by Valerie Tate
‘The horses will be removed from the premises to as yet unnamed location where they will be cared for and hopefully returned to good health.’
The cameras zoomed in on Fred Skinner - shaggy-haired, a small tuft of hair below the lower lip of his weathered face, barbed wire tattoo encircling his left bicep – the picture of an urban thug, being led away in handcuffs.
“Whoo-hoo!” Alex couldn’t contain her glee. “One for the good guys!”
The view from the top of the hill was spectacular. Chris and Alicia, anxious to clear the horrific images of the previous night’s adventure from their minds, had set out later that morning to explore the farmland beyond the turn-out fields, following a hacking trail through treed parkland, and it had led them there.
Leaning companionably against an old Maple tree, they were enjoying just being together. Time alone had been scarce since arriving at Avalon and as much as they loved Alex, they were happy that she and Julie had to attend another Town Council meeting. It was yet another skirmish in their on-going battle to oppose an application for rezoning that would allow the redevelopment of a neighbouring farm into a housing subdivision.
Spread out before them like a tapestry were the rolling hills and green valleys of King Township. A row of purple lilacs lined a nearby fence and the heady fragrance of the newly opened blossoms filled the air. Stretched out, as far as the eye could see were fields outlined with white fences and in places narrow ribbons led from winding roads to small dolls’ houses with stone chimneys and coloured roofs and toy barns reminiscent of Fisher-Price. Tiny horses dotted pasture as luxurious as emerald velvet.
It all reminded Ali of a folk art quilt she had once found in a trunk in the attic of Dunbar house when she was a little girl and she thought she would like to have that quilt on the bed in their spare room.
“Alex hates Marci.” Chris’ words, coming out of nowhere, shattered the peace of the moment.
Alicia sighed. “I’ve noticed.”
“Has she told you why?”
“No, but she will, sooner or later, when she is ready.”
“It’s clouding her judgement. We can’t let it cloud ours. We have to consider everybody.”
“You’re right. But do we have to do it now?”
He tightened the arms that held her. “No, not now.”
Returning to the barn, a couple of hours later they found it in turmoil. Alex had returned from the meeting to learn that Bailey, one of the rescue horses, had somehow managed to slice his shoulder open in his paddock. Pippa and Leah were flushing out the wound and Peter and Robbie were out walking the fence lines looking for the offending nail. Alex had gone to call the vet. She returned wearing a strange look on her face.
“Hi, Al. We just heard what happened. Did you get a hold of your vet?”
“No. There was a message on her voice mail that she is away for the week. She has another vet doing her emergency calls. You’ll never guess who it is!”
“Who?”
“Jon Allardyce!”
Alicia’s face lit up. “Brilliant!”
“Brilliant?! It’s damned awkward!”
“Well, that too! But it’s also a perfect opportunity to find out where he was the morning of Dean’s death!”
“We know where he was,” Alex said irritably. “He was out on farm calls.”
“But where? What farms? Maybe he was close by and would have had time to sneak back and put the DMSO in Dean’s apartment. As a vet, he would have the most knowledge about exactly how much potassium would be needed and where to put it for maximum effect.”
Alex merely growled in response.
‘Damned awkward’ was the Mt. Everest of understatements! Jon Allardyce arrived, stony-faced, his long back ramrod straight, with the luminous Claire at his side ostensibly to help him stitch up the shoulder but really to avoid having to say much to Alex. Thankfully, the wound, while extensive, involved only skin and not the all-important musculature beneath. Claire made small talk while Jon got to work.
“This is a gorgeous place! Would you mind showing me around?”
“My pleasure.”
As they left the barn, the canine horde flew around the corner and descended en masse.
“Sorry,” Alex apologized as the four overly-friendly dogs surrounded Claire, tails wagging furiously.
Claire laughed as she attempted to fend off their frenzied attentions. “Don’t worry about it. Who do we have here?”
Alex made the introductions. “The Golden Retriever is Daisy. She’s the boss. Rosco is the Sheppard cross. The Border Collie is Chance and the Beagle is Snoopy. Except for Daisy, they are all rescues. Rosco and Chance came from the Humane Society shelter. Snoopy wandered in here one day, very thin and bedraggled. We put up notices and contacted the shelters. No one claimed him so he joined the crew.” Claire fussed over each of them and then Alex and the dogs showed her the farm. Alicia tagged along, hoping for an opening that would lead them to a discussion of where they all were on the day of Dean’s death.
They finished the tour at the paddocks where Claire admired the foal and then gazed with longing at the manicured fields and immaculate facility.
“You’re so lucky! I’ve always wanted a place of my own. It wouldn’t have to be as fancy as this, just mine.” She sighed. “Maybe someday.”
Alicia saw her opening. “Have you worked long for Jon and Marci?”
“Marci and I were friends long before she met Jon. We met in Pony Club!” Claire smiled in reminiscence. “When they started King Valley Marci asked me to run the barn. Living there helps me save for my own place.”
“You shared the gate house with Dean, didn’t you?”
Claire’s smile faded. “Yes. I have the first floor apartment. Dean had the second floor. Brooke has the basement.”
Alicia hesitated and then went on. “We were so sorry about Dean. He seemed like a really nice person.”
“He was,” Claire said quietly.
“You all had just had lunch together, hadn’t you?”
Claire nodded. “Marci had organized it for the staff to boost morale. It was Dean’s half-day but he stayed to eat. It was the last time we were all together.”
The look on Claire’s face made Alicia feel wretched but she pressed on. “I guess it’s really hard getting the staff together with Jon being out on calls.”
Claire nodded again. “Marci thought it was important for everyone to be there so she made Jon promise to get back. She called him on his cell when she got back with the food to make sure he came back in time to eat and he said he was just leaving Hampton’s farm down the road and he’d be back shortly.”
Alicia and Alex exchanged glances. Jon was back on the list.
“I suppose you’ll be hiring a new vet tech now.”
“No, we’re looking for stable help. Brooke has been taking the vet tech course at the Seneca King Campus. She finished in April. She’ll be taking over for... the tech job.”
Here was a new possibility. Murder Board to the contrary, they had never seriously considered Brooke as a suspect. Was a job something someone would kill for?
“Do you remember what Chris said about our assuming the stolen straw was the motive for Dean’s death?” Alicia asked, later that evening. “That we thought that because it was what we were concerned about. Even the police assumed that. Maybe we’ve had tunnel vision. What if Dean’s death had nothing to do with the stolen straw or the breeding scam? What if it was something as simple as Dean having something that someone else wanted, like a great job?”
“It’s pretty far-fetched but I suppose people have killed for less,” Chris said doubtfully. “We don’t know anything about Brooke. Do you, Alex?”
She shook her head. “Not really. I know she competes. She has an off-the-track Thoroughbred she shows at First Level. Pippa or Leah might know her. I’ll ask them to come over.”
Five minutes later the girls were sitting side by side on the couch, like little clones. They wo
re the same uniform – a body-hugging t-shirt, full-seat breeches and paddock boots. Brown hair was pulled back into matching, jaunty pony-tails and pretty brown-eyed faces, devoid of make-up beamed in anticipation. Pippa and Leah. Alicia thought she would never be able to think of those names separately again, much like Chip and Dale, the chipmunks from the cartoons she had watched as a child. She almost expected the girls to speak with squeaky helium-filled voices.
They did know Brooke from showing.
“She has a really nice Thoroughbred...” Pippa began.
“that she shows at First Level.” Leah finished.
“I think she is planning on moving up...” Pippa began.
“to Second Level by the end of this season.” Leah finished.
“She works part-time at...” Pippa began.
“New to You Tack Shop in Nobleton.” Leah finished.
“It’s a consignment shop. They have really great stuff at low prices.” Pippa managed to finish a sentence only because Leah had stopped to drink some coffee. “She has worked there for a long time, at least a couple of years.”
“Have you ever been there?” Alicia asked Alex who shook her head.
“You should go,” Leah assured them. “I got a pair of Pikeur breeches for half of the regular price. I don’t think they had ever been worn.”
“And I got a pair of Ariat half-chaps and they hadn’t been. Someone had ordered them from an on-line store and they were too long. You can get some real bargains if you go in regularly.”
Shopping fever momentarily supplanted detective instincts in Alicia. “Wow! Sounds like just the place to find some breeches and boots.” Catching Chris’ eye, she added, “but first we need to find out what we can about Brooke. We can go tomorrow. I wonder where she got the Thoroughbred?”
Chapter 20
In the long run, it was decided that Alicia and Alex would go to the tack shop, Chris being equine illiterate, while he tried to discover whether Jon Allardyce could have had the time to get back to King Valley, plant the DMSO Potassium Chloride and then get to Hampton’s farm.
They found New to You Tack in a heritage store front on the main street of a nearby town. Through the bottle glass windows they saw that more than clothing was on consignment. Saddles, bridles, bits and blankets vied for space in the small shop.
Brooke was busy with a customer so the girls checked out the merchandise. While Alicia tried on boots, Alex looked over the saddles which were stacked three high on the racks.
“It always amazes me that people will put a saddle up for sale and not even bother to clean it! This one even has mould under the flaps!” Most of them were brown jumping saddles but a few black dressage saddles were stacked at the end. “Hey, Ali, here’s one like mine and it’s in really good condition.” While Alicia removed the boots, Alex pulled the saddle out. “It’s a wide tree and it looks like your size. It’s a good price. You should get on and see how it feels.” Alex put it on the saddle horse and Alicia was climbing on when the other customer left and Brooke walked over.
“Hi! I know you. We met...” Her eyes clouded over as she remembered the circumstances.
“Yes, I’m Alex and this is Alicia. We heard about your shop from Pippa and Leah and came to check it out.”
“We’re really sorry about Dean.” Sitting in the saddle, Alicia felt a little foolish offering condolences.
“Thanks, it’s been a tough time. What can I help you with?” Brooke asked, obviously wanting to avoid a painful subject.
They discussed the saddle while Alicia tried to think of a way to get back to the subject of Dean’s death. Brooke said it fit Alicia perfectly.
“But I don’t even have a horse yet!”
“We could take it on trial and try it on Harley,” Alex suggested. “You could see how you like it. These saddles have adjustable trees so it could be adjusted to fit pretty much any horse you buy.”
Brooke looked confused. “You don’t have a horse?”
“No, not yet. My husband and I have bought a small farm and the barn is being renovated. When it’s finished I’ll start horse-shopping.”
“Is that why you were at King Valley? Horse shopping? Marci has some nice youngsters.”
It was Alicia’s turn to be confused. Brooke had to have heard about the missing semen. What was she playing at? “We did look but they’re too young. I’m looking for something with a little more experience since I haven’t done much riding in the last few years.”
“You’re wise.” Brooke nodded sagely. “Green horses and riders are not a good match.”
“I hear you have a really nice Thoroughbred. Do you mind my asking where you got him?”
“Not at all. He is nice. I have a friend who works for a trainer at the track. She kept an eye out for me. When Sammy was retired from racing she let me know about him. He was sound. Just not fast enough. We hit it off and the rest is history. I could ask her to keep an eye out for another likely prospect if you’d like.”
“That would be wonderful! Thank you!” Alicia was torn. Brooke seemed so genuine, and yet... She decided to try a more direct approach. “We hear that you are going to be the new tech at King Valley. Congratulations.”
Brooke looked pleased. “Thanks! I feel bad at being so happy about it, considering the circumstances, but it is my dream job and a Godsend for me. I’ve been working two jobs to put myself through school and keep Sammy. Now I’ve given my notice here. I’ll be working full time at the farm and Marci is letting me move Sammy to her farm so he’ll be close to home. Everything has worked out wonderfully well for me.”
“Well, I’d say she had a motive,” Alicia commented as they drove home, the trial saddle in the back seat.
Alex shook her head. “I don’t know. Would someone really kill another person just to get his job? There are other places to work, perhaps not as perfect but where she wouldn’t have to kill to get hired.”
“Remember, she said it is her ‘dream job’. I agree it’s a long shot but I think we should keep her on the list. Someone might just kill to secure her dream job.”
Hampton’s Farm was about a kilometre down the road from King Valley Breeding. There was no gate so Chris drove in, past the house to the barn and arena. The faded paint and general dilapidation of the wooden structure was a far cry from the pristine elegance of Avalon or the attractive functionality of King Valley.
There were no horses in the barn. The stalls had all been mucked and the aisle swept, like a suit that had seen better days, cared for by a loving hand.
“Can I help you?”
Turning, he saw a young woman in jeans and a t-shirt, blonde hair pulled back into the obligatory pony tail.
“Hi, sorry to just barge in. My name is Chris. I’m looking for the owner.”
“That’s me. I’m Jenna.”
“Nice to meet you. I’m new to the area and looking for recommendations for a horse vet. I’m told you use Jon Allardyce and I was wondering if you are happy with him.”
“We’ve used Jon since my husband and I started leasing this place, about two years. We have a number of boarders as well as our own horses so we’ve given him quite a bit of work and he’s always been professional and competent. I think you’d be happy with him. It’s nice to have a vet that’s close by in case of emergencies. Is your place nearby?”
“It’s west of here,” Chris answered truthfully.
“He was just here to do shots. It was the day that poor young man killed himself. Such a tragedy.” The news it was now considered a homicide had obviously been kept quiet.
“I heard something about that. So he was here that day?”
“Yes, right before lunch. Marci, his wife, had made him promise to be home on time that day so he hadn’t booked any calls outside of the vicinity of the farm. He said he’d done nothing but shots all morning.”
“So we can keep Jon Allardyce on the list,” Chris concluded. “He was close by all morning. It would have been easy to slip in and out at
any time.”
They were sitting in front of the murder board after lunch. Alicia had updated Brooke’s motive and was removing Jon’s alibi.
“I can see how Brooke benefits from Dean’s death. She gets a better job and horse board. I don’t see how Jon benefits. Why would he kill Dean?” Julie asked the question that was on everyone’s mind.
“Unless there was something going on that we don’t know about, like Dean was having an affair with Marci, (No, Alex, don’t say it!), then it would have to have something to do with the semen fraud.” Alicia looked at the others for affirmation and they obliged.
Chris continued the thought. “Perhaps Dean had figured out what they were doing and threatened to turn them in or even tried a little blackmail. He needed money. He might have gotten impatient and tried to speed his dream up a little.”
“Good thinking, honey!”
Chris grimaced.
“Remember how distracted he was,” she went on, “when he showed us the straws in the tank. We couldn’t understand why there were so many. Maybe he couldn’t either.”
“And so he went to Jon and Marci and demanded an explanation?” Alex asked.
“Exactly! Either way, it would be a pretty good motive for them to get rid of him.”
“Ok, I get that. But why, when they had killed him in such a way that it would look like a heart attack, would they inject him and leave the syringe and a vague suicide note?”
Like a trail of breadcrumbs, Alicia followed an illusive thought. “If the killer hadn’t injected him with the potassium chloride and left the syringe, no one might ever have known it wasn’t a natural death by heart attack.” Alicia jumped up. “And the only reason for making it look like suicide... was to leave the note about the stolen semen!”
“And the only person who would want to do that was the person who had really stolen it!” Alex continued the thought.
“So the killer is the person who stole it,” Alicia went on.