Death By a Dark Horse

I say to him this time, anyway? 'I've figured out who killed Valerie and I'm scared. Can I come stay with you?' Sounded like a sniveling child. I'd already done child-with-a-temper-tantrum this week. Besides, Uncle Henry said Paul was in Seattle through the weekend. Could I swallow my self-respect and call him? God no. I'd rather spend the night in my attic with the spiders. Besides, I had no assurance he'd be inclined to help me even if I knew how to reach him-which I didn't.

I was probably overreacting.

I was safe at home.

Pretty much.

I double checked the locks on the doors and windows, tossed my clothes in the washer, and stepped into the shower to rid myself of the smell and feel of the tavern. A loud thump sent me cowering to the corner of the tub, expecting to see the curtain ripped back and the flash of a butcher knife. The water pressure in the shower spray decreased abruptly. The washing machine. It'd shifted into the rinse cycle. Despite knowing the cause of the noise I rushed to finish rinsing, toweled off and pulled on my nightgown. With my heart still hammering against my ribs, I slid into bed.

Not five minutes passed before I got up, dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt, and lay down again.

Don't be such a weenie, Thea. You can do this.

I turned off the lights and stared, wide eyed, into the darkness, listening for any sounds.

At four o'clock I gave up pretending I would sleep, got up, and went into the kitchen to make coffee. The water gurgled as it heated and dripped into the carafe. It was so slow-and noisy. Why had I never noticed that before? I poured Cocoa Krispies into a bowl, ate, and tried to rehearse what I would tell Detective Thurman. When the coffee was ready, I filled a large travel mug, put on my sneakers and opened my front door, intending to leave.

Parked behind my car at the curb was an older Chevy I didn't recognize. Someone was inside, in the driver's seat.

Joey.

No, not Joey. My heart wedged itself into my throat and stopped. I well knew what Mr. Parsons's hired goon looked like sitting in a car, and this wasn't him.

Get back in the house, you idiot! No, wait. You'll be trapped. He hasn't moved. Maybe he didn't notice you. If you're careful you can still get to your car and the sheriff's office.

Cautiously, I took one step, and then another. Still no movement from inside the car. If he moved, I'd run. Drawing a breath, I continued to approach my vehicle on tip toe.

Still nothing.

I crept closer, watching. Once within mad-dash distance of my own car I recognized the lurking form.

My pulse plunged to normal. Jorge sat at the wheel, sound asleep. Miguel must have sent him over.

I walked over and tapped on the window. No reaction. I tapped harder. Jorge sprang awake and looked around. I waved at him.

'Thea!' He rolled down the window.

'Go home, Jorge.'

'I'm supposed to be protecting you.'

'Thank you, but I'm going to the sheriff's office now.' I made no comment on the quality of his protection.

'Oh, okay. I'll go home then.' He yawned and dug her car keys out of his pants pocket. 'I would have woke up if someone came by. I'm a very light sleeper.'

'I'm sure you would have. I appreciate it,' I added sincerely.

I smiled, got in my car, and started the engine. He put his car into gear only after I pulled away from the curb.

At a little after four-thirty the April sky in the Northwest is still dark. The cloud cover makes it even darker. The night officer at the Sheriff's Office made me wait while he verified my identification before letting me into the building. The entry was well lit, but there were nerve-wracking deep shadows beyond the floodlights.

'I need to talk to Detective Thurman about the murder case he's investigating,' I said.

'Thurman won't be in before eight. You'll need to wait until then.'

I sighed and checked my watch. I'd have a long wait in an uncomfortable chair, with no magazines for distraction. At least I had my coffee and I was safe.

'You don't need to wait here, you know,' the officer said.

I brightened. 'Should I wait in his office?' That would be better.

'You could go home.'

'I don't want to go home.'

'Are you here to confess?'

'No!' Oh my God, did cops I didn't know recognize me? Did everyone think I killed Valerie? I had to clear this up. Now. 'I have information for him. I think I know who murdered Valerie Parsons.'

'Oh.' He looked, without enthusiasm, at the clock. 'It won't kill him to get out of bed. I'll give him a call.'

He disappeared, and in less than a minute the sliding window from the office opened and he put a phone on the counter where I could reach it.

'Line one,' he said.

I pressed the blinking button.

'Good God, woman, do you know what time it is?'

'I think I know who killed Valerie Parsons.' I tripped over my words, inexplicably breathless.

'That's what Hausman said. You got your attorney there?'

'No. I can't imagine why I'd need him for this.'

'Suit yourself. Okay, who's our killer?'

I told him, in detail, what happened, leaving out the parts irrelevant to the case.

'So, you decided the description of haircut, clean, kind of blond and 'good looking, I guess,' told to you by a sleaze bag who mooches drinks, that someone, who was with another guy named 'Lee,' might possibly have been the killer of Valerie Parsons, and maybe hired this Lee person to go to Copper Creek Equestrian Center, take her horse, and put him in the field where we'd later find Miss Parsons's body and think her death was an accident. But this Lee guy took your horse instead because the two horses look alike – yeah, yeah, I know, same stall location, different barn – which is why your horse was taken. How am I doing?'

'Uh, fine.'

'And who is this mystery man who whacked the victim?'

'Jonathan Woods.' I'd spoken his name at last. The silence in my ear went on for so long I thought the detective hung up. 'Are you still there?'

'Yeah, I'm still here.' Another lengthy period of silence ensued. 'And what about this other evidence – the bill of sale, the notes on your door, the witness who places you near the scene? How do those fit in?'

'They're separate issues, except for me being near the scene. That's an outright lie,' I said, my confidence building.

'Have you mentioned your theory to anyone else?'

'No. I didn't say anything to Delores or Miguel either, because they were with me, heard what I heard, and I'm fairly certain they think the same thing I do.'

'Well, at least no one will be filing a lawsuit for slander against you – this morning, anyway.'

'Excuse me?' Was he joking? I pressed my palm to my forehead, searching for another way to explain my evidence.

'Look, Miss Campbell.' His words came out as a long sigh. 'I appreciate the information, but it's highly speculative and circumstantial.'

'I'm sure, but -'

'Miss Campbell,' he said, cutting me off like an impatient parent. 'You need to leave this to the experts. We do, after all, have a vague notion as to what we are doing.'

'Well, of course you do, but -'

'Miss Campbell -'

'But -'

'Thea,' he bellowed.