by Ann Hunter
Promenade came over a hill at a casual canter, then suddenly dug deep, ears flattened, and charged past two of his paddock mates. Brooke straightened. Her fingers twitched over the stopwatch, setting it off. She had mentally counted off two furlongs in the pasture, about four hundred and forty feet, and timed the colt as he spun by.
Tick, tick, tick, tick, tick.
Click.
She looked down at the watch as she stopped it when Promenade turned at the top of the pasture and skidded to a halt, tossing his mane and arching his neck.
Her eyes widened.
Twenty-two seconds.
The world record was a blink over twenty.
Her eyes climbed slowly upward to the colt across the way. He gazed back at her with an air like she wasn't even there, like he saw right through her. He snorted and his breath puffed white on the November air.
Joe sidled up beside her. "You gonna join us?"
She pretended not to hear him.
"North's going to slice the turkey soon. I know how much you like his wife's turkey."
"Still not talkin' to you, Pop."
"The girl's been gone three weeks. 'Not talkin' to you' is about all you've said since."
Brooke kept her eyes fixed on Promenade, even as he sauntered off after the other horses.
"There's sparkling cider and champagne." Joe tried to tempt her. "Hillary brought those cookies you love, and her girl made a pie. It actually looks good," he chuckled. He fell quiet for a while, resting a foot on one of the lower boards of the fence. "Come on, Brooke. It's Thanksgiving. Come be with your family."
"We need to bring her home. She needs a home." Her eyes bored into her grandfather. She half hoped laser rays would shoot from them and singe off his hair or something. "She needs a family."
She shoved the stopwatch into his hands. "That's Promenade for two furlongs. Alex won't want to miss the next year with him." She stormed away.
"It's not that simple," Joe called after her.
Alex shuddered as she slept in her cell, echoing the shiver from her nightly dream…
An icy pit formed in her stomach as she stared at DeGelder and the gun. "What have you done?"
DeGelder lifted the gun and aimed, and Alex suddenly didn't care if she lived or died anymore. A world without Ashley was no world at all. If she at least tried to stop this woman, it would be enough.
DeGelder pulled the trigger as Alex leapt at her.
Alex screamed.
DeGelder flew backwards as Alex tackled her to the ground. The gun released a bullet into the ceiling, matching the ka-pow Alex landed into the woman's throat. She wrestled the gun from DeGelder's fist.
Alex pinned DeGelder's shoulders to the floor beneath her knees, the barrel pointed at the woman's skull. DeGelder gasped for breath. "Do it."
Alex gritted her teeth, breathing hard. She cocked the gun, her finger trembling around the trigger. Her mind clouded.
"It's a dark world we live in," DeGelder muttered. "It's not worth living in. I certainly don't want to. I don't know why anyone would. Especially kids like you." She struggled beneath Alex, but Alex slammed her back against the floor again.
DeGedler laughed. "No one will ever love you. No one will ever want you. You will never find a place in this world. And do you know why?"
Alex bellowed in her face, still holding the gun tightly.
"We're the same you and I," DeGelder rattled. "I was you a long time ago. That's why I hate you. It's easy to hate ourselves."
Alex's breathing slowed. Sensation returned to her gradually. Lies. "You're wrong." She spit on the woman. "Ashley loved me."
Alex banged her forehead against DeGelder's hard enough to ram it against the floor and knock the woman out. It would give her time to call the police. She searched the woman for a cell phone and dialed 911.
"Houston County Nine-One-One. What is the manner of your emergency?"
Alex hesitated. She looked over to where Ashley lay. She choked up. "I need help."
"What is the address and the emergency?"
"Ashley's dead." Alex shuddered. Tears overwhelmed her. She sobbed. "She's dead."
"Calm down, sweetheart. What's your address?"
Alex shut her eyes tight, trying to remember the address. It seemed to escape her. She got to her feet, legs trembling beneath her, and walked across the room. She thought she blurted out the address and hoped it would be understood. The dispatcher repeated the address back to her, and Alex nodded.
"Stay on the line with me honey. Who else is there with you?"
Alex stared at DeGelder.
"What's your name?" the dispatcher asked.
"Alexandra Anderson."
"Is anyone else there?"
Alex turned her back to DeGelder, almost afraid to look at Ashley again. She felt compelled to check on the others, to make sure they were okay.
"Are you still on the line?" the dispatcher buzzed.
Alex thought it had grown too quiet when a floorboard creaked behind her.
The dispatcher's voice crackled. "Alexandra? Are you still on the line?"
Alex swung round when DeGelder roared and charged toward her. She dropped the phone and fired the gun.
"Alexandra Paige Anderson, you are hereby called before the courts on two charges of first degree murder. The first: Vanessa DeGelder on the eighteenth of October, and second: Ashley Valiant, also on the eighteenth of October. Are you aware of these charges?" asked the judge.
Alex was sure her heart stopped beating. How can they charge me with Ashley's death? She sagged against Mr. Michaels who caught her just in time.
"Your Honor," said Mr. Michaels, "we waive any further reading of the arraignment at this time and wish to enter a plea." He steadied Alex, murmuring, "It's alright, just answer the question."
The room went into a spiral before Alex. How could she answer not guilty to one charge and guilty to another? I can't!
Her thoughts said one thing while her mouth spoke another, sounding hollow in her ears as though someone else said it. "Yes."
The judge leaned forward. "How do you plead?"
She didn't hesitate. "No contest."
Alex's attorney grabbed her elbow tightly. "I'm sorry, Your Honor," he said, "but I need a moment with my client."
"Of course."
Mr. Michaels glared at Alex. He lowered his head to hers. "You were told to plead not guilty," he hissed.
"But I am guilty," Alex muttered. "I shot DeGelder, and I don't regret it. I can't say guilty to Ashley, though. I'd never—"
"No. You're innocent until proven guilty." Mr. Michaels turned back to the judge. "Your Honor, my client wishes to try that again. Isn't that right, Mr. Abrams?"
Mr. Michaels motioned to another attorney standing close to him. "My associate, Mr. Abrams has been appointed as Alexandra's Guardian Ad Litem."
"I'll allow it. How does she plead?"
Mr. Michaels blew out a breath and smoothed his tie. "Not guilty, Your Honor. Furthermore, I motion for a speedy trial."
"Granted," the judge said.
"We are also willing to waive preliminary hearing."
"Your Honor," the prosecuting attorney interjected for the first time in the hearing. "The state requests bail set at two million dollars."
"Very well, sir. Bail is set at two million dollars." The judge banged his gavel.
Alex gulped audibly. Mr. Michaels cleared his throat, pressing his tie to his broad chest, and leaned closer to the podium. "Two million, Your Honor?"
"Mr. Prosecutor?" the judge deferred.
"Your Honor, Miss Anderson is charged with the heinous crimes of killing a sibling and their guardian." The prosecutor rattled on, "She is a threat to the public and a proven flight risk."
"I tend to agree," said the judge, smacking his gavel a second time with finality.
Alex cringed beneath Mr. Michaels's gaze that said more than she wanted to hear. Way to go, genius.
Steven clenched his phone so tightly
, his knuckles were white. "What do you mean they won't lower it? Where am I supposed to come up with two million dollars?"
"Didn't you just win the Breeders Cup or something?" Mr. Michaels asked on the other end of the line.
Steven sucked in a breath. "I need that money. North Oak needs that money. I've got bills to pay. The nomination fee for the race alone…."
"I'm sorry. I tried to get it lowered, I really did. But she's a flight risk. She's not going anywhere unless you can come up with the money. Once we prove her innocence, you'll get the money back. She is innocent, right?"
Steven ran a shaking hand through his hair and leaned against the stall of the training barn where he'd taken the call. His heart hammered. Before his attorney could tell him anything more, Steven flung the phone down the aisle. It shattered the instant it hit the cement.
Horses spooked. Feed and water buckets clunked in surprise. Steven turned to Venus Galaxies. Where am I going to get that kind of money?
The mare's ears pricked forward as though she could hear his thoughts. Steven stared at her. A thought sank in. Winning any Breeders Cup race increased a horse's value exponentially. Winning broodmares could easily go for three, four, even five million when the economy was good. Two million bucks was standing right in front of him.
SILENT MAJORITY
Steven sat across from his breeding manager, Cade Showman, and Joe in North Oak's main office. "I've called you both here to discuss the future of Venus Galaxies and North Oak. You both know that I want to breed her in the spring, but certain financial hurdles have come up, and I may have to sell her."
"Financial hurdles, pah," Joe grumbled.
"Let's be frank here," Cade said. "We're talking about Alex."
Steven tilted back in his office chair and rubbed his temples. "The bail is considerable."
"Let her sit in jail and learn her lesson," growled Joe.
Steven sighed. "If I post bail, we can bring her home and move on with our lives."
"She'll still have to stand trial," Cade said.
"I know that, but at least she'll be safe with us. She'll be kept out of trouble."
"So what's the plan?"
Steven looked between them. He folded his hands on his desk and hunkered down. "I'm thinking of selling Venus Galaxies in order to pay the bail."
"You can't be serious." Cade was on the edge of his seat. "You and Angelina spent years cultivating that mare, and you're just going to throw it all away?"
Joe shook his head. "Honestly, I'm not surprised. The horse is an asset. It makes sense to sell her and keep us all afloat."
"Afloat?" Cade stared at him. "You call throwing a dream away 'afloat'?"
Joe ignored him, his eyes fixed sternly on Steven. "Look, son. While your dad was alive we learned a lot from each other. Now he was a smart business man, but he valued family above all else. Let me tell you a lesson I learned the hard way: every horse in the world has a price tag. Venus Galaxies is worth an awful lot, and anyone who buys her is bound to get a return on their investment."
Joe leaned forward in his chair, gripping the arms. "I don't know why you want that girl home so badly. I think she's trouble. Brooke never shuts up about her. If you plan to use Alex for some crazy dream your sister never fulfilled for you, if you want to keep the farm going, in whatever capacity that may be, sell the mare." Joe pushed himself out of the seat. "I don't care anymore. I keep tryin' to talk sense into you, son, but it's like talkin' to a wall. Your father never would've put up with this."
Cade and Steven both watched him leave, and when he was long gone, Cade looked to Steven with earnesty. "I know you love your family. I know you love your horses. If you sell it'll be a short-term gain, and a long-term loss. We've talked about the kind of foals you want from her, but you and I both know that an untried yearling is going to sell for a lot less than a proven racer. If you keep that mare, and anything half-decent she throws, you'll earn more. Hang on to Venus Galaxies. Hang on to your dream. I know in my heart we'll get Alex back. She's no killer. Have faith that the court will see that. Think of North Oak. Not just the farm, but all of us as a family."
The chair rolled back from beneath Cade as he rose quickly and left, leaving Steven alone in the office. He gazed at the winners circle photos on the wall of his sister on the back of Venus Galaxies as a two-year-old. He sank his teeth into his fist. What am I going to do, Angie?
Cade and Joe both had their points. The mare was Angelina's legacy, the last tie Steven had to her. Yet he couldn't ignore the fact that selling her would solve a lot of his financial problems and potentially secure Alexandra's own future.
His chest tightened. It's all just potential.
Nothing was certain. Not even tomorrow was a given. Could he really risk losing the mare and Alex if the girl was found guilty?
No. I can't do that to Angie. Our future is right in front of me. His eyes wandered upwards. "Hear me, Angelina? We're fighting all the way to the wire."
Surely there had to be a weanling he could sell at next year's yearling auction.
Alex sat at a small round table in the Correctional Facility rec hall with Brooke and Laura.
"What are you guys doing here?"
"Do you really think we'd forget you on Christmas?" Laura grinned.
"North brought us," Brooke added.
"Yeah, sorry we couldn't bring presents. Security wouldn't let it in," Laura said.
Alex looked at Laura, wondering where Hillary was.
"We couldn't just sit at home and do nothing, though. We had to come see you," Brooke said.
Laura nodded to Alex. "Great jumpsuit by the way. That's a good color on you."
Alex rolled her eyes. "All I get is this dumb thing, and some underwear like the t-shirt I got on. I'd kill for a pair of jeans."
Brooke and Laura looked at one another awkwardly. "Are you sure it's a good idea to say that, given the circumstances?" Brooke asked.
The girls suddenly starting giggling, and Alex found herself at ease. I've missed them. She chewed her lower lip.
"So tell us about life in the slamma," Laura suggested.
Alex scratched at some sort of tiny red lump on the table. I hope it's only ketchup. "It's not so bad, I guess. We get to earn credits when we do chores and for good behavior, and use them for stuff like toothpaste and extra time outside of our cells." She straightened. "And the food…"
"That, uhhh…" Brooke started to say.
"Sounds pretty crappy," Laura blurted.
Alex's mouth twisted wryly. "Yeah. Not exactly your mom's meatloaf."
"Do you know when your trial is yet?" Brooke asked.
Alex shook her head. "I haven't heard much about it, but my lawyer says they have to give me one within ninety days. So, by February I guess."
Brooke leaned her head back as if that was the longest time span in the world. Laura leaned forward, eyes wide. "Fascinating. Tell me more."
Alex looked at her sideways. "I told you what I know. What else is there?"
"I dunno. I gotta look into this whole law thing when I get home, for sure, though. I've been researching it ever since you got arrested."
Brooke looked at Laura. "You? Research law?"
Laura nodded emphatically. "Yup. It's some pretty cool stuff."
"Oooookay, then." Brooke looked back to Alex. "Meanwhile in Normalville…."
Alex smirked. "Are you sure any of us have ever been there?"
Laura scrunched her nose and laughed. She turned to Brooke, hiking a thumb in Alex's direction. "You see? Didn't I totally say on the way here that we're lost sisters?"
Brooke made a goose-egg sign at Laura and peered through it. "Number of logics you have, Laura."
Laura rolled her eyes and turned back to Alex. "You wanna be my sister?"
Alex looked between them. How could they still be this enthusiastic toward her after what had happened? Everything's changed.
Alex was about to answer when one of the guards told them visiting time
was up.
All three of them rose and moved toward the door. "Don't worry," Laura said hopefully, "everything's going to be okay. You're going to come home real soon, I just know it."
"You're a good kid, Alex." Brooke smiled. "You just don't know it yet."
Laura grinned brightly. "Merry Christmas."
Hillary looked down at her vibrating phone and opened the incoming text.
Foaling barn. Now.
She grabbed her coat at once and raced to the barn where the mares were kept. A message like that this late in the season only meant the worst.
When she reached the barn, she found North, Cade, and the assistant vet gathered around Astral Melody's stall. Hillary pushed through. The mare sprawled on her side, laboring, even though she wasn't due for four more months.
It was all a blur from there. Hillary's mind worked faster than her mouth did, and she barked a string of orders. The men moved quickly, but it was too late to save the foal.
Melody rose slowly and nuzzled the tiny, still body. She whickered and nudged it, willing it to find its feet. The foal flopped back on to the straw limply.
An ache rose in Hillary. She finished caring for the mare, and held her game face even as Melody pawed the straw around her stillborn foal.
Hillary's eyes locked with Cade's. "Get her to another stall. You know what to do." Hillary looked at the young assistant vet. "Collect the foal and afterbirth for inspection. I'll look at it shortly. I've left something back at the house."
She stormed down the aisle to the room they used to monitor the mares. Several screens lined the wall, all attached to cameras in each mare's stall. Hillary tossed her bag of supplies, and leaned against the table beneath the monitors. She dropped her head and fought the storm swirling in her.
But not for long.
She strode from the barn. Once in the sunlight, she made a break for her home and raced inside. Her legs threatened to give beneath her as she climbed the stairs, numbly.
It hadn't phased Hillary before, so why did it now? Mares miscarried late in term at times, and Melody was getting on in years; more susceptible to problems. These things happen. It was just another part of life. Why do I care?