Chapter Eight
Brass pulled up to the Las Luces Brillantes Ranch owned by the state's governor. Jim knew the place well because he'd had to coordinate security for when the governor was having one of his "round ups" as he called it for big name celebrities to have a party weekend with a so-called Wild West flavor to it. It wasn't in his job description but when "favors got called in" he was the one tapped to make it happen. He told himself just a few more years, Jim boy, and you can retire with your pension and finish your cabin on that little cove off Lake Mead. He spied a young kid carrying a bucket and lowered his driver's window.
"Hey, is that the way to the stables? I'm Detective Jim Brass from the LVPD," he asked the kid while flashing his badge.
"Yes, sir," the kid pointed to a group of buildings that refreshed Brass' memory and he now saw horses in outside runs or going inside.
"Thanks," Brass said and headed his Dodge Charger toward the stables.
He saw the emerald green with gold trim Ford Excursion Limited parked by the main stable building. The Texas personalized license plate said "D-STARS" and was inside a Dallas Stars hockey plate frame. Decal stickers on the rear window said Got Puck?, Got Stick?, Got Hockey? Hockey Chick on Board! Other Dallas Stars decals also adorned the glass.
"Well, now, we have a serious puck girl here," Brass said aloud while scratching his chin in surprise. Another sneezing cough took him which he attributed to the dusty air he found himself in. He refused to consider the direction it might be headed in.
The trainer he'd seen with Colonel Quinn at the LVPD was standing by the entrance of the stable, glaring at his watch as Jim approached him and cleared his throat to get the trainer's attention.
"I'm Detective Brass from the…" Jim started to say.
"You and that investigator were expected sooner. The colonel won't like this," the trainer interrupted with an aggrieved expression.
"Look, pal, we got here as quick as we could! We do things proper and by the book, so the colonel being a military man will appreciate that. So, who are you and where's Investigator King?" Brass asked with upraised hands.
"I'm Marcus Baxter, the colonel's head horse trainer and main handler of his stallions. The investigator is already inside. The colonel's veterinarian will be here shortly. He had a, shall we say, long night in town," the trainer replied and his haughty air wasn't lost on Brass.
It could only mean the vet was hung over and getting his act together before coming to the stable Brass decided.
"Okay, Mr. Baxter, if you'll lead me to the, uh, scene of the alleged crime," Brass requested with a you-go-first move of his hand toward the stable.
Inside the 16' x 16' stall, Brass saw a large reddish-brown horse crumpled on the straw. Iris was taking a photograph when Brass announced himself. "Good morning, I followed my nose."
Iris looked up at him. "Well, I'll grant you have a hint of a proboscis so that could hold true."
"A prob..a what?" Jim inquired.
"It's not an insult, Detective, just noting you do have something of a prominent nose, which is a proboscis, so…," Iris began to reply.
"Hells bells, are you trying to be another Grissom? We only need the one," Jim snapped irritably, partly because he was bone-tired and partly not feeling a hundred percent.
"No, I was just answering your question, Detective," Iris replied quietly before resuming her picture taking. She wasn't going to let this man get her upset. It had been distracting enough to meet him how they had in the first place. They had been positioned to schtup as she called it in front of God and everybody. That kind of rattling she didn't need.
"Okay, pal, what happened here?" Jim changed his focus of attention to Marcus.
Iris shouldered her camera so she could hear again what Baxter had told her.
"As I informed Ms. King, I came in to do Winner's feeding. I see to the stallion's every need when we're away from the horse farm. When I entered the stable, I noticed Winner didn't have his head poking through the stall's upper door. He loves to eat and I knew right away something was wrong," Marcus said and looked to be near tears at this point.
"I was told the stallion's here to get busy with one of the mares, right? I did a little research on my way here, so why didn't this get done the new way with frozen stuff?" Brass asked as he took notes.
"The colonel doesn't subscribe to the use of frozen semen if that's what you mean. He prefers his stallions cover mares the traditional way, but this mare just came into heat and the governor was reluctant to fly her to Kentucky so as not to stress her," Marcus replied with a roll of his eyes.
"He's a handsome blood bay with black points and stockings. What a pity but how has the stallion's health been? Any recent illness or change in eating habits?" Iris now asked.
"Marcus said the vet's on his way here," Jim interjected.
"The detective is correct and Dr. Robles can better respond to questions, but Winner hasn't had any recent illness I'm aware of," Marcus declared.
"I'd like to you to gather anyone who was working last night who would've had access to the stables so I can interview other possible witnesses," Brass instructed Marcus.
"I'll see to it immediately, Detective," Marcus promised was turning to leave when a silver tabby cat went by him to try and enter the stall. The trainer knelt down and picked up a rock that he flung at the cat.
The cat's reaction was a startled hiss with arched back before it fled down the main hall to another stall. Iris didn't approve of any animal being mistreated and let that be known straight off.
"Why did you try to hit that poor cat with a rock? I don't think Detective Brass tolerates animal cruelty any more than I and you did that in front of a law enforcement officer," Iris protested vehemently.
"No, Investigator King, I don't tolerate that in the least," Brass said with a warning look at Baxter.
"It's just a stupid barn cat that's Winner's stable mate. Damn stray just showed up out of the blue one morning and was found in Winner's stall. I'd found the cat sleeping on his backside more than once or kneading him before lying down on the horse's rump near the tail. I detest cats and wish Winner's choice had been a dog or anything else, so I'd discourage that animal's presence at every turn. Winner was attached and the colonel ordered the cat be brought along to help keep the stallion calm," Baxter retorted before he left them.
"Y'know, Iris, not everyone likes cats," Jim commented.
"I get that but he's still a totally arrogant jerk-off," Iris said and her emphasis on the last word got Brass to chuckle. She took her camera out to resume taking photos.
"Agree with you there but I'm used to my crime victims having two legs and not four. I've had doubts over past cases of how the murderer walked on two. Still, I have something in common with this victim here," Brass remarked.
"Really, what would that be?" Iris queried, lowering her camera, and he knew he had curiosity piqued.
"We both used to be studs, and this guy's hung like a…er…well, it's obvious isn't it?" Brass joked while looking a bit enviously at the stallion's genitalia even in a relaxed state before he found himself receiving a head to toe look from Iris. Her eyes were a soft brown just then as her head cocked to the right slightly while her scrutiny continued.
"I wouldn't say used to be, Jim Brass, because you're still a virile specimen of masculinity," Iris declared in such a serious tone that he found himself grinning.
"I'll take that as a positive endorsement from the fair sex and that there's still hope for someone like me," he smirked.
"Where there's life, there's hope," Iris quoted. "Jim, you know I have a horse, right?"
"Yeah, Nick mentioned it and you brought it with you," Brass nodded. "You're probably a big animal lover then?"
"Kyrie is my horse's name and I have two retired police bloodhounds, Cyrano and Durante," Iris said with a faint smile, "but Animal Planet is a favorite channel."
"Blood hounds? Now that you'll have to explain that to me some time," Brass said in surprise.
"I will soon," Iris promised.
"Okay, well, let's see if the vet's made it here and Baxter's found some prospective staff I can chat with so I'll leave you to exercise your investigative expertise," Jim said and made his exit.
"He still hasn't called me Iris," she said to herself and found the silver tabby cat had returned with an inquisitive meow. "Hello, here to see your friend?"
The cat went directly to the corpse of the horse and jumped up onto the prone form on one hindquarter. The cat immediately went into a kneading motion near the root of the tail as if to try and rouse the horse, confirming to Iris what Baxter had stated.
"I'm sorry, little one, that won't help him," Iris sighed and petted the cat as its back arched in pleasure. She went out to the Excursion to briefly to retrieve her jam box so she could listen to music as she processed the scene.
Brass returned after doing a preliminary interview of staff that had been at the ranch during the night. The veterinarian was on his way but had been delayed when his rental car had a flat. He decided to see where Iris was with her investigation. As he came into the stable, he heard music playing and a female voice singing in duet with the song's male singer. To his surprise, it was coming from the stall Iris was working. He hung back a few feet to hear the song:
"Well, I know there's a reason/And I know there's a rhyme/We were meant to be together/And that's why/We can roll with the punches/We can stroll hand in hand
And when I say it's forever/You understand/That you're always in my heart/You're always on my mind/But when it all becomes too much/You're never far behind/And there's no one/That comes close to you/Could ever take your place/
'Cause only you can love me this way."
Brass then heard Iris say instead of sing in a tone he found wistful: "Tell me, Keith. I could have turned a different corner/I could have gone another place/Then I'd of never had this feeling/That I feel today, yeah/And you're always in my heart/Always on my mind/When it all becomes too much/You're never far behind."
He rapped on the stall door to indicate his presence. "Hey."
Iris looked up startled before her head dropped a moment in embarrassment. "Uh, hey, please tell me you didn't hear me singing."
"You sing good so why hide it? I've seen people do stranger things at a crime scene," Brass reasoned.
"Well, it might seem out of place but music helps me focus when I'm doing this. If I can't sing then I'll hum so would either bother you for when we work together in the future?" Iris wanted to be sure they would be on the same page from here on out. She moved to turn off the boom box.
"Nope, it sounds nice actually," Brass shrugged. "You sing professionally?"
"Oh, heavens no, I just do it at church or home or in the car," Iris laughed and Jim found himself liking the slight musical quality it had.
"So you any idea of a cause or time of death since the vet's not here yet? I spoke with one of the stable workers who last checked on the horses around midnight. The staff I've spoken with all claim to have alibis but we'll get that established," Brass redirected themselves back to the victim.
"I'd say within the last four to six hours. No rigor of the extremities. The veterinarian will do a necropsy, but I've taken samples for our lab to process on our own. I'm sure the colonel will want another lab to have as a second opinion and with his deep pockets, he'll get a quick turnaround on an answer," Iris surmised.
"Our crime lab'll have just as quick turnaround with reliable results," Brass informed her confidently and pride could be heard in his voice.
Baxter returned just then accompanied by a shorter man wearing sunglasses who he now introduced. "This is Dr. Mike Robles, our staff veterinarian."
To Brass, this guy still smelled of vodka, likely wearing the sunglasses to cover photosensitive bloodshot eyes.
"Dr. Robles, I'm Detective Jim Brass and this is Investigator Iris King. We're from the LVPD and have been assigned this case at the colonel's request," Brass did his own introduction, Iris glancing at him in mild surprise to be addressed as more than Investigator King.
"It's a pleasure to meet you both. What's been done thus far?" Dr. Robles said absently before his question and pointed at Winner.
"I've processed the stall and taken samples of the straw, remaining feed and water as well as wood from the walls. I've also taken routine samples of blood, saliva, fecal, tissue and hair from the horse. My tape measurements give me a gross height of 17 hands with an approximate weight of eleven hundred pounds," Iris summarized for the veterinarian.
"You've got his height and weight right. I've made arrangements for a necropsy to be done at a laboratory in Vegas. The truck will be here within the hour to take Winner there," Dr. Robles told them all.
"Was Winner current on all required vaccinations, in general good health, had a clean Coggins test?" Iris asked the veterinarian.
"Of course he was current on the required vaccinations and horses require a negative Coggins test before they can be transported anywhere. He had a recent upper respiratory infection but antibiotics took care of that!" Dr. Robles exclaimed as if Iris were questioning his professional capacity.
"How recent was that?" Iris continued to ask while taking more notes.
"It was what, Marcus, about two weeks ago?" Dr. Robles turned to the trainer.
"Yes, I'd say that," Baxter confirmed.
"You judged Winner was fit for air travel from Kentucky to here?" Brass now asked, and Iris' slight head nod told him he was right to query.
"Yes, yes and yes, Detective. I declared the horse medically fit to travel. The colonel would likely have me whipped if I misdiagnosed Winner!" Dr. Robles insisted before adding. "I've other matters related to the necropsy if you'll excuse me!"
The veterinarian made a hasty exit.
"The colonel doesn't like to wait so don't blame Dr. Robles. The man ought to give his staff credit once in a while, " Marcus said bitterly.
"Difficult boss I take it…hard to please?" Brass said sympathetically.
"Gavin's pride and joy was Winner and when Winner was found, he started to accuse everyone in sight, starting with me. He was in a rage, said we were all incompetent, that someone had murdered his best horse to get back at him. Gavin promised we'd all pay," Marcus replied.
"Sounds like anyone might have an axe to grind," Jim observed.
"How long have you worked for the colonel?" Iris queried.
"Too long now I think but to answer your question fifteen years," Marcus sighed. "Detective Brass, you have a list of our personnel as well as the governor's who worked last night. Do you require anything else right now?"
"No but we'll be in touch," Jim said and the trainer left as quickly as the veterinarian had.
"I'll get these samples back to the lab and request a rush on processing," Iris said and placed what she'd collected into a large clear plastic tub and then got her jam box.
"Here, I'll carry that," Brass insisted.
"Ah, male chivalry isn't extinct," Iris remarked.
"Well, some women are quick to say they're liberated and don't want that stuff done so it's hard for us guys to know," Jim retorted.
"Point taken, mon capitan, but I for one do appreciate it, merci," Iris said with a playful arm nudge as they approached the Excursion.
"That's a helluva big vehicle for a short person like you to drive," Jim observed as she opened the rear door for him to place the bin in. He noted she had a well stocked large investigation box with labels to identify its contents kit besides the smaller case she carried.
"Well, having Kyrie I need something suitable to pull his trailer and I was a youth group sponsor at my Dallas church, so this bad boy gets me where I need to be," Iris replied while patting the SUV.
"I take it you're into hockey too," Brass noted, pointing at her license plate and the rear window decals after he'd closed the door.
"Yeah, it ticked off my husband when the Stars moved to Dallas in '93. He had his Cowboys and Mavericks, and Indy hadn't had a team since the Racers folded in '78," Iris popped off and then she looked down for several moments.
"Hey, Nick told us what happened to him, I'm sorry," Jim tried to apologize.
"No worries, Jim, it was a long time ago and I'm over it. I try not to think of him because that wasn't a good time in my life," Iris said lightly. "You ought to go see your doctor because that's a junky cough you got there. See you back at the lab."
Brass watched her maneuver the big SUV with ease as she waved and headed back to the main drive to leave the ranch. He returned the wave but she left him curious to know more about her.
Grissom was going over a case file when Iris knocked on his door. He glanced up and was motioning her in when Iris saw someone seated across from him. She determined the person to be female given the body shape and long brownish blond hair.
"Uh, Griss, sorry to bother you, I can come back," Iris offered.
"Come on in, Iris, I'd like you to meet Riley Adams, our newest CSI," Grissom said pleasantly. He had to introduce the two women at some point so it might as well be now and to see how they interacted. Riley was unaware of the circumstances regarding her hiring and that of Iris.
"Hiya, Riley, great to meet you, I'm new here myself from Dallas. I was hired for the swing team and I'm sure our paths will cross. Griss, I turned in all the samples from the "all the king's horses" case to the lab for processing. I'm going to try and get in to observe the necropsy over when I find out where it's being done ," Iris informed him.
"All the king's horses?" Riley interrupted with a blank look.
"That's just what I dubbed the first case I'm working here," Iris said, "it's from…"
"Let me hazard a guess here, Iris, and tell me if I'm wrong," Grissom interrupted and then quoted. "All the king's horses and all the king's men couldn't put Humpty together again."
"You win a spread for the team that I'll prepare in the near future, so let me know what food to make," Iris pointed at him with a grin and walked out.
"If she's on swing shift, why is she reporting to you?" Riley asked.
"Rich Bailey is the swing supervisor but he's still out with the flu, so for now I've agreed to oversee any case administrative duties for his team to help his assistant Betty who's new to the position," Grissom replied while in the back of his mind he began to consider what Iris might make for the spread. Nick's comments of her cooking abilities would be put to the test.
Iris had finished for the day and was going toward the locker area when she heard a series of explosive sneezes and deep coughing coming from an office with glass walls. She couldn't make out the person whose face was buried in a handkerchief but poked her head in to say, "God bless you! That's some sneezing, is your nose still on?"
The handkerchief lowered and she was facing Jim Brass. "Yeah, my proboscis is attached. That's my word of the day, y'know. I gotta get some more handkerchiefs, these get polluted fast."
"Why won't you get checked out? That could be bronchitis or even pneumonia," Iris admonished gently.
"I don't like going to doctors, okay! I've been in a hospital one too many times," Brass snorted with a pained look. The handkerchief was monogrammed with his initials of JB Iris silently noted after her initial observation earlier.
"Well, a nurse practitioner could look you over if you're phobic about doctors," Iris tried a different tactic, now recalling Brass had been shot and what a stressor that had been for Nick and his team mates.
"If she's wearing one of those sexy outfits with white stiletto heels, then I might. You know nurses like cops and treat 'em right," Jim seemed to consider with a weak wolf whistle.
"My nursing license is good here in Nevada but it's as a licensed vocational nurse, so I couldn't prescribe you anything," Iris informed him with a wink. "You want to go get some lunch?"
"Well, if I never need a personal nurse that's good to know and while I appreciate your offer of lunch I'm headed home," Brass declined politely.
"Fine, some other time then," Iris said and headed on down the hallway, thinking to herself "Sheesh, I didn't ask him out on a date."