Barnstorming (Gail Mccarthy Mysteries) (19 page)

That made sense. Jeri and I had arrived at the scene of the bust around one, I thought. And Tammi and Ross had ridden away shortly before then. The question was, where were they going? From the swingset trail they could take the trail that led to Tucker Pond and on to the old orchard. From there they could ride to White Road. And from there on to Harkins Valley. They could also ride down to Moon Valley and to Lazy Valley Stable. From there they could reach Highway 1. If they had their cell phones with them, it would be a simple matter to call a friend with a horse trailer to come pick them up at any of these main roads. Tammi and Ross might right now be hidden out at any number of horse places in the county. If they did not return to their home or the Red Barn, it could prove very difficult for the sheriffs to find them. Tammi and Ross could just possibly have managed a very effective disappearance.

Trish was watching my face. “So what were Ross and Tammi up to, galloping through the woods? I can tell you know something.”

I told her the story of the bust and the horseback getaway, and Trish laughed. “I don’t blame them,” she said. “Busting people for growing pot is ridiculous. Let those stupid sheriffs work on who’s killing people on the trails.”

“I agree,” I said. “But it also makes me wonder. Running away like that is a pretty extreme reaction. And Jane Kelly called in the tip that got Ross and Tammi busted.”

“Oh,” Trish said. “I see what you mean. Where did you find Sheryl?”

“Down by that old reservoir.”

“Oh yeah,” Trish said. “I know where that is. Poor Sheryl. I may not have liked her but I didn’t wish her any harm.”

“Did you see anyone when you were out riding today?”

“Not really. I saw that street guy’s camp, but he wasn’t around.”

“What guy is that?”

“He’s got long blond hair and keeps a chicken for a pet. He lives in a tent that’s just near the spot where the long flat trail heads up the hill to the water tank. It’s pretty well hidden from the trail.”

“I’ve never seen that guy or his camp,” I said, “but I know the spot you mean.”

I reflected that those of us who rode and hiked these trails knew them pretty well. A little thought flickered through my mind and then disappeared again as a blast of wind whistled around me.

“This guy’s been living there awhile,” Trish said. “I think he’s harmless. He hitchhikes into town and makes spare change playing his flute.”

“Sounds harmless,” I agreed.

Trish shook her head. “I guess we can’t assume anything anymore.”

For a second we were both silent. A draft of cold air swirled the fallen leaves around us and I shivered.

“Brrr,” I said. “I think I’m going home. It looks like it’s going to storm.”

Trish glanced at the sky. “Right,” she said, “Me, too. Gail, I’m going up the ridge trail straight to the Lookout and dropping down to Moon Valley from there. It should take me an hour. Can you do me a big favor?”

“Sure,” I said.

“Call me on my cell phone in an hour and make sure I made it back to Lazy Valley.” Reaching into her pocket, she handed me her card. “It’s on there,” she said.

“Will do,” I said. “And I know all the trails you’re talking about, so if I can’t reach you I’ll come after you.”

“Thanks,” Trish said, and reined Coal off up the hill.

I watched her receding figure for a moment—a lone red-headed woman on a black horse, with the wind whipping at dark mane and tail and bright coppery hair. Behind them the ridge loomed, stormy gusts tossing the eucalyptus trees. Trish looked solitary and forlorn, and I didn’t envy her. Alone on the trails was not an appealing prospect in this moment.

Gathering the folds of my jacket around me, I hurried towards the main road and home. I needed to call Jeri Ward.

I reached home to find Mac wrestling with his new puppy in the hall and Blue making stew for dinner. My attempt to call Jeri reached only her answering machine. I accepted a margarita from Blue and settled into the armchair by the fire. For the first time I let myself feel how tired I was, both emotionally and physically. The horses and other critters were fed, the wind was swirling through the trees and around the house. Inside, the rich, aromatic smell of the stew and the crackle of the fire in the woodstove spoke strongly of comfort. This was a night for an early dinner and bedtime—at least for me.

But I had one more chore to do. I glanced at the clock and then dialed Trish’s cell phone number. She answered on the first ring, sounding out of breath. “Hi Gail. I just got Coal put away. You won’t believe what’s going on around here.”

“What?” I said.

“Apparently that detective showed up out here at Lazy Valley while Doug Martin was working on his horse and told him about Sheryl. And by all accounts, and I guess there were a lot of folks hanging around, Doug just lost it. He got really upset, almost distraught, someone said. Before the detective said much of anything, he was protesting that he didn’t kill either one of them. And the whole story came out. It turns out that Sheryl was pregnant. Doug had wanted her to get an abortion and she wouldn’t. She wanted to get married. Doug broke up with Sheryl, and went back to Jane, and Sheryl was just furious. After Jane was shot, Sheryl was trying to get Doug interested again but he wanted nothing to do with fatherhood.”

“Oh my God,” I said. This explained what Doug and Sheryl had been so intense about when Jeri and I rode through Lazy Valley Stable on Tuesday.

“There’s more,” Trish said. “Doug told that detective that Sheryl always rode with a twenty-two pistol in her saddlebags. And that he had wondered if maybe Sheryl shot Jane.”

“Oh my God,” I said again and carried the phone into the bedroom so that Mac could not overhear me.

“Someone said that the detective took Doug in for more questioning. There’s talk that maybe Sheryl shot Jane and Doug shot Sheryl. Me, I can’t picture Doug shooting anyone.”

“Me either,” I said.

“But there’s another thing,” Trish said. “Guess what I saw as I rode in?”

“I can’t imagine.” I was beginning to feel like Alice in Wonderland.

“It was just getting dark and I noticed a light in the window of this little employee house at the back of the ranch that’s been empty for a week. The barn help guy quit and moved out. So I glance that way as I ride by and guess who I saw?”

“Who?”

“Ross and Tammi,” Trish said triumphantly. “Sitting at the table eating something.”

“Oh my God,” I said. I knew I was getting repetitive. “What in the world would they be doing there? Did they see you?”

“I doubt it,” Trish said. “It was pretty dark and I’m on a black horse. The house sits about fifty feet from the ranch road. We didn’t make any noise. I’m pretty sure they didn’t see me. But I do have an idea what they might be doing there.”

“What’s that?”

“I’ve been at Lazy Valley almost five years,” Trish said. “And Juli has gone through quite a few trainers during that time. Ross used to work for her, you know.”

“Now that you mention it, I do kind of remember that,” I said.

“Juli smokes a lot of pot,” Trish said bluntly. “And I’m pretty sure she bought it from Ross. He used to show up out here from time to time, even after he quit working for her. I’ve seen him out here in the last few months. He was always talking to Juli. I have the feeling she might be pretty sympathetic to him getting busted for growing pot.”

“I see,” I said. And I did. Lots of people in Santa Cruz County were very much on the side of the pot growers. “So you think Juli might have decided to hide them out?”

“That’s what it looks like to me,” Trish said. “There’s so many horses out here, and so many coming and going, nobody would notice a couple more. And Ross and Tammi were headed in this direction when I saw them.”

“It makes sense,” I said. “Though I can’t imagine what their plan is. They can’t hide there forever.”

“Maybe they don’t have a plan,” Trish said. “I don’t recall either one of them being real bright.”

“Not the sharpest knives in the drawer,” I agreed.

“I’ve got to go,” Trish said. “Thanks for checking on me.”

“You’re welcome. Any time.” I hung up with a sigh. Now I had a lot more information that I should probably tell Jeri. Who was probably grilling Doug Martin at this very moment.

I glanced at the dark outside the window. Windy slaps of rain were spattering the pane. I took a sip of margarita and an appreciative sniff of the stew-laden air. And I turned off the phone. This could all wait until tomorrow morning. I’d had enough for one day. I was taking a break.

Jeri Ward pulled in my driveway at eight the next morning, right as I was feeding my horses. The storm had blown through overnight and the sky was washed and blue. I dumped the last flake of hay into Sunny’s feeder, and waved at Jeri to come on up to the little house.

“I’ve got lots to tell you,” I said, as we crossed the porch.

Jeri was holding a paper cup of coffee and had the resolutely awake look of the very tired and highly caffeinated.

“Were you out late?” I asked sympathetically.

“Uh-huh. This second homicide makes this case a big, big deal. We questioned Doug Martin for several hours. He hasn’t got an alibi for the time of either murder, as close as we can pinpoint it. We think Sheryl Silverman was killed sometime Tuesday afternoon. She left on her trail ride about two o’clock. That’s the last anyone admits to seeing her. Doug Martin says he went back to Jane Kelly’s house and took care of her dogs and ate a solitary dinner. He was only slightly surprised at not hearing from Sheryl, he says. He figured she just went home to her own place. The first he knew she might be missing was yesterday morning when he got to the stable.”

“What does he say about her being pregnant?”

“How do you know that?” Jeri asked me sharply.

“News travels fast around a boarding stable. As far as I can tell, a lot of people overheard Doug getting upset when you showed up out there.”

“Yeah, there were a lot of spectators,” Jeri said. “I tried to get him out of there, but he didn’t want to go.”

“So the news traveled,” I said. “At least among horse people. It sounds to me like Doug really spilled the beans.”

“He was pretty upset,” Jeri said. “I think he thought we were going to arrest him.”

“Did he seem surprised when you told him Sheryl was dead?”

“He did. Shocked.”

“But he would have to act shocked, even if he killed her.” I sighed. “So he admitted that she was pregnant?”

“Yep. He pretty much couldn’t stop talking. He said that Sheryl Silverman getting pregnant was a problem for him. He did not want the obligations of fatherhood. He’s quite clear on that. Sheryl insisted she would keep the baby. She wanted them to get married. Doug says he broke up with her and went back to Jane. He was still trying to convince her to get an abortion. He also says that it crossed his mind that Sheryl might have shot Jane. She usually carried a twenty-two pistol in her saddlebags. My guys are right now checking to see if that gun could have killed Jane Kelly.”

“Do you think Doug killed Sheryl?” I asked.

“He’s the likely suspect if you go by the book. He’s got a clear motive and no alibi. But I’m not ready to arrest him yet. We’ve got a lot of ground to cover first.”

“Speaking of that…” And I told Jeri what Trish had told me about Ross and Tammi.

Even as I finished up, Jeri was getting to her feet. “I’m headed over there,” she said.

“There’s more. You know that guy with the white dog? Well, he’s the one who’s been blocking the trails. And I think he may have an irrational hatred of horse people.” And I repeated the story that Riva had told me. “That guy’s house is the closest place to the spot where Sheryl was shot. And he’s just a short ways from where Jane was shot. Not to mention, I think Jane turned back when she met one of his little barriers. Maybe she actually ran into him. I know Jane. If she’d seen him blocking the trails, she would have given him an earful.”

“Bill Waters is on my list of people to talk to today,” Jeri said. “Anything more, Gail?”

“Not really,” I said.

I watched Jeri move purposefully toward my door and felt a little niggle of misgiving. At some level I wanted to be going with her. I wanted to help solve this mystery. I wanted the darkness that hung over the ridge blown away like mist in the sunshine. I wanted to DO something.

Jeri’s car drove down my driveway. Mac emerged from the house and began throwing a ball for Star. Even Freckles, spurred on by the puppy, occasionally did some fetching. The little black scruffy ball of fur dodged between Freckles’s legs and ran pell-mell after the ball. Mac laughed with delight. I watched and tried to feel the joy in the moment. Tried to let go of this seething need to “do.” But it wouldn’t let me alone.

There was no peace in my heart and my mind raced with questions. Half an hour later I’d cooked breakfast for Mac and Blue and was feeling no more settled. Mac had arranged to take Star over to his best friend’s house to play. Blue had agreed to drive him there. As they headed towards the door I said to Blue, “I might go out for a while. I’ll be back this afternoon.”