Free A Basket of Trouble by Beth Groundwater Page A

breath. “Murdered!”
    “Oh, God. How?” Claire asked.
    “The autopsy showed that his head wound wasn’t caused by
    the horse’s hooves. It was blunt force trauma from a metal tool,
    one that had a much smaller diameter than a hoof, something like
    a hammer or crowbar.” He looked at Jessica. “You got something
    like that on the premises?”
    “We have both,” Jessica replied. “And lots of other tools that
    could fit that description, like hay hooks, pitchforks, heavy-duty pliers and screwdrivers, you name it.”
    Claire furrowed her brow as she tried to absorb this new infor-
    mation. “So Kyle was dead before Gunpowder stomped on him?”
    “Not quite,” Wilson said. “The head wound was delivered first,
    sometime between eight and ten PM, before the other injuries. It
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    didn’t kill him right away, but it might have eventually without
    treatment.”
    Jessica’s expression showed she was as stunned as Claire. “Who
    would do that? And why?”
    Detective Wilson paused, and Claire could tell he was holding
    something back. “That’s what I aim to find out.”
    He stepped onto the porch and handed a document to Jessica.
    “This is a search warrant for the entire premises. These men and I are going to look for anything that might be that murder weapon.”
    He introduced his fellow detective and the two patrolmen.
    “What can we do to help?” Jessica asked after the hand-shaking
    was over.
    “Nothing,” Wilson replied. “But after we finish our search,
    we’ll need to re-interview everyone. What activities did you have planned here today?”
    Jessica glanced at Claire. “Well, Claire and I were going to go
    shopping, but that can wait. There’s no way I’m going to leave here until I know if you found something. Hank and Gil are already
    out on a two-hour trail ride with customers and won’t be back for an hour and a half. And we’ve got another ride scheduled for this afternoon.”
    Wilson pursed his lips. “Hopefully we won’t get in the way of
    your afternoon ride. But when the morning ride returns, I’ll need to meet it.”
    Jessica’s eyes went wide. “You’re not going to tell our customers what’s going on, are you?”
    “No, I’ll just make sure they all leave the area and that we talk to Hank and Gil before they leave the premises.”
    “The horses will need to be cared for first.”
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    Wilson sighed. “I understand. Who else is on the property
    now?”
    “Charley, Jorge, Pedro, and Brittany.”
    “I don’t want them observing our search. Are they busy now?
    Can they take a break and come in here?”
    “I guess so,” Jessica said. “The horses have all been fed and
    watered. They’re probably just doing chores and repairs that can
    wait.”
    “Okay, here’s the plan. We’ll bring everyone in here, search un-
    til the trail ride returns, then stop and do the interviews after the horses have been cared for. If we’re lucky, we’ll find something before the ride return. Which is when?”
    “About eleven-thirty,” Jessica answered.
    Wilson signaled to the same patrolman who had watched over
    them Monday. “Phelps, you stay with the women. One of us will
    bring the others here, then you’ll observe them all while the rest of us search.”
    He turned to Jessica. “One more thing. What’s your trash
    pickup day?”
    “Tomorrow. The same company picks up our manure and
    soiled stable bedding, too. We store it in a dumpster behind the
    barn.”
    The other detective glanced at his loafers as if regretting his
    choice of footwear. Phelps smirked.
    “Good,” Wilson said. “What else gets removed from the prop-
    erty?”
    Jessica thought for a moment. “The port-a-potties are emptied
    every two weeks, and the next time is next Wednesday.”
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    As Jessica talked, Claire could see Officer Phelps grinning at his uniformed cohort, who was rolling his eyes. He obviously was not
    looking forward to the messier aspects of the search operation.
    Jessica must have