One Hoof In The Grave [Carriage Driving 02] (37 page)

Troy nodded.

“You’ll have to say the words.” Geoff pointed at the tape recorder.

“Yessir,” Troy said.

“You’re certain
she
called
you
, not the other way around?”

Troy dropped his head into his hands. “I told you and that Nordstrom guy. Catherine called me just as I was coming down to breakfast Sunday morning to tell me to get my butt in gear.”

“You took the call? You didn’t let it go to voice mail?”

“Catherine hates voice mail. I picked it up.”

“How long after that did she come downstairs and join you?”

Troy hesitated, narrowed his eyes as though trying to visualize the scene.

“Five minutes? Ten?” Geoff pressed.

“Thing is, she didn’t actually come downstairs.”

“She was already in the breakfast room?” Geoff felt his heart speed up.

“Not exactly. She’d been out in the parking lot checking out the fog. It was so thick she was afraid people might not be able to drive their trailers to the Tollivers’ safely.”

Geoff steadied his breathing and nodded as though this new information meant nothing. “Okay. She came in from the parking lot. How long after she called you?”

“I don’t know, man. Does it matter?”

“It’s my OCD. I like to get things exactly right.”

Troy sighed, closed his eyes. He was visualizing the scene. Good. Another little bombshell would be helpful.

“Okay. She called as I came down the stairs. I told her I was already walking into the breakfast area. She asked if Morgan was driving out with us. I said she was still asleep. She was driving back to school after she woke up.

“I picked up some o.j. and a blueberry muffin, then after I put them on one of the tables, I went back and poured me some coffee. I was sitting down with the coffee when Catherine came in from the back door.”

“Not the lobby door?”

“No. I guess she’d walked around the building. I saw her come in and waved to her. She came on over and said she was dying for coffee.”

“Did she seem upset or worried about the fog?”

“Nope. She said it wasn’t too bad to drive through, but she said she had to go change her shirt because she’d gotten damp.”

“How about her hair?”

“Man, I don’t remember.” He sounded sulky. “Anyway, she was wearing that khaki jungle hat—the canvas one with the wide brim. Water just beads up on it.”

“What did you and Raleigh say to one another when he called you Saturday night?”

“What?” Troy sat up straight. “He
didn’t
call me.”

“Text you, then.”

“No, man. I told you. After what happened in the morning, I was staying way clear of him. I didn’t want him to make the connection between me and that banner. Man, I can’t believe we did that.”

“Neither can I,” Geoff said. But he understood it. The kid was not the brightest bulb in the chandelier, and Morgan had all the electricity required to flip his switch. “So, he sent you a voice message?”

“No, man! How many times I have to tell you? The only people who would have called were Morgan and Catherine and they didn’t.”

“No calls to your room?”

“No!”

Geoff spread his hands. “Okay, settle down. Thing is, we pulled your cell phone records—yours and Catherine’s. They say you got a text message from Raleigh’s cell phone at eight-thirty Saturday night. It was deleted, so I’m asking you what he said.”

Troy came up out of his chair. “That’s not true! Ask Morgan. We cut out early. By eight-thirty we were already headed to the motel. Last thing I wanted was to run into Raleigh . . .” He cocked his head. “Why would Raleigh text me? I barely knew the man.”

Unfortunately, Geoff had no idea. But he’d bet Catherine knew why. “Calm down. I believe you. Your records say
you
called
Catherine
Sunday morning.”

“No way. She called me.”

“Your cell records a call from you to
her
on Sunday morning.”

Either Troy was a better actor than Geoff gave him credit for, or the confusion in his eyes was genuine. If it were genuine . . . “Can I see your cell phone?”

“Sure.” Troy handed it over. Geoff checked its history. One text from Raleigh Saturday night. One call six-thirty on Sunday morning from Catherine. “Your phone says you’re lying,” Geoff said. He held onto it.

“Huh? This is crazy.”

Geoff nodded. “Mind if I keep this for a little while?”

“Yeah, man, I
do
mind. I need my phone. If Catherine tries to get me, I have to answer or she’ll freak. I mean, she bought and paid for it.”

“Even on Saturday I can get a court order. I promise I won’t keep it long.” Geoff peered at the phone. “It’s not an iPhone or a Droid, just a simple phone.”

“Yeah. Same as hers. She bought them at the same time—some two for one deal. I’d like an iPhone, but she says she can’t afford it and I sure can’t.”

“Go get one of those cheap pay-as-you-go phones at Wal-Mart.”

“Who’s gonna pay for it?”

Geoff pulled a twenty from his wallet. “Here. Get a cheap one. Then go back to the show.”

Big sigh of relief. Troy was only too glad to leave. As he started out the door, Geoff said, “One more thing.”

“What?” Not happy.

“Catherine ever use your phone?”

“Why would she? She keeps hers practically Superglued to her side.”

After Troy left, Geoff leaned back in his chair. He now knew how the alibi worked and why Troy had not met Raleigh at the dressage arena, but he was afraid he’d never be able to prove it.

Catherine must either have known or suspected that Raleigh was going to try to get in touch with Troy Saturday night, but Geoff had no idea how or why Catherine didn’t want Raleigh communicating with the kid.

She must have swapped phones with Troy—they were identical after all—sometime Saturday, then swapped them back after she called Troy on Sunday morning. She was taking a big chance that Troy would notice the phones had been swapped before she could change them back. Not so big a chance, however, as if Troy had been using a Droid or an iPhone with a bunch of apps.

She’d gotten away with it.

It was the only thing that made sense. Maybe Raleigh boasted he was going to hire Troy away from her. Did the kid matter that much to her? Apparently they weren’t sleeping together.

Say she’d swapped phones with Troy on Saturday night without his knowledge and intercepted a text message from Raleigh setting up a meeting before the show in the dressage arena. Why Raleigh would set such a time and place made no sense to Geoff, but it must have made sense to Raleigh.

Catherine used Troy’s cell to agree to meet Raleigh in Troy’s name. Then she used Troy’s phone to call him from the parking lot of the motel Sunday morning. Sometime, possibly during breakfast, she swapped the phones back. The kid had been too preoccupied with Morgan to use his cell phone Saturday night or Sunday anyway, so he wouldn’t have paid enough attention to his phone to know it wasn’t actually his.

Next he called the motel where the horse people had stayed Saturday night and spoke to the owner. “What’s your policy about late night incoming phone calls?” Geoff asked.

“No policy,” said Mr. Patel. “You call room directly, you get through.”

“How about if I don’t know the room number?”

“No calls.”

“Anyone ever ask not to have late night calls put through?”

“Oh, sure. No problem. We flip a switch at desk.”

“How about last Saturday night? Anybody request not to receive calls?”

“Man, how would I know?”

“Don’t you write it down somewhere? For the next person on shift, maybe?”

He finally got the name and number of the woman who had been the desk on the previous Saturday night. She was off duty this weekend, but Geoff was lucky enough to reach her at home. When he asked her if anyone had specifically requested not to receive calls, the phone went silent. Geoff hoped she was thinking and not painting her fingernails.

Finally, she said, “Yeah. There was a woman paid for adjoining rooms Friday and Saturday. She asked us not to route calls to either room Saturday night.” She snickered. “Guess the guy in the next room was sleeping in her room, and they didn’t want to be disturbed.”

“You remember if there were any calls?”

“Lord, I have no idea. We don’t keep records. Everybody uses cell phones anyway so they don’t have to pay extra.”

He thanked her and hung up.

He needed one more piece of hard evidence, but he was unlikely to get it until Monday at the earliest, unless he called Sarah Beth Raleigh. Dawn was at Merry’s show and he didn’t have her cell phone number. She probably wouldn’t return his messages anyway.

Sarah Beth hung up on him. He had busted the father of her unborn child for transportation of drugs with intent to distribute. He didn’t think Sarah Beth was involved, but that was Stan Nordstrom’s problem. He wondered whether Sarah Beth would post bail for Brock. If she did, he suspected Brock would jump bail and head for parts unknown.