Simpatico's Gift

by Frank Martorana

  “Richard buzzed me, too,” Arthur said to his wife, and then to his guests he said, “It’s wonderful to have you here. How was your trip? Come in and have a drink and something to eat.”

  The next hour was spent visiting and getting settled into rooms. The adults had regrouped in Elaine’s wide-open country kitchen when the girls bounced in.

  “I am going to show Maria the lake,” Emily said. When Kent gave her a scowl, she turned to Elaine. “That is, if it’s okay with you, Mrs. Kelsey.”

  Elaine nodded a smile to Em and a wink to her father.

  Arthur seemed to be in no hurry to ultrasound his mares. Kent let him set the pace as they ambled toward the barns. Lucinda ranged ahead, happily exploring every bush and culvert along the way.

  “Aside from Solar Wind, things must be going pretty well at Keuka View,” Kent said. “I mean, really, I see a new pool even with your lakefront and a new wing on the barn? Such opulence.”

  Arthur gave a short sad laugh. “They were going well until, as you say, Solar Wind disappeared.”

  “Right. I hear you.”

  “We need more barn space for mares coming in to breed. The pool is for Elaine.”

  Kent eyed the barn as it came into view around the bend. Two long buildings ran parallel, joined in the middle by a breeding shed and office. Neatly groomed lawn and shrubbery appointed it. Except for the area excavated around the new addition, the entire estate was groomed perfectly.

  The sonograms proceeded uneventfully as the hired men lead up mare after impressive mare to be examined. Kent extended his gloved arm — ultrasound probe in hand — into each one’s rectum, viewed the uterus on a monitor for a few moments, and confirmed the presence of a healthy fetus.

  At noon, Emily and Maria appeared with lunch. It was in a wicker basket the size of a laundry basket.

  “Mrs. Kelsey knew you guys wouldn’t stop for lunch, so she sent us down with some sandwiches and a jug of lemonade,” Emily said.

  “I married well,” Arthur said, and took the basket from her. He pointed down the alleyway. “Let’s eat in the office. It’s air-conditioned.”

  As the four of them walked through the quiet barn, their voices echoed as if they were in a cave.

  Arthur said, “I was looking for an excuse to take a break. I can’t work like your dad anymore. You ladies see the sights?”

  “Yes, we did,” Maria said. “Your farm is fantastic.”

  “Oh, yeah? What makes you say that?” Arthur drew out the compliments.

  “For one thing, the shoreline is like something in a magazine. I love that seawall! Why did you put in a pool? The dock is perfect for swimming.”

  “Elaine wanted it. She’s got some problems in the joints. Swimming seems to help. The lake is okay for playing, but not so good for serious swimming. Plus, since the pool will be heated, it’ll extend the season a lot.”

  They took seats around a heavy oak table in Arthur’s office. Lucinda retreated to a corner with a bone the size of a man’s wrist that Elaine had included in the basket.

  Kent’s eyes were drawn to an oil painting of a horse. It hung on the wall just above their heads. He’d never paid much attention to it before, but now the brilliant eyes of the dark stallion grabbed him and held. The horse stood like a lord studying his subjects — neck crested, chest out. It was Solar Wind. Kent felt his heart sink as he admired the painting. Such a loss.

  Arthur followed Kent’s gaze, and momentarily stopped passing out sandwiches. “He’s something special, isn’t he?”

  “Yes, he is.”

  “He sired a lot of nice foals, too.”

  “He’s a pillar of the New York Bred Program. We owe him a lot.”

  “Thanks for saying so. I’m very proud of that fact. For Elaine and me, it’s like we’ve lost a child.”

  “The hedge goes all the way around the farm, doesn’t it?” Kent said.

  Arthur put a potato chip in his mouth, and took his time chewing and swallowing it, weighing the abrupt change of subject. He answered cautiously, knowing Kent’s mind had returned to Solar Wind’s disappearance.

  “Yes. Except along the beach.”

  “It goes around the whole compound?”

  “Uh-huh. All of the land we use for the horses is within the hedge. About fifteen acres. All of our buildings, too. We have a few hay fields and the vineyard outside of it.”

  “You lease most of your vineyard to one of the big growers, right?”

  “Right. But they stay outside the perimeter. That hedge is, for all intents and purposes, an impenetrable barricade. My father wanted all his possessions under one roof, so to speak. I added the gateman when we got into Thoroughbreds. Someone is on duty twenty-four hours a day. I thought we were well ahead of the security curve, and it was working great — until it wasn’t.”

  Kent glanced out a window, studied a section of the hedge. This time of year it looked like a billowing cloud of pink blossoms, but the eight-foot high, four-foot thick entanglement of thorns and ropey stems was a formidable barrier to anything larger than a stray cat.

  Arthur rambled in the dazed way of one baffled by defeat, all the time his eyes on the painting of Solar Wind. “The hedge forms three sides of a rectangle, and the lakefront is the fourth. The main gate, of course, is up on the highway, and there is a smaller gate on each of the other two short sides. They’re chained and locked at night and only the gateman, Richard, and I have keys.”

  “Do you have any kind of an alarm system?”

  “Fire alarms? Everywhere. For intruders? There’s an alarm system in the house and office, and motion detectors along the shoreline. But nothing in the barns. We do night watch instead.”

  “Really?” Emily said, curiosity obvious on her face. “I didn’t see any security stuff on the beach.”

  “It’s pretty well hidden, I don’t like looking at it. But if you look closely, you’ll see the sensors in the shrubbery. We installed it several years ago when we had problems with patio furniture and some other stuff disappearing from the beach. The police figured it was probably kids coming in on boats at night.”

  Kent took one of Elaine’s homemade chocolate chip cookies.

  “So if anyone crossed onto your property from the lake it would trigger the alarm?”

  “Right.”

  “Who would be alerted?”

  “Richard and I have monitors in our houses, and there is one in the gate house.”

  “Is it a reliable system? I mean, pretty hard to breech?”

  Arthur shrugged. “If you talk to the sales reps it is. It was supposedly the best on the market. Who knows? I think any of them can be disarmed. As far as the police could tell, there is no evidence that it was tampered with.”

  “You’d know if Solar Wind had been walked through it, right?”

  “Absolutely. But the police considered it a possibility anyway. They thought maybe he got loose from his stall, jumped into the water, and drowned. Absurd, if you know horses, but they combed the shore for hoof prints. None. The insurance company even hired a boat with underwater cameras to search the area. Nothing.”

  “What about closed circuit televisions?”

  “Only in the foaling stalls to monitor the mares. Not for security. A watchman makes rounds every two hours.”

  “Do you trust the gateman? What’s his name?”

  “Richard Parker. Been here since he was a boy. His dad worked in the winery for my dad. He was a few years behind me in school. Rich is as honest as the day is long.”

  “He works the night shift?”

  “Midnight to eight. He was about to go off when you arrived this morning.”

  Kent washed down his lunch with a long drink of lemonade. “How the heck could anyone get a horse out of here?”

  A small silence ensued. No one answered.

&nbs
p; Finally, Kent tossed his napkin into the trash, basketball style. “What do you think? Should we get back to work?”

  “I guess so,” Arthur groaned, and stood stiffly. “Another hour or so and we’ll have it licked.”

  “Maybe less if we can get some work out of these girls,” Kent said.

  Emily gave him an exaggerated frown.

  Maria nudged her with an elbow. “We’ll help.”

  CHAPTER 16

  “Quit your grousing,” Arthur said to Kent, as the group strolled back toward the car. “They beat you fair and square.”

  It had been Arthur’s suggestion that they catch the afternoon horse races at Lake Country Raceway, and, of course, everyone had agreed enthusiastically. Kent and Emily had not yet been to the races this season, and it would be a first for Maria.

  “I can’t believe it,” Kent said, then made a grunting noise loud enough that they could all hear him. “I studied the program before each race. I was analytical, objective, calculating. Maria and Emily picked their horses because they liked their name, or color, or — whatever, for Pete’s sake — and they did better than I did. They won more than I did. I ask you, is that fair?”

  “There is no justice in horseracing,” Arthur said. “Do an extra dog spay when you get home. You’ll make it up.”

  “Thanks for your sympathy. My price for ultrasounds is going up next week.”

  Emily, Maria, and Elaine joined in the tease until they reached the car. Then Kent swung the subject to evade the bombardment.

  “Seriously. You know what impressed me the most today? There are a lot of Kentucky bred horses coming up here to run, and the New York breds are doing great against them. That’s pretty good evidence that the New York Program is going strong.”

  “Absolutely,” Arthur said.

  Kent felt a sense of pride. The industrial North, long ravaged by the lure of the sunbelt, was rising again, to use the southerners’ phrase.

  They drove through the gate at Keuka View as a furious sunset silhouetted the west hill vineyards and sent lines of orange glistening across the water.

  “I could use a swim before dinner,” Kent said. “It’s either that or a nap.”

  Elaine glanced at her watch. “Okay, but we’re due at the Keuka Mist pier at eight o’clock. That gives us just over an hour. Better make it quick.”

  “Sounds good to me, too,” Emily said.

  “I’m in,” Maria said.

  A limb-flailing charge off the pier, a few strokes out, and a dive to wash away the racetrack dust. The cold, clear lake water erased any need for a nap. Kent and the girls passed the shampoo around and sent soft white suds drifting along the surface when they submerged to rinse. They called and coaxed Lucinda, until finally, even she plunged in.

  Kent perched himself on the pier, with his feet still dangling in the water. He stroked Lucinda’s dripping coat and watched the girls swim. Maria burst to the surface through the foam, shaking back her black hair, and sending crystalline droplets into the water around her. She swam to the pier, and with a powerful scissors kick, she heaved herself up. The effort delineated her youthful muscles beneath cinnamon skin. She folded herself over the edge, inadvertently displaying smooth buttocks and thighs. Kent tore his glance away. He stood quickly, and whipped his damp towel across his shoulder with a force that bordered on self-flagellation.

  “I’ll meet you up top,” he shouted over his shoulder as he turned to go. “Come on, Lucinda, let’s get out of here.” He trudged up the hill, longing for Aubrey.

  At eight on the dot they parked at the Hammondsport pier. Docked alongside, and bathed in floodlights, floated the Keuka Mist. She was snow-white with two open decks appointed in brass and teak. A huge black stack belched smoke and an orange paddle wheel fifteen feet in diameter idled at her stern. She was a perfect replica of the steamer that traversed Keuka Lake between Hammondsport and Penn Yan in the late 1800s. Walking up her gangway was like crossing back in time.

  Throughout the evening, Kent, the two girls, and the Kelseys dined on the top deck, and enjoyed a nautical tour of the vineyards, the bluff, and the elegant homes along Keuka Lake’s shoreline. When they sailed passed Keuka View, guests at nearby tables oohed and aahed. Emily and Maria directed teasing giggles at Elaine and Arthur when they overheard one woman spreading a rumor that Billy Joel recently bought the farm.

  But then, gazing at his estate, Author washed away the humor. “Strange how peaceful it looks from here. Who could have imagined?”

  All five of them stared at the farm across the water. Each harbored their own thoughts.

  “New York’s top three stallions out of commission. One of them from right there,” he said.

  Kent took a sip of wine. “Sounds like you’re connecting the three.”

  Arthur shrugged. “What do you think? Do you suppose they could be related?”

  “How?” Elaine asked. “Why?”

  “Who would benefit?” Arthur asked. “Nobody that I can think of. That’s the problem.”

  Kent slowly rotated his glass and watched the light play through the wine. “Well, we’d better figure it out pretty soon. We’ve got a lot at stake.”

  The clock down the hall struck three. Kent hadn’t slept a wink. He reached down and stroked Lucinda who was dead to the world beside the bed. None of his usual techniques for lulling himself into drowsiness worked. The best he could do was get to that uncomfortable plane of consciousness where worry dominates. He tossed. His skin tingled. He climbed out of bed and crept along the hall to the bathroom, hoping that stretching his legs and emptying his bladder would re-set his mind. He took a sip of water and a few Tums, even though he figured his agitation was way beyond indigestion from the rich food they’d eaten on the Keuka Mist. On the way back to his room, he peeked in on Maria and Emily. He couldn’t see them through the darkness, but heard their slumberous duet.

  Back in his room he stared out at the lake for a few minutes, then climbed back into bed. Immediately, the fretfulness demons renewed their attack. He groaned, fluffed up the pillows, and folded his arms behind his head.

  “All right, you want to think? Then think,” he whispered, and gave his mind a free rein. Instantly it fixed on Arthur Kelsey’s missing horse.

  He rehashed the facts surrounding Solar Wind’s disappearance — excellent security, no ransom note, no known enemies. Was the horse alive or dead? How did they get him out of the compound? Kent rolled each piece of the case over and over in his mind without finding a way to fit them together.

  “There has to be more,” he mumbled, then rolled onto his side, sighed heavily, and closed his eyes.

  Suddenly, his eyes snapped open. He sat up, fully awake. They, whoever they were, did not breach the security system at all. No way could someone get a horse out of there without detection. They must have kept Solar Wind inside the compound! How could anyone do that? Where could they hide a horse?

  Maybe they’d stashed him in some secret temporary stall in one of the accessory buildings for a few days, then smuggled him out later. No, there were no such out buildings in the compound. None remote enough that anyone could rely on it for a hiding place. Besides, stallions made a lot of noise. He could be tranquilized. But you’d still have the problem of where to hide him. A retired and forgotten horse van? Maybe, but pretty risky. No, it would be just about impossible to hide a live horse in a fifteen-acre compound when a dozen or more people were searching for him.

  Kent considered the other heinous option. What if they killed Solar Wind? How could anyone kill such an animal? For what reason? That’s not the point. What if they did kill him for whatever reason? How? It was not easy to kill a horse quickly and quietly. Even then, there would be blood or evidence of a struggle. Suddenly, the awful day flashed into his mind when he folded back the tarp and was faced with the revolting image of Simpatico’s cold staring eyes.<
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  The vision startled him. “Jesus,” he said, then forced the thought from his mind. Say they did kill Solar Wind somehow. Then what? Where would they dispose of a twelve hundred pound body? Winch him onto a truck? Hide him under a tarp or plywood or something like that? Maybe they could sneak him through the front gate. Maybe even under a load of sand or dirt. There must have been trucks entering and leaving on a regular basis as part of the construction project for the pool and barn addition. What about burying the body? Couldn’t do that with a hand shovel. It takes a big hole to bury a horse. The new construction again. Under the pool or the barn addition? Could they do that? Could someone bury a horse by hand in just a few minutes? They could if the hole was already dug. And, if nobody was going to be the least bit suspicious of disturbed earth. Hell, there would have been mud and ruts and freshly dug soil all over the place. What if they walked Solar Wind next to the foundation hole, killed him, and rolled him in. In next to no time they could throw and landslide a foot or two of dirt over the body and no one would be the wiser. What stage was the construction work at when Solar Wind disappeared?

  He had a lot of questions for Arthur in the morning. The killed and buried theory was plausible. How could he prove or disprove it?

  He finally drifted off to sleep with his arm dangling down to Lucinda.

  CHAPTER 17

  Kent was out of bed the second he heard Elaine rustling around in the kitchen. He reminded himself to exercise self-control, that Solar Wind’s burial in the compound was a long shot, and, from the Kelsey’s standpoint, it would be a dreadful solution to the mystery. Show some sensitivity. Nevertheless, his stomach fluttered with anticipation.

  Elaine greeted him as he entered the kitchen. “My, you’re up and about early. I thought you’d sleep in.”

  He lied. “You know how it is. Your biorhythms say ‘time to get up’ no matter what.”

  “I know. Except it’s more my arthritis than my biorhythms.” She handed him a cup of coffee, and said as a suggestion, “Nice morning for a walk along the lake.”