Apples, Appaloosa and Alibis by Maria Swan (feel good novels TXT) 📕

corral. “That’s Officer Bob Clarke, the one I was telling you about, Ernie. He gave us a ride down here. What did I miss?”

Good Samaritan took center stage once again and told how he arrived driving Walter’s truck when he noticed the girl—he pointed to me—screaming and running with Leo chasing after her. He skipped mentioning the dog and the horse, probably in a hurry to get to the good part where he rushed to my rescue and Leo jumped into the idling pickup and drove off.

“Except” —it was my turn to speak— “Leo is not Leo, he’s Rogelio Avondo. I swear.”

Even in the dim light I could see Tristan’s face change. Bob already knew and Brenda, Lopez and the good Samaritan appeared to have no clue as to who Rogelio Avondo was.

Then Lopez said, “Hmm, makes sense. Roge-lio. Lio in Spanish is pronounced like Leo in English. He told me his name was Leo Rogue. He had social security and everything else with that name.”

“Detectives Ross and Reid are on their way here.” Bob cleared his throat. “And other detectives from the Tucson office are joining them because we are in Pima County. You’ll be able to file a stolen truck report soon,” he said to Good Samaritan. “This place is about to be taken over by squad cars and detectives. They are investigating a murder, and I guess a vehicular theft.”

“He was stealing a bunch of other stuff. I didn’t know, and I offered to help him push the wheelbarrow and...”

“Monica, you did what?” Brenda puffed smoke and paced.

“Hey, I didn’t know, ok? I thought he was a barn worker or something. If I hadn’t, he would be gone with the loot by now, and we wouldn’t have known that Rogelio Avondo was here. By the way, how long has he been living here? This is crazy.” I totally expected Tristan to rush over and hug me and ask if I was all right. I could have used a warm arm around my shoulders, the weather was pretty chilly, and I only had on the light clothing I wore to the Phoenix police headquarters. Instead, I heard a loud swish and sprinklers shot off all over the grassy pasture.

Bob came unglued. “No, no, stop that . Stop it. All the evidence will be washed away.”

Good Samaritan took off without hesitation, and in moments he had reached the timer by the side of the barn and turned everything off. Only a few fat drops hit my hair. Again I looked at Tristan, still on the inside of the fence. But he kept patting his mare.

“Where is Lois?” he asked. “Maybe she can shed some light into this nightmare.”

Lois, heh? He was avoiding any mention of Angelique. I bet she was the mastermind.

Brenda was the one who answered. “Haven’t seen Lois in...I don’t know... a week? I assumed she quit. She and Angelique had been at each other’s throat ever since that L eo showed up. I thought maybe Lois wasn’t happy with—you know... the Angelique-Leo—oh, what the hell, everyone knew they were having an affair.” She paused then mumbled, “Sorry, Tristan.”

“Who was having an affair?” Ernie Lopez, the one in charge of everyday operations, asked. How could he not know? Probably because he ran the ranch from inside his living room instead of being hands on?

And who was I to judge? This was the closest I had ever gotten to a real ranch with horses and cowboys. Oh, and thieves and murderers, let’s not forget that. Yes, this was no Little House on The Prairie, but our cast was quite interesting if you ask me.

“Has anyone checked her room?” Bob asked. Brenda and Ernie shook their heads.

Maybe it was the sprinklers or the word affair, whatever it was, Tristan decided to join us, on the parking side of the fence. “Ernie, I intended to take my horse home. I’d like to take a look at the trailer in case it needs emptying or something.”

“Sure, sure, this way.”

I figured this was my chance to get up close and personal with Tristan without being too obvious, so I tagged along after the two men; make it three because suddenly Bob joined us. The horse trailer was on the other side of the barn building, just a skip from where Avondo stole the truck. The motion lights came on as we walked by. There was only one-horse trailer, and it was full to the brim with stuff. And then it hit me.

“Oh, I bet this is where Avondo was headed with the wheelbarrow. And I bet everything in the trailer is stolen goods.”

“If that’s the case, it’s all evidence,” Bob declared. He pulled a flashlight from somewhere, a pocket? And pointed to some of the items that had spilled out of the trailer.

“That bastard.” Ernie Lopez reached for... a gun case? I couldn’t tell. “So this is where the missing Winchester 1873 is. It disappeared five days ago. Been in my family for generations. What else did he steal?”

Bob Clarke rushed to the open back of the trailer. “All this is evidence. We can’t touch anything. Not a single item until the detectives are able to sift through it and...”

“Yes.” I nodded. “This is where he was taking the stuff in the wheelbarrow. Tristan, one of the saddles looked just like Tache’s.”

“He took her saddle? Where is it?”

“Up there,” I pointed at the spot where the wheelbarrow had tipped over. “No one touched it as far as I know.”

“And no one will until the detectives get here. Please, people, I’m here officially as an officer of the law. Sorry, Tristan, you won’t be able to use the trailer, it will very likely be impounded.” And Bob’s phone went off.

He turned his back to answer and moved a few steps away. I had no idea who he was speaking to, but I would have loved to dig through the horse trailer. Man, that crook had been busy.

“Tristan, Mr. Dumont.” Mr. Dumont? Suddenly Bob