AT ONE-THIRTY THAT afternoon, a short memorial service took place on the lodge grounds for Blake Helms. The State Crime Lab had performed the forensic autopsy and returned the body to Bigfork late that morning. Jay, Piper, Claire, Guy, Sheriff Bell, and all the employees from the morning shift were in attendance. As well, the afternoon shift staff members came to the lodge early to pay respects to a fellow employee who had met with an untimely and violent death. LoLo from the Woods Bay Grill attended, as well as several folks from the Bigfork area who had known Mr. Helms in one capacity or another. Neither of Blake Helms’s children, nor his ex-wife, flew in for the service.
The overall tone of the crowd was glum. A slight breeze relieved the heat of the day and circulated the smell of pine needles throughout the air. Comments could be heard amid the gathering, such as, “He was here one minute, gone the next,” “Who would have killed that poor man?” and “It could have been any one of us.”
Claire eyed the crowd without being obvious, taking in the expressions, gestures, and movements of everyone present, looking for anything that seemed out of the ordinary. Suddenly, she hesitated. She grabbed Guy gently by the arm and whispered, “The murderer is here.”
Guy’s eyes looked quickly but not thoroughly over the lineup of guests. He did not sense what Claire did, but he also respected her rather abnormal powers of perception. The thought that the killer may be standing only feet away sent a chill down his spine. He looked over the entire assemblage a second time, but again, no one and nothing jumped out at him.
A local man of the cloth started the service with two spirited questions: “What is life?” he said. “What is death?” He paused an uncomfortable minute or two to let his questions sink in. Men and women alike started to squirm in place. “Do we ever really ask ourselves these simple questions?” he continued. “Or perhaps these are not simple questions at all.”
Another interlude occurred as his full attention fell upon the gathering. “Each of us lives as if we have endless years ahead of us. But in reality, as witnessed here today, we can never know for certain just how long we have.” Attendees listened attentively to the words of the sermon. “The sting of death visited our dear friend Blake Helms in a most unexpected and untimely manner. The process of life that he so enjoyed was violently brought to an end.”
The message continued, filled to the brim with powerful, poignant, and particularly moving words, all along calling for deep reflection on the purpose of life. It ended with a directive to show kindness, consideration, and generosity to neighbors, friends, and coworkers. Even to strangers.
A fleeting hush fell over the crowd at the conclusion of the message, and Claire observed many wiping tears from their eyes. For those few moments, it was safe to say that all present—with the probable exception of the murderer, assuming he or she was there—felt a tidal wave of goodwill, compassion, and tenderheartedness toward their fellow man pass through their beings.
All joined in the singing of a hymn, “Amazing Grace,” and the ceremony ended. Attendees scattered in various directions.
SHERIFF BELL rounded up the afternoon crew, and the fingerprinting, palm printing, and DNA-saliva-collecting procedures started up again. He stood next to Claire and Guy, observing his major case team at work.
“The murderer was here today. At the service,” Claire said to the sheriff.
He looked at her, startled by the revelation. “What? How could you possibly know this?” He eyed her with great skepticism. “Please explain.”
“I have no doubt.” She looked determined.
The sheriff raised his eyebrows and shifted his gaze to Gaston Lombard, without words, demanding an explanation.
“Don’t question her,” Guy said. “She’s got … a gift.”
Sheriff Bell returned his eyes to Claire, and he continued to consider her with keen interest. He scratched his chin and squinted his eyes. Claire lifted the corners of her mouth slightly, knowing exactly what was going through his head. He didn’t believe in an inherent mental ability to perceive things by means other than the known senses. He thought it all a lot of mumbo jumbo.
“I see,” he said, “that again.” But he didn’t see at all.
“We plan to go over to Blake Helms’s apartment tomorrow and take a look around,” the sheriff said, “to see if we can find any clues to lead us to his murderer. Care to tag along? We could no doubt use the help.”
“Of course,” Guy said. “Plan on it.”
“Good. We’ll finish up here with what we have to do, and then we’ll let our lab start the comparison process with the information collected here today,” Sheriff Bell said. “Tomorrow morning, let’s meet here at the lodge—say, 9:00 a.m.? We’ll drive you over to the flat where Blake lived. There’s nothing more to do on the case till then.”
Jay Cantrell had sauntered over to the conversation and caught the last of it. He looked at Claire and Guy. “Sounds like you two can take a break this afternoon. Piper and I thought we might go horseback riding for a couple of hours. Care to join us?”
Claire and Guy looked at each other and then nodded to Jay.
“Sounds great!” Claire said.
“I’ll need to get my cowboy hat,” Guy said. “Where’s my horse, pardner?”
“Oh boy,” Jay said, rolling his eyes at Claire.
Things had remained somewhat tense between the quartet, and Claire thought riding as a couples’ activity might remind them all of the friendship they shared apart from the murder investigation.
“I want to grab my boots,” she said. “Can we meet you and Piper back here in fifteen minutes?”
“Make it a half hour. I’ll go pick Piper up,” Jay said. “There are some trails I want to show you.”
Claire and Guy walked to their room and changed into casual Western wear. Claire pulled on her red cowboy boots, and Guy donned his favorite bolo tie with a turquoise stone.
“I can’t remember when I last rode a horse,” Guy said. “Hope it’s not difficult.”
“It’s been a few years for me, too,” Claire said. “We should probably take it easy. Being saddle sore is not a pretty picture.”
THE FOURSOME met back at the lodge, ready to jump into the saddle and enjoy Big Sky Country the Western way. The day’s sky looked like an enormous artist’s canvas of bright, clear blue stretched across the heavens and splashed with a handful of fleecy white clouds. The temperature was in the low eighties, and the sun was radiant—a perfect day for riding.
“Come on,” Jay said. “The day’s a-wastin’.”
Jay looked dapper in his jeans, boots, cowboy hat, and elk antler bolo.
“We’re ready,” Claire said.
“Jump in the Suburban. We’ll drive over to the stable,” Jay said. “It’s on a piece of property I own not far from here. I have a man who takes care of that land, and I gave him a heads-up. He agreed to have four of our best quarter horses saddled up and ready to go. You’re in for a treat.”
Claire and Guy looked at each other and smiled. “Can’t wait,” they said in unison.
Piper was quiet, and Claire realized she still harbored anger about being included in the testing procedures.
After driving a few minutes, Jay turned the vehicle into a commercial-development area that housed a gas station, convenience store, office building, and yarn shop. The fine antique stagecoach on display near the convenience store garnered Guy’s attention as they passed by. The foursome made their way through the area and onto and up a bumpy, winding dirt road—Stage Ridge Road. At the top, Jay pulled up near an old farmhouse. A rustic barn greatly in need of a coat of white paint stood on the property, as did a corral brimming with quarter horses.
“They’re beautiful!” Claire announced. She looked from horse to horse as she spoke.
Jay pointed to an area just outside the enclosure. “These are the horses we’re riding today, a little more on the spirited side than the rest of ’em. They’re all saddled up—Western style, I might add—so you’ll have a pommel on the saddle in front of where you sit, to hang on to.”
“I might need that,” Guy said under his breath. “It’s been a while since …”
Jay chuckled.
“You’ll be fine, Guy,” Piper said. “Both you and Claire have ridden before, and actually, it’s a lot like riding a bike … You’ll see.”
The foursome alit from the vehicle and walked toward the readied horses. They stopped a few feet away to observe the animals at closer range.
Claire felt immediately drawn to the champagne-colored horse with white markings on his body, a white mane and tail, and greenish eyes. “I like this buff-colored one,” she said. As she spoke, the horse nudged its way closer to her and rubbed its nose gently on her shoulder. She stroked his face over and over. “Aren’t you a big baby,” she said.
“I’ve never seen anything like it,” Jay said. “He’s usually standoffish around strangers.” As he watched the interaction between Claire and the palomino paint, an amused expression took over his face. “Looks like you’ll be riding Whispering Spirit today, Claire. No question about it.”
“Guy, I’m putting you with Giddy Up, the grullo.” He pointed him out. “He’s the rarest color of quarter horse, and he’s got a great disposition. You two will get along fine.”
“What did you call the horse? Grew—what?” Guy asked, not sure he had heard the word correctly.
Jay laughed. “Grullo,” he repeated, pronouncing the word as grew-yo.
Guy thought he heard Piper emit a muffled chuckle, but he couldn’t be sure. The creature Jay indicated had a smoky—almost silvery—color, with a black mane and tail and black lower legs. He was a startlingly stunning animal with kind eyes.
“I’ll be riding Hawk of the Wind, the black horse, and Piper will ride Danny Boy, the light chestnut,” Jay continued.
“Use their names when you give them a command,” Piper said. “They like that.”
Claire smiled at her.
Jay looked at his friends. “Each of you spend a few minutes getting to know your horse,” he said. “Pet his nose, talk to him using a soothing voice, and allow him to smell you. Be calm and confident around your animal. A horse can tell if his rider is scared or nervous, and your attitude will have an effect on your horse. Oh, and another thing, don’t forget these are big animals. Always exercise caution and good common sense.”
Claire and Guy took the assignment seriously and did exactly what Jay had recommended. Ten minutes passed.
Jay mounted his horse and demonstrated to Claire and Guy how to sit—pulling his spine and lower back slightly in, holding the reins just so, and cueing the horse using his legs. “Always mount your ride from the left, and once you’re in the saddle, keep your center of gravity over the horse’s. That way, you’ll never fall off,” Jay said. “Let your legs relax, and position your knees flat against the saddle. And remember not to put too much of your boot in the stirrup. Best to keep your toes pointing a bit upwards and only have the balls of your feet resting on the stirrups. That way, should anything necessitate it, you can kick your feet out quickly.”
“The reins are held how?” Guy asked. “One more time.”
“Down and over the front of the saddle,” Jay said. “Don’t pull tightly on them, or the horse will think you want to stop. Instead, give the horse room to move. Kick your horse gently in the side and make a clucking sound with your tongue to get him to move.” He demonstrated. “Pressure from your left leg will signal your ride to move to his right; pressure from your right leg will signal your horse to move to his left. Also, our horses have learned to neck rein. So, holding the reins in one hand and simply moving the reins to the right—so that the left rein lies across the left side of the horse’s neck—will turn your horse to the right. The reverse is also true.”
“It sounds more complicated than it actually is,” Piper said. “You’ll see that it all comes quite naturally.”
“To stop, we pull the reins firmly back toward us, correct?” Claire asked.
“Yes. And say, ‘whoa,’” Piper explained.
“One last thing,” Jay said. “When you’re traveling uphill, lean forward in your saddle; when you are traveling downhill, lean back in the seat. This helps the horse keep its balance. Now, if we’re all ready …”
One by one, Piper, Claire, and Guy mounted their horses from the left, each placing their left foot in the stirrup and hoisting their right leg up and over the top of a magnificent gelding. At once, they settled into their saddles and grabbed the reins as instructed. Claire and Guy were a bit tense, but eager to see more of the Montana countryside. After all, the day was utopian. What could go wrong? Claire asked herself.
“All set?” Jay asked.
“Ready,” Claire said.
“Ready,” Guy said.
“Give your horse a soft kick into the sides with your heels to get going. Just as I showed you,” Jay said.
Claire gently kicked Whispering Spirit in the sides. He whinnied loudly and bolted off, like the wind, quickly moving from a trot to a canter to a full gallop within no time at all, his feet leaving the ground with each stride. Holding the reins in her right hand, she grabbed the pommel with both hands, thankful it was there. She desperately tried to keep her center balanced, as Jay had told them, but she found it was no easy task. It was as if Whispering Spirit had a mind of his own.
Guy was alarmed at what he saw. Piper, an obvious expert rider in full control of Danny Boy, rode off after Claire. In no time at all, Piper pulled ahead of Claire and took the lead. “Come on, follow me,” she yelled back, turning in her saddle to look behind. “Whispering Spirit is unusually frisky today. Hang on tightly.”
Guy gave Giddy Up a kick with his heels, and the horse walked off slowly in the direction Claire and Piper headed.
“Give him a stronger kick, Guy,” Jay instructed. “Sometimes he needs a little extra encouragement to get going.”
Guy followed instructions, and his horse at once picked up speed, trotting toward the others. Jay rode alongside Guy, sensing his apprehension with the situation.
“In a few minutes, you’ll have the feel of it, counselor,” Jay said, giving Guy a reassuring thumbs-up. “Claire will be just fine with Piper. Don’t worry.”
“No problem,” Guy said. He felt anxious, and he worried whether Claire was really okay. “It’s already coming back to me, Jay. Really.” Sensing that Jay was looking at him in a questioning manner, Guy said, “Let’s go, Giddy Up. Show me what you’ve got.”
Jay choked back laughter, seeing how stiff Guy was sitting in his saddle. It was easy to imagine Gaston Lombard dressed in a double-breasted suit, standing before a jury, but in Western garb, sitting on a horse—now, that was a different story.
Guy could now see Piper on Danny Boy and Claire on Whispering Spirit in the far-ahead distance. In the worst way, he wanted to be riding alongside Claire.
A half hour passed, and Piper and Claire slowed their horses to a trot and rode up to a clump of noble pines. They got off to wait for the others to catch up.
“This is exhilarating!” Claire said. “I can’t believe how much I’ve missed riding. I was terrified at first, but within a few minutes, I couldn’t get enough of it.” She stroked Whispering Spirit’s velvety nose. “You are a good horse, yes, you are.” The horse turned his large olive eyes toward Claire, and they stared at each other. She kissed him gently on the nose. “You have fierce courage. I like that.”
Whispering Spirit whinnied softly and threw his head back into the air.
“It’s addicting … this riding,” Piper said. “Follow me. There’s a mountain stream a few feet from here. Let’s walk our horses to it and let them drink.
Claire pulled the reins over her horse’s head and led him toward the water, following only steps behind Piper and Danny Boy. While the horses drank the cool spring refreshment, the women talked.
“You can never be too careful around horses, Claire. While they would never hurt you intentionally, something outside of their control can spook them and cause them to act irrationally. Always have an escape route—a way off the animal in your mind’s eye. A plan. Just in case something goes wrong.”
Claire listened intently to the warning from her friend. Then she changed the subject. “I’m sorry about the fingerprinting and other testing, Piper. I know you’re upset about it and furious with me. But that’s the drill in a murder investigation. There’s no way around it.” Piper did not respond. Claire paused to collect her thoughts. “How are you doing, Piper? I mean, how are you really doing? It’s been only a short time since Blake’s murder. How are you handling it?”
Piper’s silence continued for a time.
“If you don’t want to talk, I understand,” Claire said.
“Death is so final, Claire. I never had a chance to say … goodbye. I never got to thank him for being … my friend.” She looked at Claire with sad eyes.
“I’m sorry, Piper. I’m sorry that you lost your friend.”
In the worst way, Claire wanted to ask Piper if it were more than friendship, but the timing did not seem right. Just then, they heard the sound of approaching hoof beats. They turned their heads to see Guy and Jay riding up. Both men dismounted and led their horses to the water, a treat the creatures clearly welcomed.
Guy walked over to Claire and hugged her. “Are you all right?”
“I’m great. Couldn’t be better,” she said. “How about you?”
“Well, Giddy Up needs a little more oomph, if you know what I mean. He’s not the fastest horse in the world, but he’s also not the slowest. All in all, he’s a good ride. I’m enjoying myself, too. But your horse took off like a bat out of hell, Claire. I was worried.”
“It was a little touch-and-go at first, but it didn’t take me long to get into the swing of it.”
Jay pulled four small apples from his saddlebag. He handed one each to Claire, Guy, and Piper and kept the last for himself. “As soon as they stop drinking, we can give the horses a real delicacy. Hold the apple flat on the palm of your hand, like this, and let your horse take it from you.” He showed them the proper way. “You’ll have a friend for life.”
The horses sated themselves with water, and the riders presented each one with a sweet red treat.
After consuming his apple, out of the blue Whispering Spirit jerked his head high into the air, as if sensing something was amiss. He began to move his legs nervously in place, and he turned his head from side to side over and over again. A low whinny emanated from the jumpy creature.
“It’s okay, Whispering Spirit,” Claire said, using a soothing voice. “It’s okay.” She gently stroked his nose over and over.
“Wish I knew what’s spooking him,” Piper said. “He seems kind of wild today.”
“Maybe he smells a bear or deer in the area,” Jay suggested. “That will do it. Or he might have seen something unfamiliar that scares him.”
“I don’t know,” Claire said. “This came on fast.”
“Well, whatever it is, he seems to be quieting down now. Are we ready to ride again?” Jay asked. “We still have some time.”