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Elaine let out a long sigh of relief. “Mr. Burchitt—Jim—I don’t know how to thank you. I’ll bring up what you need to get started and arrange for a trailer to bring the animals—”
“No need. Come with me.”
He rose to his feet and led the way to an area behind the house. “Still got a hitch on that pickup?” he asked as they walked.
“Yes.”
“Then take the trailer.” In a corner of the yard a two-horse trailer sat in the shade.
“It’s all insured. Back up your vehicle and we’ll get it hitched up.”
Jim helped her attach the trailer and stood back to mop his face with a yellow handkerchief. “There’s one more cost,” he said.
“What’s that?” Elaine asked warily.
“When you come up here you sit for a half-hour and chat.”
She laughed. “Of course I will.” She touched his arm. “I’d be happy to. How come we don’t know each other?”
Jim frowned and looked away. “When your granddaddy and I were close, you were away at college and then busy getting married. Then something happened and we didn’t see much of each other after that.”
“I see.” She didn’t really see, but a closed expression had come over the old man’s face and she didn’t want to press him, so left her questions for another time.
Jim waved goodbye as she left an hour and another glass of lemonade later. She knew there was a silly grin on her face as she rounded the first bend on her way back to her property. Things were looking up. The help from the insurance agent and Jim Burchitt had been enough to raise her spirits. Quinn would be back, maybe tomorrow, and together they would fight the developers and win. She started to hum a song as she shifted gears for the downhill slope. She’d make yet another sandwich and do her calculations while she ate. Then she’d load the horses on her own if she had to, deliver them to Jim and wait for Quinn.
The mention of her grandfather brought to mind one of the songs he loved to sing while he worked. “He is my heart’s delight,” she hummed. How did it go on?
Something like “where he is, I want to be”.
The shadows were short under the midday sun as she turned into her driveway with the trailer and pulled up short. Another horse box filled the turning circle in front of the house and a man in jodhpurs paced along the paddock rail. A girl of about ten, also in riding kit, was leading one of the boarded horses to the gate. When he saw the pickup the man strode toward her before she had even switched off the ignition. Where were Marnie and Shelly? They were usually conscientious about waiting for her to be home before they left for the day.
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Elaine pulled on the parking brake and got out of the pickup. The man was the owner of one of her boarded horses and she offered her hand in greeting, just about to tell him she’d found alternative accommodation.
He ignored her hand and stood in front of her, hands clasped behind his back.
“Here you are at last,” he barked. “I didn’t want to take the horse without letting you know, but I don’t have much time.” His daughter reached the gate with her horse.
“We’ll take them both,” the man plowed on. “I have a note here from the other owner giving me permission to remove his animal too.” He fished in a pocket and his eyes flicked to the burned-out stable. “Since you are no longer able to care for them, there will be no problem in breaking the contracts.” He rocked back on his heels.
Her good mood evaporated like morning mist. “I’ve been in town obtaining some funds to keep going and finding stabling for all four horses,” she began, determined to keep her chin from wobbling and making a fool of herself by crying from frustration. “I can continue with our contract.”
“So sue me,” he retorted. “I won’t change my mind. Too many stories going around about this place even before this. And even after the fire which could have killed them all, you leave them unattended.” He moved to open the door of the trailer. “Lead him in, Gwen,” he called to the girl. “We don’t have all day.”
Fuming and gritting her teeth, Elaine watched them load the two horses and pull away. Another strike against her, but she wasn’t finished yet. Some people were on her side—the insurance guy, Jim Burchitt, Jane and Maggie, her two good friends. Plus Marnie and Shelly. Then there was Quinn. Quinn was her ace in the hole.
She frowned. The thought of the teenagers reminded her of her question about where they were. She glanced around. The bicycles were gone from the spot where they had been lodged. The girls must have taken off early.
She turned on her heel as the dust settled from the passage of the horse trailer and let herself into the house.
As the door swung open, she hesitated. A faint, unpleasant odor hung in the air, as if garbage had been left too long in the heat of the kitchen. But she’d emptied the pails after breakfast this morning. She sniffed. Could an animal have come in through an open window? Raccoons could undo latches and they were always bold in hunting for food. A mother and baby had wriggled into a neighbor’s bathroom once when the family was on vacation and the window had slammed behind them. Both had died on the bathroom floor.
But there had been no raccoons this morning and nothing that might have died would smell so bad so soon.
She moved toward the kitchen and stood in shock on the threshold. Bits of broken chair lay on the table and almost all the crockery was missing from the shelves. The walls had been smeared with something, leaving great swooping dark streaks all over them. She didn’t stop to check for any more damage. The place stank like a urinal. The total silence and the smell told her the perpetrators were no longer in the house. They 73
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weren’t ready to touch her physically, but the message was clear. “We can kill your horses, destroy your house. We can do whatever we want, whenever we choose.”
She knew she ought to call the police, but there was something she had to do first.
Despite her conviction that she was alone, she grabbed a large knife lying on the kitchen floor where a drawer had been tipped over. She held it in front of her as she staggered upstairs, her legs like jelly. The bedrooms were in the same state as the lower floor, with mattresses ripped and a pile of feces on the carpet in the main bedroom. The stink pervaded everywhere, making it hard to think. Her quick inspection confirmed that the vandals were long gone. She looked around for something to stand on and in the back bedroom, where she kept Maggie’s sex toys, found what appeared to be the one remaining complete chair in the house. She couldn’t resist a quick look into the drawer.
The vibrator was in pieces, as was the clit stimulator that Quinn had asked her to wear.
She had a quick flash of him lying on the bed as she came out of the shower, examining the other toys. The two sets of balls that had been Maggie’s last gift were out of the box and on the floor, but otherwise undamaged. Almost without a thought she bent down to scoop up the pleasure balls and slipped them into her pocket.
Then she turned her mind to her search. Her head pounded in rhythm with her heart as she hauled the chair out onto the landing and put down the knife.
Shakily, she climbed on the chair and reached above her head. The trapdoor to the attic didn’t appear to have been disturbed. She lowered it carefully, pulled down the attached ladder and scrabbled with her fingers under the third step from the bottom. A plastic sandwich bag was neatly taped below, at eye level when the ladder was extended and completely hidden when it was folded. Quinn’s pin, safe and sound.
Relief flooded over her and she offered a silent prayer of thanks that she had taken the time to conceal it.
She tore away the sticky tape, pulled the little package free and slipped it into her trouser pocket with the pleasure balls. Then she clambered back up on the chair, folded the ladder and closed the hatch before returning the chair to the bedroom.
Next she called the police to repo
rt the break-in.
The dispatcher repeated the address, then said, “We already received a request to check the place out. The regular patrol will stop by any time now.”
“Why? Who?” Elaine’s mind was in turmoil, making it impossible to force out a coherent question.
“The patrol officers will give you the details. I’ll let them know to get there right away.”
What had been going on while she was out? The break-in must have been quick and definitely dirty. When had the guy with the horse trailer arrived? Thank God the damage was confined to the house and the animals were safe.
She paced a bit while she waited for the patrol car, then went back upstairs to grab some clothes. She wouldn’t be able to stay here tonight, or for some time—until the place was cleaned up. When she opened the wardrobe door the stench hit her anew.
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Her clothes seemed to be impregnated with urine. She ran from the room empty-handed and down the stairs helter-skelter.
At the foot of the stairs, she paused. She hadn’t checked the living room. Maybe they had missed it. Maybe the kitchen and bedroom were more personal and better targets. Even before she opened the door, she knew she would be proved wrong.
Everything had been turned over and broken, the sofa slashed to ribbons, the TV screen caved in. With dread in her heart she looked up at the mirror. Someone had driven a heavy object into the center of the glass, sending a starburst of breakage in every direction.
She sank to the floor and buried her head in her hands. How could Quinn come through that?
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Chapter Seven
“Who filed the report?” Elaine asked the police officers. “I’m still a bit worried about the two girls who help me.”
“Names?”
“Marnie Johnson and Shelly Baines?”
“That’s right. Miss Marnie Johnson. She said they were leaving when they saw a group of young men arrive in a pickup. She didn’t like the look of them and when she spoke to them, they were threatening. But they claimed to be lost and the girls watched them for a while. Then they very sensibly left and stopped by the station.”
Elaine nodded. At least the girls were safe. “Thank you.”
“Looks as if someone has it in for you.” The younger of the two police officers looked around the wrecked living room. “Especially with the fire last night.”
His partner gave him a stern glance. “We can’t jump to conclusions at this stage.
We’ve had some vandalism at a few places over the summer.”
“But nothing like this,” Elaine said.
“No.” The older officer chewed the end of his pencil. “I must say it does look suspicious.” He flipped his notebook closed. “We got a bit of a description from your helpers, but the truck was probably stolen. They were wearing baseball caps and sunglasses, so there’s not much detail.”
“I understand.”
“We’ll send some people over to dust and do what we can.” He flipped his notebook closed. “Can’t hold out a lot of hope, though. Some of these gangs come in from the city and are long gone by the time we start looking for them.” He hitched his belt. “Do you have somewhere to stay? This place won’t be habitable for a while.”
Elaine felt her lip tremble as she looked at the cracked glass and then made her chin firm. “I have to take my two horses to a new stable. Then I’m expecting a friend.”
“Good. Do you want us to wait while you get ready to leave or until your friend arrives?”
She shook her head. “I’m not sure when that will be. It won’t take me long to collect some things, there’s nothing much to take. I’ll follow you in a couple of minutes.”
The other officer put on his cap. “Good thing you weren’t around when they did this. They don’t like people getting in their way.”
His colleague edged him toward the door and they both made polite goodbyes.
Elaine saw the older cop talking as they strode toward the cruiser. Probably telling him to button his lip and not scare the victim more than she had been already.
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She heard them start their engine and had an insane desire to giggle. Now what?
Elaine glanced again around the room, taking in the tumbled furniture and smashed screens. The vandals had reserved their more disgusting antics for her personal space upstairs and this area was at least clean. Her eye rested finally on the cracked mirror. She and Quinn had believed the magic properties of the glass could have been enhanced by the full moon and the summer solstice. And by Elaine’s own desire to hold him in her arms.
She approached the mirror and for the first time noticed the candlestick from the Masterton house lying on the floor. Someone had seized it and struck the mirror with the heavy base. They must have been in a hurry to do as much damage as possible and had not spent enough time to smash the mirror entirely. She ran a finger over the surface. Although the star shape of cracks distorted her image, there were no pieces missing. Was it enough to bring Quinn back? Was the magic in the glass, or even in the frame?
Oh God, she ached for him. She had to have him near her, had to breathe in the scent of his hair, feel the roughness of his cheek against her skin… She closed her eyes.
What would she do if the mirror no longer worked?
The pleasure balls rubbed against her thigh. What was it Maggie had said? “Just insert them and enjoy!” She’d claimed the balls made her want her lover even more. She wanted Quinn already with every fiber of her being and needed him now more than ever.
Without a conscious thought Elaine found herself holding the two metal objects in the palm of her hand. “Here goes nothing,” she whispered, setting the balls on a table that still stood on four legs, then undoing the zipper on her jeans. A fever fired her blood. If desire was in the equation, she’d make sure she was melting for him. She would only think of him and the delights he would have in store for her if he returned.
The denim slid over her hips and she wriggled out of her panties. The air felt cool on her skin and she took a deep breath. Thinking about Quinn and what she was doing to prepare for him had already made her moist between her legs and she spread her feet. But how did these things work? Maybe she should lie down? There was nowhere but the floor, so she chose a spot that looked relatively clear and picked up the two shiny metal pleasure balls. They grew warm in her hand as she held them.
Legs spread and knees up, she fixed her eyes on the mirror and took one ball in her fingers bringing it to her naked crotch. One metal sphere slid between her wet lips as if returning to its nest. She felt an instant of coolness inside her that bathed her opening with even more creamy liquid and then the pressure of the ball blossomed and held her in sensuous dilation. If one felt like this, what might two do? There was only one way to find out. The other ball on its silk cord touched the lips of her vulva. She took a deep breath and slipped it inside her. It edged its mate deeper into her until the lips of her vagina closed, holding them both tightly in place. Taking in a deep breath, she gently rubbed the flat of her hand over her abdomen. Shards of pleasure lanced in every direction.
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She’d had no idea. No wonder Maggie talked about “preparing the ground”. She already wanted to lift her hips in response and spread her knees wide to invite her lover in. With one finger she touched her clit and gasped at the jolt that snaked through her.
She could make herself come in seconds.
If the balls made her feel this way motionless on her back, what would they feel like when she was on her feet and moving around?
She took her hand away. She would wait for Quinn. He should be the one to make her come, to watch her writhe and moan under his clever hands and lips. She had to believe that he would come back to her.
Tentatively she sat up, then rose to her feet. The balls moved inside her, massaging her sensi
tive flesh, their weight and warmth impossible to ignore.
She pulled on her underwear and then her jeans.
Time to take the horses to Jim Burchitt and wait for the moonlight.
Before she left she opened all the windows and closed the doors to the bedrooms in the hope it would confine some of the unpleasant odor. There was no need to worry about thieves, between the fire and the break-in there was nothing left worth stealing.
The thought made her pause and pat Quinn’s diamond pin, still tucked into her pocket, but she went back to the mirror and picked up the candlestick. It was solid silver by the weight of it. And it might form one of the connections to Quinn she needed to have. She hefted it by the base. It would make a pretty good weapon too.
She placed the candle holder on the passenger seat then loaded the two horses into Jim’s trailer and glanced at her watch. Already four p.m. She fired up the motor of the pickup and pulled gently out of the driveway.
Jim Burchitt was outside his house, pretending to trim a hedge, but Elaine was pretty sure he was waiting and watching for her. He put down his clippers and came to the vehicle.
“Everything okay?”
“The horses are fine.” She got out of the driver’s seat and stretched her back.
He glanced at her shrewdly. “And you?”
“I’m okay. Let’s get the animals settled.”
It took them the best part of an hour to make sure both horses were happy and eating.
“We can leave them for a half-hour, then check again,” Jim announced. “I’ll make some tea.”
Before Elaine could protest, he strode across the yard to his house. It was a low brick structure with two gable windows piercing the steep roof. Elaine followed him into a long passageway that connected the front and back entrances. Jim turned into a doorway at the back and led the way into a large, bright kitchen. A rocking chair with a colorful afghan stood to one side. Pots and pans glistened and shone from hooks and 78
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