Free A Basket of Trouble by Beth Groundwater Page B

caught the look, too. “You know, Pedro could
    help you go through the manure pile, or Gil or Hank when they
    get back. They handle that stuff every day.”
    Wilson glanced back at his men, and Phelps’ buddy held up a
    thumb. “Okay, we may use one of them when it comes to that. And
    for fishing in the port-a-potties. Let’s get to it.”
    As he and the other detective and patrolman walked to the
    barn, Jessica let out a sigh. “Sorry about this, Claire.” She took her purse off her shoulder.
    Claire followed suit. “As you said, we can shop anytime. I’ll
    make another pot of coffee. When everyone gets here, they’ll probably want some.” She and Officer Phelps followed Jessica inside the trailer.
    Charley, Jorge, Pedro and Brittany soon tromped up the porch
    steps, followed by the other detective, who opened the door and
    gave Phelps a quick nod before leaving. After scraping off their
    boots and slapping the stable dust off their jeans, Charley and the others came inside the trailer, doffing their cowboy hats as they passed the threshold.
    While Claire got everyone a drink of some kind, Charley
    started pacing. “I can’t believe someone killed Kyle!”
    Brittany nodded and put a hand to her mouth, her eyes red-
    dening.
    “And I’ve got to pay everyone to sit around here instead of
    working.” Charley threw up his hands in frustration and exhaled
    deeply. “This is getting damned expensive.”
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    “I know,” Claire said. “But what else can you do? The police
    have to do their work.”
    Charley slapped his hat against his thigh. “And cause me a bas-
    ketful of trouble in the process.”
    “The real culprit is whoever killed Kyle,” Claire said. “I wonder who did it.”
    Everyone in the room looked at each other and shrugged or
    shook their heads.
    Claire watched their faces carefully. “Any of you know if Kyle
    had any enemies? If he had any recent arguments with anyone?”
    More shrugging and shaking of heads, except Pedro hesitated
    and wouldn’t meet Claire’s gaze.
    She stepped toward him. “Pedro?”
    “ Nada, ” he said quickly, and brought a Coke can to his lips, spilling a few drops on his shirt in his haste. He glanced at Jorge.
    Claire turned to the older man. “Jorge?”
    Jorge’s face was passive, inscrutable. “Kyle was a kind man with
    many amigos .”
    That really didn’t answer her question. She stared at both men
    for awhile longer but saw that she wasn’t going to get anything out of them, so she turned to Brittany. “You dated him a few times.
    Did he mention anyone he was having a problem with?”
    She shook her head. “He was always smiling, didn’t seem to
    have a care in the world.”
    Jessica sat at the desk with fingers drumming on the large cal-
    endar pad in front of her. “Maybe it was a family problem, some-
    thing totally unrelated to the stable.”
    Charley wheeled and looked at her. “I sure hope so, and I hope
    the police find out who did it soon. Kyle’s murder, on top of the is-69
    sues we’re having with Peak View Stables and the neighbors, could deep-six Gardner’s Stables for good.”
    Claire noticed that Phelps had been quietly scribbling on a
    notepad while standing in a corner. She nibbled on her lip. She
    didn’t see how anything anyone had said in response to her ques-
    tions could be helpful. Maybe there was some other way she could
    help Detective Wilson in this investigation. After all, she had done so once before, though he hadn’t appreciated her ‘interference,’ as he called it.
    Time passed slowly as they waited for the return of the search-
    ers. At least the trailer was air-conditioned, and they weren’t sitting outside in the hot sun. Brittany laid her head back on the sofa and fell asleep. When Phelps’ stomach let out a loud growl, Jessica took pity on him and brought a large bag of tortilla chips out of the kitchenette. He passed the bag around and it was soon emptied.
    Jorge got up and fetched a veterinarian’s