Then it hit me. I blinked rapidly a few times and felt queasy. It must’ve shown.
Stanton frowned. “Is something wrong?”
I took in a deep breath. “I stopped to talk to Joe on my way home from seeing Tom and Harvey. I was there between those times.”
Stanton had opened his notepad. “Did you see anything that might be connected?”
I shook my head and shared with him my conversation with Joe.
Stanton closed his notepad and stood. “I need to get the dog home and feed him. I have a long night ahead.”
He got his things and said good-bye. Rudy walked him to the door.
I felt rooted to my chair. I shuddered. Rick might have been murdered as I was talking with Joe. His body could’ve been there the whole time. The killer or killers could’ve walked past me.
Murder was hitting close to home.
Chapter 23
I unglued myself from the chair seat and helped Ivan wash the dishes. “Are you still going to the festival?”
He wiped a bowl with a dishcloth. “Yah. Sure. Maybe find out something.”
Rudy had returned as I asked the question. “Hiding won’t bring answers. Being here by ourselves didn’t keep us out of the investigation into Rick’s death.”
“True,” I said.
We promised to look for one another tomorrow. Rudy followed me to the door and kept watch as I got into my Jeep. There was no being too careful with all that was happening.
* * * *
The next morning, after the breakfast chores were done, I changed clothes for the event. I’d noticed the thick grass when I delivered the baklava and decided lightweight hiking boots would be a good choice. Black jeans and a green sweater finished my attire.
I’d wear the navy fleece Michael Corrigan had given me when he offered me the job. Embroidered on it was Manager with Redwood Cove Bed and Breakfast under it. No reason not to do a little advertising.
When I entered the kitchen, Tommy, Helen, and Fred were there. Tommy was finishing his breakfast. Fred nudged his empty bowl, pushing it around the floor. He was probably hoping for more kibble to magically appear.
“Looks like you’re ready for the festival,” Helen said.
“The Cossacks ride early and I don’t want to miss them.”
“We’re going to watch them in the afternoon,” Helen said. “Tommy and Allie want to start with the horse-drawn wagon ride.”
“Yeah,” Tommy said. “I’ve never been on one. Neither has Allie.”
“I think you’re smart to do it early. The lines could get long as the day progresses. I understand the wagon goes around the whole festival, and it’s like a guided tour to the different activities.”
Helen nodded. “That’s what it sounded like to me, too. Daniel and I are going to go along with the kids and plan the day as we learn about what’s being offered.”
“I’ll take care of the wine and appetizers tonight. You have the evening off after all the extra work you’ve been doing.”
“Thanks, Kelly.”
Tommy held up what looked like a plastic box. “Mom bought this for Fred to play with in his dog run while we’re gone.”
I went over and looked at it. I’d seen similar ones in the past and knew it was a dog puzzle. Treats were put in it, and the dog had to figure out how to get them out. It would keep Fred well occupied.
I took off my fleece from one of the pegs at the back door. “I’m sure we’ll run into one another. See you later.”
The drive to the festival was short. A steady stream of cars entered the grassy field being used as a parking lot, but there was still plenty of room. An auxiliary lot had been decided upon and shuttles would run when this area was full. I parked a couple of rows from the front and headed for where the activities were being held.
The road leading to the clearing had been blocked off with sawhorses. Ticket sellers stood at the gaps between the barriers. A sign said only residents and their guests could drive through. I joined the lines to buy my ticket and get a program.
When that was done, I walked down the narrow country road, charming inns on my left, the field nearly full of brightly clad performers on my right. Redwood forest encircled the area, creating a magnificent backdrop.
I stopped at one inn to admire a particularly attractive sign. I’d have to replace ours soon. I took out my phone and photographed it. The name Bellington Bed and Breakfast sounded familiar; then I remembered that was where some committee members were staying.
“Can I help you?”
Startled, I looked around. There was a voice but no person.
“Up here.”
On a second-floor balcony, I spied her—a heavyset woman with short brown hair and wearing an apron covered with flowers.
“Hi. I was just admiring your sign. Who made it?” I asked.
“Just a sec. I’ll come down.”
A few minutes later, the stout woman emerged and came down the walkway. “A local woodworker.” She glanced at the corner of my fleece. “You must be the new manager at Redwood Cove B and B.”
“I am.”
“Maude Upton.” She shoved a hand in my direction.
“Kelly Jackson.”
We shook hands.
“I’ll call your place and leave his contact information,” Maude volunteered.
“Thanks.” I pulled one of my cards from my purse and handed it to her.
“He’s reliable and dedicated to doing a good job. He does more than signs. You might be able to use him for other projects.”
I saw a couple of comfortable-looking rocking chairs on the porch. “Looks like you have a front-row seat for some of the activities.”
“I do indeed. I’ve been enjoying watching them practice the last few days. Would you like to join me?”
“No, thanks. I’m meeting a friend.”
She reached in an apron pocket, pulled out a card, and handed it to me. “If you have any questions I might be able to help with, please give me a call.”
“Will do.”
I looked at the map of the festival I’d printed. The Cossacks performed at the far end, where temporary bleachers had been assembled. The festival had been blessed with a sunny morning, not the more common fog. The sunrays through the trees created a dappled road of shadows and light.
Thoughts of Rick entered my mind as I walked, and I pushed them away. Not now. Not here. Let it go. My mind needed some peace right now.
I arrived at the stands. In front of them, an area had been roped off, creating a large ring. Off to one side, several chestnut-colored horses stood, held by men dressed in tan britches and black military-style jackets. They wore tall black riding boots and the classic Cossack woolen hats I’d seen in photographs.
I didn’t see Scott. Then I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned, and my gaze met his blue eyes. For a moment, my heart quickened. Then I looked away, my usual relationship-stopping tactic.
“Ready for our date?”
I could tell by the twinkle in his eyes and the mischievous smile, he was having fun teasing me.
“Where do you want to sit?” he asked.
“Let’s go up a few rows so we can see the riders all the way around the ring.”
We were early and had no trouble finding a space. I was curious about Scott’s feelings toward Alena. She was like him—a city person. Had there been a kinship there when they’d met?
I settled myself on the hard bench. “I hear there’s going to be a formal Russian ball at the Community Center. Where’s it going to be held? I didn’t think the center had an area big enough for that.”
“Michael decided he wanted to build a large multipurpose area. It’s beyond the gymnasium. You haven’t been to that area of the grounds. I’ll show you the next time you come. It’s not done yet but will be in time
for the dance.”
“The building sounds like another one of Michael’s good ideas.”
“It’s working out really well for the veterans. Some of them wanted to learn the carpentry trade, so Michael arranged for them to get training at the same time.” Scott shifted on the seat next to me. “How did you hear about the ball?”
“Alena Stepanova came by to make arrangements to use the conference room again. She mentioned it.”
“Ah, yes, Alena.”
What did that mean? “You two probably struck it off really well. I know city life is what you prefer.”
A hint of a smile showed on his face. “We talked about some restaurants and the San Francisco scene.”
“I think she’d like to get to know you better than someone she’s doing business with. She asked if we were dating.”
“And we are.”
“Scott, I don’t consider this dating. I like to think of this as two friends doing something together.”
He took my hand. “Kelly, I’m just giving you a hard time. I know you’re still finding your way after your divorce.” He looked at my fingers. “If it helps any, I prefer short nails with clear polish to crimson Dracula nails that look like lacquered weapons.”
I didn’t think fashion-conscious Alena would appreciate the comparison to a vampire, but I didn’t care.
“Besides, I’m beginning to like it here…and I’d miss my llamas.”
I could feel a blush start and was saved by the Cossacks. I focused on the riders as they did a full-tilt run around the arena. The stands vibrated. They came to a sliding stop in front of the bleachers. The men and horses were still. A bell began to ring. I consulted my program and saw that a bell ringing would signal the start of the festival.
When the ringing concluded, an announcer came over the loudspeaker. “Welcome, everyone. You are about to see unparalleled horsemanship skills. We are honored to have with us today six Cossacks and their magnificent steeds.”
One man with a long, dark mustache urged his horse forward out of the line. He held a long black whip like I’d seen in Rudy’s basement. He gave a yell, and the horse jumped into a full gallop. The man stood in his stirrups and waved the whip in a circle over his head, then on one side of the horse, and then on the other. They did one ride around the ring with this maneuver.
As the Cossack approached the stands, he flipped the whip from side to side, creating a cracking sound. I remembered what Ivan had told me about them using the whip against attacking wolves. I could see how that could be done with his whip-wielding skills.
I never saw the horse flinch. If he’d been flicked with the black leather instrument, he would’ve reacted.
The next Cossack came forward. He started to lope around the ring, then suddenly, he swung to the side like he was about to fall off. The next thing I knew, he was back in the saddle, but now he held a sword. It had been on the ground, and he had picked it up. Several other items had been planted in the ring, all of which he successfully retrieved.
Each time he appeared to fall, the crowd gasped. Each time he was back in the saddle, they cheered. For him to be able to do what he did required a highly trained horse with an even, smooth pace and a strong individual.
The hour passed quickly. One team had a person leap from their horse to the back of another horse, landing behind the rider. The now-unmanned horse stayed next to the horse with two riders. After several minutes, the rider jumped back onto his own mount. Another demonstrated masterful lance skills. Each Cossack had his own specialty.
For a finale, all the riders raced around the ring, standing on their saddles. The crowd burst into applause. I clapped and clapped. I’d definitely be back for the afternoon performance.
I turned to Scott, adrenaline coursing through me. “What did you think?”
“Unbelievable. Can you ride like that?”
I burst out laughing. “No way.”
“Just thought I’d ask. One time you mentioned maybe going riding together one day, and I wanted to know what I might be getting in to.”
“For your first time out, a nice quiet walk, I assure you.”
We descended from the stands and made our way through the crowd. Demonstrations and performing groups had been given places around the perimeter of the large field. Music filled the air. In the center, a food court had been set up.
“What do you want to see next?” he asked.
“I hadn’t marked anything else in particular on the program except for the Cossacks. I want to see them again this afternoon.”
“Let’s work our way around and see what strikes us.”
We walked side by side, stopping when a display interested us or when we wanted to hear more from a particular singing group. I spotted Clay observing a candle-making demonstration.
I gestured toward him. “There’s Clay Johnson, one of the relatives Rudy recently met.”
I got Scott up to speed on what had happened. We walked over to Clay, and I made the introductions.
“Are Timur and Verushka here?” I asked.
Clay shook his head. “They grew up spending most of their life hiding. As adults, they continue to prefer to keep their distance from others. Besides, Mother’s been getting ready for the tea. It’s been years since I’ve seen her do so much cooking. She’s really excited.”
“I’m looking forward to it,” I said.
Clay frowned. “Bad news about Rick Stapleton being murdered and Rudy and Ivan being pulled into it because he was found on their boat.”
“What happened?” Scott asked.
I told him in a few short sentences, leaving out the part about me following Stanton.
“That matches what I heard,” Clay said. “I stopped by to see Harvey Goldstein. Had a coin I wanted to get an estimate on, and he told me about the murder.”
“Did the police contact you about the coin they found?” I asked.
“They did,” Clay said. “It matched the description of one I sold to Alexander a few days before he died.”
“Was Rick working there at the time?” I asked.
“Yes. Alexander complained and complained about Rick and said he was close to firing him.”
I believed we had one of our answers. It was highly unlikely an unhappy employer would give an expensive coin to a disliked employee. The chances of that were about nil.
I was ready to assume Rick had stolen it.
It probably had been caught on camera.
Was that why he was murdered?
Chapter 24
Scott and I said good-bye to Clay and continued our circuit of the events, my mind still on the question the discussion with Clay had brought up. A wagon approached, pulled by two classic Clydesdales. Their long ebony manes and tails provided a striking contrast to their glistening reddish-brown coat. Both had white blazes and fetlocks. Tommy and Allie, seated in the front, shouted a hello as they passed. Daniel and Helen occupied the seat behind them and waved a greeting. Scott and I waved back.
We meandered for another half hour. Then we headed for the food court and shared a lunch of piroshki and beef stroganoff.
I checked my watch. “It’s about time for the Cossacks to ride again. Do you want to come with me?”
“I need to get back to the center. The contractor in charge of building the new rooms is coming by this afternoon to check on the progress. He had to go out of town for a couple of days at the end of last week. Normally, he wouldn’t be by on a Saturday.”
“Okay.”
“I’ve enjoyed this…and a chance for us to have a pleasant stroll together.”
Our gazes met.
“I enjoyed it, too.” I looked away, breaking the connection. “Glad to hear the llamas are growing on you and are becoming friends.”
“They’re excellent listeners, and they must have accepted me.
I haven’t been spit on once.”
I shot a quick glance at him and was rewarded by one of his mischievous grins.
“Come by next week and I’ll show you the new building…and you can talk to your llama.”
“I’ll give you a call to set up a time,” I said.
With that, we went our separate ways. I felt myself inching closer and closer to a relationship with him…but slow worked fine for me right now.
I enjoyed the Cossacks as much the second time, if not even more than the first. I knew what was coming and concentrated on watching how they did each of the stunts. After their whirlwind galloping finale, they headed for the barnlike structure where I’d delivered the baklava and talked with Vladimir. Wanting to see the horses up close and check out their saddles, if possible, I walked in that direction.
When I reached the building, I didn’t see any sign of the horses or the men. I walked around a corner of the converted barn and immediately spun back around and retreated in the direction I’d come as quickly as possible.
I’d stumbled on Vladimir and Alena in a passionate kiss. I didn’t think they’d seen me. I was glad she had her claws in him and not Scott.
I went around the other side of the building and to the back, where I found a long horse trailer and the horses tied to it. Parked next to it was a house trailer. Two crewmembers emerged and walked past me.
I recognized the one with the shaved head who had approached Vladimir during the food delivery. The other one sported a crew cut and had snake tattoos covering both arms. I remembered Tom saying one of the organizers was bringing a team from San Francisco. I wondered who it was. It didn’t seem relevant to our investigation, but I’d ask anyway when I got a chance. You never knew when a piece of information would prove useful.
The Cossacks weren’t in sight. I walked over but didn’t approach the horses. I’d want to ask permission for that. Their muscular hindquarters and stocky build reminded me of the American Quarter Horses we raised on the ranch. As I was admiring them, one of the riders came from around the back of the trailer. He was young and slender, with dark brown hair.
Murder at the Marina Page 16
