Balancing Act: Kovak & Quaid Horse Mystery Series (Kovak & Quaid Horse Mysteries Book 2)

by Toni Leland

  Kim needed to do something to turn off the negative feelings she was transmitting to the horse. She was making him nervous. The pain in her leg grew, as did her determination to retrieve a lost part of her life. She adjusted the reins and squeezed her legs against the horse’s sides. He moved forward, gently rocking Kim in the saddle, and she realized she was holding her breath. Bandit walked a few paces and Kim focused on the feeling in her right leg. The pain had subsided a bit, but now a spot just below her knee felt numb. She pulled lightly on the reins and Bandit stopped. At the end of the fence, about fifty feet away, the gate to the track stood open. Kim squeezed her legs again and Bandit walked forward, his ears pricked. A lone rider moved around the track at a hefty trot. Kim watched, thinking back to the days when she’d taken Red for trail rides on their days off. The forest behind the police barn was a wonderland of trees and trails and freedom. How she’d loved that.

  As they passed through the entrance to the track, she leaned forward a bit to relieve the pressure on her hip. Her heels accidently touched Bandit’s flank and he shot forward just as the other rider cantered by. Kim lost her balance and the reins flew out of her fingers as she grabbed for his mane. But Bandit was intent on a race. He flew down the track, head out, ears flat, in hot pursuit of the oblivious rider ahead of them. Kim regained her balance, then stared in horror at the reins looped over his ears. She would never be able to reach them. She wouldn’t be able to stop him.

  “Whoa!” she screamed, tugging on his mane. “Whoa!”

  Bandit planted his feet and skidded to a stop, sending Kim over his neck and through the air. She hit the ground hard, landing on her shoulder and rolling, her helmet making a hollow thunk as it connected with the ground. She lay there, staring at the brilliant blue sky. Bandit dropped his head and nosed her arm, then nibbled her fingers and snorted. He stood quietly as she stared at him, wondering how she could have been so stupid as to try this by herself. This is not happening. I can’t believe I’ve been dumped on my first ride!

  The sound of hooves came closer and Bandit nickered as a rider came to a stop a few feet away.

  The woman jumped down and ran over. “Are you okay? Don’t move, I’ll call for help.”

  Kim’s voice croaked. “No, I’m fine. Just had the wind knocked out of me.” She smiled grimly. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

  “Are you sure? I can call Chance to bring the golf cart.”

  Kim rolled over and eased herself into a sitting position. “Really. I’m fine. The only thing damaged is my pride.”

  Bandit snorted and bobbed his head. Both women laughed, then Kim held up her hand.

  “Help me up?”

  The woman grabbed Kim’s hand and pulled her to her feet, a maneuver that reminded Kim of all the damaged parts of her body.

  Embarrassment almost choked her. “Thanks so much. I’m Kim Kovak.”

  “Sandy Barnes. Nice to meet you. Your horse is a barn favorite. We were wondering who he owned.”

  “I’ve been out of commission for quite a while, so it’s been hard for me to get here. Looks like I’d better take it a little slower, or I’ll be back where I started.” She untangled the reins from Bandit’s ears, then smiled at the woman again. “I’d better get back to the barn before anything else happens.”

  Surprise widened Sandy’s eyes. “You’re not getting back on?”

  A flush of warmth raced across Kim’s cheeks. “Well, I really don’t feel up to it…”

  “If you let him get away with dumping you, you’re teaching him it’s okay.” She frowned and shook her head. “And it’s not.”

  Kim massaged her thigh. Not only had she fallen off, she now had someone trying to give her riding lessons!

  Sandy touched Kim’s arm. “If it would help, I’ll ride alongside you. All you need is a few minutes to correct the action in Bandit’s mind.”

  Kim thought about that, still unable to believe her current situation. “Okay, but I’ll need a leg up. I’m not strong enough to mount by myself yet.”

  Sandy smiled, then turned to her own horse. Dropping the reins onto the ground directly beneath the horse’s head, she softly said, “Whoa.” The horse stood quietly.

  “Wow. How does that work?” said Kim.

  “She’s half Quarter Horse and was trained Western as a youngster. They teach ’em to ground tie early on.”

  Sandy stepped behind Kim and grasped her leg, the same as Chance had done. Secure in her new knowledge about mounting, Kim eased up into the saddle. As she settled into the seat, she noticed that she was trembling a bit. Would Bandit notice? Probably. Think positive thoughts, think about all the rides you’re going to have together. Bandit bobbed his head once and she smiled. Horses are so darn smart.

  A minute later, Sandy swung into her own saddle and moved up beside Kim. “Ready? Let’s just walk a quarter mile down the track and back. That should do it.”

  Kim glanced back nervously to see if any other riders were in evidence, anyone who might set the race off again. They were alone and she relaxed.

  As they ambled down the outside rail, Sandy gestured toward Kim’s leg. “What happened?”

  Kim let out a long slow breath. She never talked about the incident. Ever. She glanced at Sandy. But she’d never had anyone ask directly, either. Sandy was readjusting her reins, making them even. Kim liked this woman with her wide smile and down-to-earth attitude. Perhaps she’d become one of Kim’s few friends.

  “I was with the Columbus Mounted Police for ten years. We mostly worked events and crowd control.” She grinned. “Rode in parades, impressed the kids, stuff like that. But about five years ago, we were managing a near-riot – no, it was a riot – after one of the Ohio State football games. It got real ugly. Fires, tipping cars over–”

  “Oh, man, I remember that! How scary that must have been.”

  Kim grimaced. “It was fine until someone started shooting a gun.” A tight coil began in her gut. “I managed to get in front of a bullet. Had to retire from the best job in the world.”

  Sandy whistled low. “How awful.”

  Kim’s voice began to shake. “There’s more. The bullet went clear through my leg and into my horse’s heart.”

  Sandy didn’t respond right away. The only sound was the rhythmic footfalls of the horses’ hooves.

  “I am so sorry.” A short pause. “You’re lucky to have such a wonderful horse now. He must make you very happy.”

  Kim smiled ruefully. “As you’ve witnessed, I don’t know much about him. We’ve only been partners for three months. Today was my first ride.”

  Sandy beamed. “The first of many.”

  As they headed back toward the barn, Kim leaned forward and stroked Bandit’s neck.

  “You ever pull that stunt again, you’ll end up in a hotdog.”

  She sobered, wondering if Quaid had spent much time on Bandit’s back, and exactly what kind of riding he’d done. He might be the one responsible for Bandit’s detour into racing. She’d definitely have to ask him the next time they met.

  Chapter 10

  Kim eased her aching body into the hot water beneath mounds of iridescent bubbles, then leaned her head back and waited for the heat to work its magic. Closing her eyes, she thought about relaxing soaks, long ago, in a softly lit bathroom, sipping a glass of crisp white wine, exploring one of her favorite historical novels. The days of youth and optimism, of plans for the future with a good man at her side. A naïve fantasy that had interrupted today’s reality.

  Today’s reality. She couldn’t even ride her horse without a disaster. What was going on with her life now? Everything she touched seemed to rebel, and she didn’t like it one bit. Even something as simple as a trip to Egypt that had been the dream of a lifetime, screwed up by forces beyond her control. A pang of guilt tightened her chest as she gazed at the fading bath bubbles. Shareen and Albert Van Khoten might be in mortal danger – far more important than her own dashed vacation plans. Another thought quickened h
er pulse. What would happen to Shareen’s magnificent Arabian horses if the rioting reached where they lived? The battles were not only in the streets of Cairo, but throughout the country, as Egyptians who’d fought so hard for freedom now found themselves at the center of intense political unrest. A cold pool of concern formed in the pit of Kim’s stomach. Would the Van Khotens’ barn workers and house staff turn against them?

  Kim stepped out of the tub and dried off, saddened by the troubling thoughts.

  Wiping a clear spot on the foggy mirror, she stared at her reflection. She’d gotten back on the horse, but maybe she should see about getting some help with the riding. Bandit’s transformation into a racehorse was a mystery. Perhaps she should call the old man in Texas...no, he’d said the horse was a rescue animal. The man’s wife had been the rescue angel of mercy, but she was dead. Kim sighed. Whatever lay in Bandit’s past life, she’d never know. Then she chuckled. He’d sure been hell bent on passing that other horse. If she had to bet money, she’d guess that he’d been trained to race at some time in his life. But that must not have happened, because he didn’t have a lip tattoo. But he might have been a promising prospect as a youngster, just long enough to give him a taste of the wind through his mane.

  As she came out of the bathroom into the bedroom, her cell phone beeped. Missed call. The screen brightened as she picked up the phone. Voice mail from N. Danseur.

  Kim dropped the phone back on the bed, then slipped into soft flannel lounge pants and a long sleeved tee shirt. She scuffed into her sheepskin slippers, scooped up the phone, and headed for the living room.

  The message was short: “Miss Kovak, please call me back as soon as possible. It’s important.”

  Natalie answered immediately. “I’m sorry to bother you, but I need your help.”

  Kim lifted an eyebrow. Help?

  “What can I do for you?”

  A long pause before Natalie spoke. “I saw your picture in the newspaper. I know who you are. I know you solved that horse theft case in Ohio.”

  “What? Wait a minute, what picture? What newspaper?”

  “The runaway carriage horse downtown. The one you caught.”

  “There was a picture?” Kim scowled, now remembering the television reporter as she’d left the scene. “So, how does that relate to you?”

  Another pause. “Will you help me find out who’s sabotaging my horses?”

  Kim couldn’t speak for a moment. Had this woman searched the Internet to learn Kim’s identity? How else could she have made the connection between the runaway incident in Chicago and the case in Ohio. Clearly, Kim had been out of touch with whatever follow-up there’d been about the case. Had the diabolical theft scheme actually made the news? She grimaced. If her picture was now all over the Web, then Natalie wouldn’t be the only person knowing who and where Kim was. Did that put Kim in any danger? Loose ends made her nervous, and this definitely fit into that category.

  She cleared her throat. “Natalie, I’m not sure what to say. What makes you think your horses didn’t just get sick? And why would anyone do such a thing?”

  “After you left yesterday, the state agriculture agent came around. He had a clean report for every horse in the race stables, so the strangles bacteria couldn’t have come from there. My horses haven’t been anywhere near other barns or horses or horse handlers for over three weeks, so the only way they could have gotten sick is if someone brought it into my barn from somewhere else.”

  Kim licked her lips. “Do you have anyone in particular in mind?”

  Natalie’s voice faltered. “I can’t prove it, but I suspect someone from Knight’s Theater doesn’t want Dream Horse Ballet to succeed.”

  “That’s a strong accusation, Natalie. You’d have to produce convincing evidence to support it, or be sued for slander.”

  “I know, that’s why I need your help. Will you take the case?”

  “I’m not really an investi – ”

  “Yes, but you and that insurance guy you work with could probably figure this out.”

  Kim gulped. This was not going well.

  Natalie took advantage of the pause. “Listen, I can pay you whatever you need.” Her voice broke. “Please.”

  Kim let out a silent breath, her shoulders slumping. “Let me think about it and I’ll call you back tomorrow.”

  She stood quietly for a minute, reviewing Natalie’s concerns.

  The idea of someone purposely making those horses sick seemed implausible. First of all, how could a stranger – if it were a stranger – gain access to the barn for a long enough time to infect every horse? Surely, Natalie’s barn had security cameras to protect her considerable investment. Secondly, her suspicion of someone from the other horse theater didn’t make sense either. Why would a highly regarded, firmly established company risk the backlash of such dastardly professional sabotage? Even if the Dream Horse Ballet were wildly successful, it couldn’t possibly woo enough customers away to make a significant difference. The two productions were quite different from each other and, in a city the size of Chicago, they could both be successful. Kim shook her head slowly. This didn’t have the feel of a malicious act.

  And yet, Natalie seemed positive that the disease raging through her barn was no accident.

  Kim headed down the hall toward her studio. Why was she even considering taking this on? A little voice in her head reminded her that Natalie had promised to pay for the help. The least Kim could do was give it some thought. A good place to start would be learning what she could about strangles.

  As she entered the room she used for her photography work, she shuddered. Even though several months had passed, she still couldn’t erase the image of the room in chaos. Thieves had torn through everything – all the files, all the drawers, all the bookshelves, the closet. As she gazed at the new computers that had cost her a small fortune, she recognized that she had another good reason to try to track down the truth about Natalie’s problem.

  Kim’s eyes widened as she read a prestigious university’s veterinary web site. “Sometimes known as horse distemper, strangles is caused by the bacteria Streptococcus equi, and affects horses of all ages, though younger horses are more susceptible. The disease causes swelling of the lymph nodes in the throat area, which interferes with breathing. Hence, the name strangles – recognized as one of the most highly contagious diseases of equine species.”

  Kim blew out a long breath. One tiny speck of infected body fluid could spread the disease through an entire barn like wildfire. Clothing, boots, brushes, tack, shared water buckets or feed tubs could all be conductors of the bacteria from one place to another. If it were anywhere near Natalie’s barn –

  Kim sucked in a hard breath. “Oh no, I was in that barn, around those horses! What if I brought some of the bacteria home with me and gave it to Bandit?”

  Panic charged through Kim’s chest. If she gave it to Bandit, he would infect the whole stable. Running Brook Farm would be in the same dire straits as Natalie Danseur. Kim closed her eyes and took a calming breath, allowing reason to prevail. She’d showered, hadn’t worn the same clothes, hadn’t actually touched any of Natalie’s horses. And how long would the bacteria stay alive, anyway?

  She scrolled on down the screen, reading the horrific details of the disease’s progress, hoping to find the answer to her question.

  “Initial symptoms are mild, like those of the common cold: clear nasal discharge, depression, disinterest in eating or drinking, sometimes fever, followed by swelling in the throat area. From seven to ten days later, the lymph nodes may develop abscesses; these will mature, rupture, and drain thick, cheesy material. Important: this drainage contains extremely high concentrations of the bacteria, which can contaminate anything it touches.”

  Kim exhaled sharply and sat back, repulsed by the pictures that accompanied the article. She thought about the photographs she’d taken at the barn. All Natalie’s horses seemed to be at about the same stage, with runny noses and mild de
pression. If, as the article stated, the disease spread through a group via direct contact, wouldn’t some of the horses have been at a more advanced stage? Thinking back, she remembered that some were.

  Could Natalie be right? Had someone come into her barn and exposed all of them to the bacteria at the same time? It seemed far-fetched, but Kim had learned long ago that things are not always what they seem. Police work required looking at the improbable with an unbiased eye.

  She scrolled through the rest of the article, gathering as much information as possible. If diagnosed early, strangles could be successfully treated with procaine Penicillin G, thereby preventing the abscess stage. Natalie’s vet had caught the problem early, so it could be that none of those beautiful animals would go into advanced stages of the disease. At the end of the article, Kim’s shoulders sagged.

  “Horses being treated for strangles must be isolated and not allowed to leave the area until clinically clear of infection. However, affected horses that appear clinically recovered can shed Streptococcus equi for up to six weeks after infection. These horses should be kept away from others, since this is often the source of recurring infection in a barn or herd.”

  Kim closed the computer. “Six weeks after they recover.”

  If someone had done this deliberately, they had effectively put Dream Horse Ballet out of business.

  Kim jumped up from her chair and grabbed a cloth to wipe the writing off her large dry-erase work board, swiping away the only remaining deadline she’d had in months. The Chicago photo essay was due at the magazine by Friday, which wasn’t a problem. Adjust photos, write captions, send it off and wait for the check. In the meantime, she would consider some of the angles of Natalie Danseur’s problem.

  The process of writing down blocks of information about a situation helped Kim’s head sort things out in an orderly manner. The who, what, when, where, and how of any investigation started with putting all the facts in one place. She stepped back and looked at the five columns. The “what” and “where” were easy. The rest of the questions would take some serious exploration in order to address the “why.” But, where to start?