The Michaela Bancroft Mysteries 1-3

by Michele Scott

  "What about Sam? Can't he stay?"

  "He probably could. But you know those two, they're peas in a pod and Sam is such a help to Dwayne when they're out on the road. It'll work out."

  "Okay, but don't hesitate to ask. I don't mind helping around here."

  Cynthia nodded. She stood and walked to the bay window that overlooked their patio and pool. She sighed. "Come with me. I want to show you something."

  Michaela followed her into Uncle Lou's office. Cynthia went behind his desk and opened a drawer, pulling out a file. She handed it to Michaela. "Take a look."

  She opened it. "What is this? Lawsuits?" Cynthia nodded. She glanced over the paperwork. "What's going on?"

  "That is exactly what I asked Lou the night before he died when he showed them to me. There are six of them, all pertaining to the artificial insemination program. All of those people in the lawsuits are claiming that the foals born to their mares are not Loco's. They have DNA evidence to prove Loco is not the father."

  "What? They're saying that Lou substituted another stallion's sperm to breed to their mares?"

  "Yes. But it's worse than that. Lou has no recollection of ever sending product to any of these people."

  "Then their claims are bogus."

  Cynthia shook her head. "I don't think so. They all have signed breeding contracts. That's Lou's signature on the bottom of each, and look, the attorney included photocopies of the back of the checks. That's my husband's handwriting. The odd thing, though, is that Loco's stud fee is $3,500.00 and those checks are each for two grand."

  "A bit of a deal." Michaela studied the papers. Cynthia was right. It did look as if Lou had signed the contracts with these people, as well as the back of the checks. "I don't understand."

  "Neither do I. Lou swears he doesn't remember signing any of this stuff. And he claimed that he'd never given anyone that type of deal. I wanted to believe him, but how could I? The other part of it is that I can't trace the money to any one of our checking accounts. The numbers on the deposits don't match up. I can't even find a bank that they went into."

  Michaela studied the photocopy of the back of one check to see if it listed the name of the bank where the deposits were made. It didn't, but it did have the bank's routing number and indicated that the deposits were made in Los Angeles. "We need to find out which bank uses this routing number here." Michaela pointed to the number. "Once you can find that out, we can locate the bank and branch where the account was open and maybe go from there."

  "How do I do that?" Cynthia asked.

  "Did you talk to Summer MacTavish about this? Is she still handling the books for the business?"

  "She is, but Lou limited her responsibilities somewhat after she left Ethan. You know how he feels when somebody hurts someone he cares about."

  "I do know that. What did he stop having her do?"

  "Well, he told her that he'd take over running the books on the breeding program. He only left her in charge of accounts receivable and payroll. I haven't had a chance to speak to her yet, because like I said I just discovered all of this within the last forty-eight hours. But it's driving me crazy because I have no idea where these checks were deposited. I'm afraid to say anything to the police, because what if it's true? What if Lou was defrauding these people?"

  "You think Uncle Lou would hide money from you and steal from people?" The words coming from Cynthia sounded completely incredulous.

  "No. Not really. It sickens me to think about and now we can't figure it out together. The only other explanation that might make sense is that Lou was having memory problems."

  "He was?"

  "I noticed it about a month ago, and then when he showed me these papers the other night, he said that he'd been to see his doctor, because he felt like he was losing his mind. He was practically in tears."

  Michaela took a deep breath, feeling like all the air had been sucked from her lungs. This was unbelievable. Could that have been why he didn't sound like himself the other night? "Are you talking something like Alzheimer's or senility?"

  "I have no idea. I'm hoping his doctor will speak to me about it. I'm the one now who will have to deal with these suits, and they're asking for over a million dollars in damages, claiming that the foals they expected from Loco's bloodline could have profited them greatly."

  "You think that any of these people who filed these suits could be responsible for Uncle Lou's murder?"

  Cynthia shrugged. "It's a crazy world. After looking over all of this, and wondering what was going on with him, I don't know what to think. But they're all located in Ohio. So, if someone from this core group of people is behind it, they would have had to hire someone, and that really doesn't make a lot of sense, because with Lou gone a lawsuit such as this can become even more convoluted." Michaela put the papers back inside the folder. "I hate to ask you this because I know you're in pain, too, but would you mind taking these papers with you and seeing if you can't find out where the checks were deposited? And, what's going on? I don't think I have the strength right now."

  Michaela hesitated for a minute. She wasn't sure she wanted to get herself involved in any of this. Seeing the sorrow in Cynthia's eyes and the grief tightening her face, she said, "I'll see what I can find out."

  "Thank you."

  "What about Dwayne? Doesn't he handle some of the AI transactions, or Sam?"

  "No, not really. They're involved in the training and that's pretty much it. It's mainly been Lou. Of course they've helped at times. Everyone has, even me. And Ethan has also helped out when he was here. Lou was about ready to start looking for some more help, and then he received the lawsuits and thought he better wait until things were cleared up. But no one else handled the paperwork. Lou was the breeding manager, after all. I mentioned this all to Dwayne this morning and he was as floored about it as I was."

  "Maybe these lawsuits do have something to do with his murder. Or maybe not. Say this is true. I mean... I can't believe that it could be, because Uncle Lou was so ethical in everything he did. But if by some chance there was a mix-up with the DNA?"

  "I don't think that's likely. We're dealing in large amounts of cash. People want to be assured of protection in case this exact thing were to happen. I'm sure you're aware that the American Quarter Horse Association maintains DNA samples of all the stallions involved in AI, and for the foals to be registered they also have to be DNA typed, if they're bred via AI. And, the claim is the DNA doesn't match. The plaintiffs have all contacted the AQHA and they're backing these people, saying that their claims are valid. I think they could even force us to shut down the operation."

  Michaela frowned. She didn't have a clue what to make of any of it. "Do you know if the owners know who the real stallion is to these foals? There were three other studs here at the time these people would have received the product and had their mares inseminated, weren't there?" It could be as simple, albeit, a horrific mixup if one of the other stallion's sperm was sent out to the mares' owners. Loco's fees were some of the more expensive stud fees out there. The other stallions on the ranch were all of excellent breeding, but they weren't Loco, and Michaela could not blame any of the owners for being upset over such a mixup. People wanted to get what they paid for.

  "The documents are claiming that there is an ongoing investigation. They also say that in the breeding reports Lou had to file that none of these mares were included. This was supposedly how the owners were first alerted there might be a problem, when they discovered they couldn't register their foals because there was no breeding report on file with their mares' names."

  "So, the plaintiffs here have not named the stallion they believe to be the stud horse of these foals?"

  Cynthia shook her head. "You know, it may not even be a stud registered with the AQHA. It could be some random horse. I don't know. At this point I think the AQHA is still trying to track the DNA. I fear that on top of everything, we will lose our business and I'll have to pay all of these damages."

>   "Did Uncle Lou indicate anyone who he thought would intentionally switch containers to be shipped to the mares' owners?"

  She sighed. "He did mention Brad. Brad was working here at the time and knew how the program worked."

  "But why? Why would he do that, and how would he get a hold of contracts and checks?"

  Cynthia shrugged. "Maybe it's as simple as Brad was being plain mean. We all know he's proven himself not to be the most upstanding individual. Maybe he wanted to sabotage Lou, you know, make sure he ruined Lou's reputation. And once this gets out, my husband's memory will be forever tainted in the horse world."

  "I won't let that happen. I don't believe Lou could have done anything to hurt anyone. Not intentionally. I'll help you figure this out." Michaela sighed, trying to wrap her mind around all of this. "What about Bean? I know that everything is on a numbering system as far as which stud's sperm is which in the freezer, that kind of thing, and you keep records, but could Bean have somehow gotten things mixed up?"

  "Lou didn't let Bean have anything at all to do with the program for that very reason. He could have easily mixed things up."

  "Who was the person in charge of sending everything out?"

  "At first it was Brad, then Summer on occasion as business picked up and Lou needed the extra help. I did it as well at times. But Lou was the main handler of all of it. We really should have put better strategies into play. That's obvious to me now. Because somewhere along the way, something got screwed up. And as far as the contracts and checks go, it could be as easy to explain that with age my husband could have signed them and been having problems with his memory."

  "He wasn't old, though. Sixty-one is hardly an age these days where people begin losing it."

  "Alzheimer's disease can begin in your fifties."

  "You know, I wish I'd known he was having health problems. Maybe I could have helped."

  "Your uncle was a proud man. I'm his wife and he didn't confide in me until the other night. But I should have paid more attention." Her eyes welled up with tears again. "I had noticed that there were little things he'd forgotten, like bills that didn't get paid, and one night when Dwayne was out and Bean had already gone home, he didn't feed the horses until I reminded him. But nothing too major. I thought maybe he was working too hard. Or, maybe the blowup with Ethan was eating at him."

  "What do you know about what happened between them?" Michaela asked.

  "All I know is that right before he left on that trip, he and Lou had a huge argument and it tormented Lou afterward."

  "What was it all about?"

  "I don't know. I could hear this commotion going on out in the barn. I walked out there and Dwayne was telling Ethan to get the hell off the property."

  "What happened after that?"

  "Lou followed him, tried to talk to him, but Ethan wouldn't have anything to do with it. He shrugged him off. Lou nearly lost his balance as Ethan pulled away. Lou wouldn't tell me what it was about, and ever since then he's seemed preoccupied, and sad. Something changed; something Ethan told him changed him, but I don't know what. I even tried to get a hold of Ethan to find out what it was, but he never called me back." The phone started ringing. "Excuse me, Mick. It might be that detective or the funeral home. I'm trying to make the arrangements." She started for the family room.

  "Sure. Do you have some aspirin? I'm getting a vicious headache."

  "In my bathroom upstairs. Oh, your uncle had some Ativan that he was taking for some headaches he was getting. You can try those, if you want. They seemed to help him."

  "Ativan is not for headaches. At least I don't think so. I always thought it was for anxiety or panic attacks."

  "I don't know. I don't take that stuff anyway, but the doctor gave it to Lou for the headaches. Sorry, I gotta get the phone."

  It wasn't like Michaela was a doctor or anything, but she was sure Ativan was prescribed for agitation. Her doctor had recommended it to her when she was splitting from Brad but she'd decided against it. Like Cynthia, she tried to stay more on the holistic route, if possible. But right now, she needed a Tylenol. Why was her uncle taking Ativan? Well, agitation did cause headaches, so what did she know.

  Michaela climbed up to the second floor. Their bedroom was very Home and Garden. Cynthia had given the place life when she'd married her uncle. She put colors together well and had a knack for making a house feel like a home with earthy warm tones and various floral and equestrian paintings around. It was pretty and inviting. But now the house, too, felt different, just as the ranch had when she'd arrived. She didn't know how Cynthia could stay here. She knew if it were her, she'd want to get away, but maybe it was a comfort thing. Maybe Cynthia needed to be here at the home she'd shared for the last decade with her husband.

  In the bathroom, she found the bottle of aspirin tucked away inside the medicine cabinet, next to a bottle of Ativan. She picked it up. It was a refill prescribed to Lou only two weeks earlier. He had two more refills available. What in the world? Her uncle was never one to take drugs, especially not something like Ativan. His headaches must've been horrendous. What was going on in her uncle's life that he was so stressed-out about? She picked up the bottle and read it again. It was prescribed to Uncle Lou by a Dr. Verconti. Huh. She'd thought he'd gone to the same family doctor as her parents had— Dr. Sherman. He must have switched docs for some reason. Goodness, what had been going on here? And how had she not sensed until the night before her uncle was murdered that something was deeply troubling him? The lawsuits? His memory loss? Where was the money for the breedings? And, what stallion was used to impregnate those mares? Why hadn't she seen that her uncle was in crisis? Had she been so wrapped up in her own problems that she hadn't been available to the one person who had always, always, made himself available to her?

  Starting to tear up again, she reached for a tissue, wiped her face and tossed it away. She missed the wastebasket and bent down to pick it up. Her eyes widened.

  "Oh, my God," she muttered. There in the trash was a pregnancy test, and Michaela knew from all those she'd taken in the past that this one read positive. Cynthia was pregnant? But how? Uncle Lou...

  From a conversation she'd overheard between her parents when Lou and Cynthia wed, she'd learned that Lou had had a vasectomy. Maybe he hadn't gone ahead with the procedure. Maybe she was jumping to conclusions. She heard the blood rushing through her ears. But, if it was Cynthia— and it had to have been done that morning, because that blue line would have gone away after several hours— and if Uncle Lou had had a vasectomy; that meant... Michaela shook her head. No. It couldn't be, but she knew she would have to find out. Had Cynthia been cheating on her uncle?

  THIRTEEN

  CYNTHIA WAS STILL ON THE PHONE WHEN Michaela came down the stairs. The revelation that Lou's wife was pregnant, and the strong possibility that the baby was not her uncle's, continued to stun her. Again she thought, maybe he hadn't gone through with the vasectomy. That in itself was bad enough. Here Cynthia would be without Lou to help raise a child, though the alternative was worse: the possibility that Cynthia had been cheating. Michaela's mind wandered even further as another thought struck her— could Cynthia have killed Lou? If she was in love with someone else, maybe that someone else could have done it. No. No way. She would not believe that. She would stick to the hope that Lou had not gone through with the operation. But Michaela knew that to put her mind completely at ease, she would have to check around, and she didn't really want to ask the two people most likely to know: her parents. What a mess.

  She left a note for Cynthia saying that she'd call her later. She really didn't want to be there when Cyn got off the phone. This one had to simmer for a while.

  She walked out to the barn and spotted Dwayne down the breezeway, putting Loco back in his stall. He waved her over. "How Cynthia seem to you?"

  "She actually seemed grounded," Michaela replied. "More so than I would've expected." Or, maybe Cynthia was in as much shock as Michaela was— not only ov
er the murder of Lou, but also about her pregnancy.

  "That's her. Strong woman. She get through this. She know that be the way your uncle would want it. But, I think she put up a front right now. I think inside her there's a big piece of her crumbling."

  "You're probably right. How about him? How's he doing?" She pointed at Loco.

  "Oh, he know something up. He skittish today. Missing his man, you know. Horses sense. They know when something is different. He know. Spiritual animal. Remind me of home. Too bad he can't talk, tell us who did this."

  "Any ideas?" Michaela asked.

  "Me? No."

  "Were you here when my uncle had that fight with Ethan?"

  "I was working in the arena. Heard them shouting. I came on down. Man, oh man." He shook his head. "Ethan real unhappy, you know. Your uncle trying hard to calm him down, but it not happening for him. Mad. Real mad." Dwayne's voice had the melodic lilt that could only come from the islands.

  "Do you know what it was all about?"

  "No. All I hear Ethan say before I told him to leave was that Lou was full of shit. A disgrace, he say. If everyone knew the truth about him, they'd think, so too. Don't know what that meant. Lou was good man, you know. You'd have to ask Ethan. Lou wouldn't talk about it with me."

  The problem was, she had already asked Ethan... and he wasn't talking either. Dammit. "Right. Listen, besides this thing with Ethan, do you know anything about the lawsuits against Uncle Lou? Cynthia told me that she'd spoken to you about it."

  "You know, that be none of my business. But could be that Lou got things mixed up. I don't like to say that, but he try to take on too much in the last few years with this program. I tell him to just ride and train. No need for all the science, breeding nonsense. He get real stressed-out lately, ask me or Sam to pick up a prescription for him. I see him taking the medicine for stress and I worry about him. I say, Boss, why you taking this stuff?"