk to Deputy Collins if you can spare him for a few minutes.”

  “Sure. I need to get back to the office, anyway. Everything okay?”

  “And this won’t take long.”

  Brianna nodded and walked off briskly. Deputy Collins locked his very handsome eyes on her.

  “Interesting discovery you made this morning.”

  “I thought so. Have you had a chance to take a look at it?”

  “I have, and it’s being examined for fingerprints and anything else we can find as we speak. But we were expecting to find more than a bunch of thermoses. Hollis thought you might have walked off with the key piece of evidence.”

  As good-looking as Deputy Collins might be, he was beginning to irritate her.

  “I sure as hell wasn’t going to leave ajar of poison sitting there, just so whoever concocted it could come back at her leisure and slip it to another unsuspecting victim.”

  “Your intentions are great. But that’s why we’re here. So, if you find anything, you can tell us, and let us handle it.”

  He was speaking slowly, as if somehow enunciating each word might make his point clearer. All it did was infuriate Annie.

  “I came over to tell you as soon as I could. And to tell you where you can find it. And by the way, I didn’t touch it. I do know a few things about how to handle evidence.”

  “Worked many homicides before?”

  She wanted to tell him yes, three to be precise, and that was just this year. Instead, she ignored his question.

  “It’s in my suitcase, which is now locked and in my bedroom closet. I’m going to watch the next two riders, but then I’ll be happy to take you right to it.”

  “You know, you were taking a big risk handling that jar by yourself. Did it ever occur to you that it might have been a bomb?”

  She curtly turned on her heel and stalked off. Honestly, some people were so touchy about letting other people help. So much for her civilian assistance.

  * * *

  Annie wished she could share with Marcus everything that she knew, although trying to explain how the presence of an old dumbwaiter in the Darcy mansion pertained to the killer’s methodology would be difficult in a very public spectator stand. Particularly if she had to avoid using certain words such as killer, poison, and next intended victim. She decided to wait until the next short break to bring him up to speed. She knew that Marcus would much prefer to hear it all now than watch the dressage show. But the next two riders were both people she really wanted to see perform. She returned to the spectator section and climbed up to join him. Marcus looked at her curiously.

  “Who was that man you were talking to?”

  “A stuck-up cop who doesn’t appreciate my help.”

  Marcus laughed. “I thought he was asking you for a date.”

  “Him? I’d rather eat ground glass.”

  “Whew. For a moment I thought I had a rival.”

  “Unfortunately, I have to deal with him again after Amy and Tabitha ride. But it’ll only be for a short bit.”

  “If you don’t return within ten minutes I’ll call the . . . oh, wait. They’re already here.”

  “Very funny.”

  “You will tell me what this is all about at some point.”

  She smiled at him.

  “I’d love to.”

  Annie sensed that the people sitting nearest to them were trying to understand their conversation. It was time to change the subject.

  “Have you had a chance to look at the day sheet?”

  “I’ve done nothing but stare it since you left. It’s all Greek to me.”

  “Let me see if I can help.”

  It was a bit like the blind leading the blind, she thought. But at least someone was doing the leading.

  * * *

  Amy entered the arena at precisely one thirty, the first rider on the afternoon schedule. Like the two previous riders, she entered at a trot, but this time the horse’s carriage and its gait seemed quite different. Instead of the stretchy neck Sammy and Prince had shown at this pace, Schumann’s neck was raised and arched, and his nose was nearly vertical with his poll. There also was an enhanced level of expression in his trot. It seemed to Annie that the horse was somehow more motivated to move forward although he appeared completely at ease as he made small, light steps down the centerline. Energy seemed to surge through his body, from his back onward.

  Schumann also knew a lot more dressage moves, she soon realized. She watched him prance down long rails in a lateral direction, one hind foot elegantly stepping beneath the other. And his canter seemed like perfection itself. His strides were shorter than what she’d seen with Prince, but they resulted in light, almost buoyant steps. She applauded enthusiastically as Amy and Schumann left the ring, restraining her urge to whistle.

  “Who’s next?”

  “Tabitha Rawlins. She and Amy are riding the same test, second level test three, which obviously is much more advanced than what you saw Lucy do.”

  “Right.”

  She looked at him suspiciously. “You did see Lucy ride, didn’t you?”

  He grinned. “The last bit. She just looked as if she needed a kind word, way up there on that big horse.”

  “You were absolutely right. Anyway, it’ll be interesting to see how Tabitha performs. Amy trains under Melissa, who’s an absolute sweetheart, and Tabitha’s trainer is Harriett, who’s a bit of a tyrant although Miriam swears by her. Both trainers are excellent riders, just different styles. I’m curious to see how Harriett’s training is reflected in Tabitha’s ride.”

  “Tell me what you see. I can guarantee that any subtleties will be lost on me. Which is not to say I won’t enjoy the show.”

  “Of course not.” She wondered what he’d rather be doing than what he was now, then blushed.

  * * *

  Annie couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but Tabitha’s ride was significantly different than Amy’s. There were no gaffes, no egregious errors that Annie could see. If anything, Tabitha’s transitions from gait to gait seemed more precise, and her execution of each movement was so knowing and immediate that Annie suspected the rider really had spent her evenings memorizing each pattern. She looked for any trace of bling on Jackson but found none. There was no hint of color, nothing jangled, and Annie was relieved that Tabitha seemed to have overcome her superstitions about what her baubles could do. All in all, it was a very clean, even, and meticulous ride. Annie dutifully clapped as Tabitha rode Jackson out of the ring. But something was missing. What was it?

  Then it came to Annie. It was heart. When Amy had ridden, it had been clear that her whole heart was in the ride, and with her horse’s performance. Tabitha had executed what seemed to be a near flawless ride, but the spirit and intensity Amy had exhibited were just not there.

  She stood up and stretched, and Marcus joined her. She glanced at her watch. Sixteen minutes until Gwendolyn’s test time. She looked for her over in the warm-up pen. There she was, trotting on her Warmblood, Martinique, with Harriett close by. The trainer must have just said something that Gwendolyn didn’t like because Annie saw her abruptly wheel Martinique around so that she no longer faced Harriett. She saw Harriett raise her hands and drop them, then walk out of the warm-up ring, shaking her head. Gwendolyn didn’t seem to be getting along with anyone today.

  “Be right back,” she said to Marcus, and scrambled down the spectator tiers and over to where she’d just espied Deputy Collins. When she reached him, all she said was “Ready?”

  Deputy Collins didn’t even give her a verbal response; he merely nodded. Fine, if he wanted to pout, let him. He motioned her toward a subcompact Ford that despite its size, still looked to Annie like a miniature cop car. It took two minutes to get to the house, and not a word was spoken on the way. Annie discreetly felt the zippered pocket in her breeches. Hollis’s master key was still there. Good. Now all she had to do was find a way to ditch the deputy for a few minutes to accomplis
h her final task.

  The house seemed cavernously empty. Perhaps it was the juxtaposition of coming from a crowded place that was humming with activity. Whatever it was, Annie felt as if she and Deputy Collins were the only two people on the premises. That was fine with her.

  She used her own key to get into her bedroom. No sense in letting Deputy Collins know she had the ability to access every room in the house. She lugged out her suitcase and deliberately turned her back on him as she adjusted the combination lock to the code to open. The lid popped, Annie pried up the top, and there it was, nestled in a bed of towels, a small mason jar with a milky-white liquid inside. She stepped aside.

  “It’s all yours.”

  Deputy Collins stared down at it, as if could explode at any second. He leaned over to take a closer look, and Annie was pretty sure that he sniffed it. Honestly. This was getting boring. Couldn’t he just pick it up, put it one of his evidence bags, and leave? She’d make an excuse for sticking around for a few more minutes. She wasn’t above using the vague excuse that for reasons of her sex, she needed to use the bathroom.

  You could just tell him what you’re up to, her Good Angel reminded her.

  Forget about it, her Bad Angel scoffed. He’d just make it into a big production, and all you need is a couple of minutes to do the job.

  “This is not going to be simple,” Deputy Collins said the words begrudgingly.

  “Oh? Why not?” She’d have liked to tell him she’d managed to pick it up, carry it to her room, and place in her suitcase with no difficulty. But she said nothing more.

  “I want to get the explosives squad to remove this. It’ll take a while.”

  “Okay. Well, I’ll just scamper off, then.”

  He nodded absently, his eyes still on the jar.

  “And, uh, you will lock my door when you leave, won’t you?”

  He nodded again without looking at her.

  Annie left one heartbeat later, pulling her bedroom door five inches closer to her as she did so. Deputy Collins did not have to see what she was about to do.