Puss 'N Cahoots

Krista.
    “Needy.”
    “No, I don’t get that sense of her, but,” Harry paused, “I don’t believe her even though I like her.” Joan and Krista sharply looked at the slender Virginian. “I don’t believe her concerning her split with Charly, and I have even deeper doubt concerning Ward Findley. He had to have known and she let him off the hook. She called you from the van?” Joan nodded in the affirmative. “Joan, they’re in cahoots.”
    “Ward and Renata?” Astonishment shone on Joan’s face.
    Even Krista blurted out, “He’s such a small-fry. Why?”
    “Maybe because he’s a small-fry.”
    “What on earth could she gain by this? And it’s a hell of a risk to the mare.” Joan thought a minute. “Maybe not. She did say Queen Esther likes to ride in vans.”
    Krista, who had known Ward from childhood, added, “He’s not exactly a liar and not exactly a cheat, but if you left one hundred dollars on the table and walked away, he just might pick it up and say the dog ate it.”
    “That’s a recommendation.” Joan laughed as she crossed her arms over her chest. “Harry, get to the point.”
    They were dear friends and Harry took no offense at Joan being direct. Besides, Joan was under tremendous pressure. “What if Renata stole her own horse?”
    “What!” both women loudly replied.
    “What if she knew Queen Esther would be in good hands? Ward runs a tidy little barn, but he needs money, he needs big horses. He’s young, on the way up. She makes a deal with him and off goes the Queen. My cats and Tucker demolished the deal.”
    “Publicity. Her career needs a lift.” Joan put two and two together.
    “Maybe a juicy role will come of this. Someone in Hollywood will send her agent a better script than she’s been receiving in the past. Or…?” Harry held up the palms of her hands, pleading ignorance, but she felt she was on the right track.
    “Maybe Ward was going to find Queen Esther. He’d look like a hero. Well, there are a lot of ways to slice the baloney, but, Harry, you might be on to something. I wonder if she promised to send her horse to Ward eventually,” Joan said.
    “Time will tell,” Krista succinctly replied.
    “Sure will.” Harry seconded Krista’s evaluation. “And maybe that is too obvious. But maybe she promised him rich clients, friends from the business who want to get into Saddlebreds. If she goes over to Ward herself it’s a bit obvious.”
    “Like William Shatner.” Krista cited the
Star Trek
star who also made some very funny commercials. “Bring Ward big clients like Mr. Shatner?”
    “He can really ride.” Harry had witnessed him many times at shows, and the man wasn’t a passenger.
    “The perfect client for Ward would be someone young, rich, and needing heavy-duty training, as well.” Joan’s brain whirred. “Damn.”
    “It’s a theory.”
    “And a good one, but,” Joan uncrossed her arms to hold up her right forefinger, “Jorge.”
    “His death may have nothing to do with this.” Harry felt a heavy kitty run right across her sneakers as Pewter hurtled in from the gathering room for clients. Harry looked down to behold a tasty piece of chicken, thin sliced, in the cat’s mouth. “Uh-oh.”
    Joan saw it, too. “There goes someone’s lunch.”
    “I can help you with that,”
Tucker volunteered.
    Pewter growled ferociously, then gobbled the prize.
    “If someone pounds in here cursing a cat, we’ll know where it came from.” Joan giggled.
    Harry returned to Jorge. “But we don’t know. Joan, did the sheriff take anything from Jorge’s trailer?”
    “No.”
    “We should have a look. Going to have to clean it out, anyway.”
    “I hate to think of that.” Every now and then the loss of Jorge hit Joan anew, but one thing that prevented her from fully mourning was the nagging feeling that she wouldn’t truly grieve until she understood why he was killed. Was he in the wrong? Did she do anything to inadvertently hasten his end?
    Krista offered, “Why don’t I call Trudy and see if she can come out Monday?”
    Trudy ran a high-powered cleaning service.
    “All right, Harry, let’s go.”
    The two walked out the front door of the main barn, turned right, then turned right again, dipping down behind the main barn and the indoor arena. Within a few minutes they walked through a privacy fence where a trim trailer sat along with other outbuildings and trailers. One could walk by the privacy fence, a palisade, and have no idea