Perfect Harmony: A Vivienne Taylor Horse Lover's Mystery (Fairmont Riding Academy Book 3)

by Michele Scott

  “I’m sorry, Ri. He’s such a great horse.” I see Riley start to tear up at the possibility of Santos’s career ending and my heart breaks for him.

  “Yeah. This sucks. I want him to be here so badly with me. I have so many plans. You know I’ve been saving money so we can leave the States when I graduate.” He wipes his face and glances around.

  “I know,” I reply. Riley has been biding his time. He has a decent amount of money coming to him at graduation, and he’s planning to keep his secret regarding his sexuality until after the money is in his bank account. He believes that as soon as his parents learn that he’s gay, they’ll cut him out of their lives forever.

  “What’s worse is that I like Melody. She’s a nice mare. But she’s not Santos. Plus, she was Joel’s, so it feels kind of wrong for me to be riding her.”

  “I can understand that, but I think Joel would have wanted this. I think he’d be happy about it. How did you get to ride on her, anyway?”

  “Kayla suggested it. She’s been taking care of Santos for me.” His phone rings again and he looks at it. “Great. It’s my dad. I bet the vet or Kayla already called him.”

  “Want me to rinse her and you can take care of that?” I ask. “I’m finished here.”

  “You sure?”

  “Of course. Go ahead. I know what it means for you to have Santos get better. I’m sure you miss him.”

  “You have no idea.”

  “Go. I’ve got her. Find me later.”

  Riley nods, and takes off while answering his phone call. I hope everything will be okay. I know his parents are really tough on him—especially his dad. Thinking of his parents reminds me that my own father is somewhere on the grounds at this moment. It’s strange to know that the parent who abandoned me is nearby. The issues I have with him aren’t exactly the same as what Riley’s dealing with, but in some weird way, it relates.

  Why can’t the people who are supposed to love you the most simply accept you for who you are? How can a parent feel okay leaving a child? Do they stop loving you? I don’t have the answers to these questions, and I’m not sure I will ever find them. But then again, I know there’s going to come a moment, probably in the very near future, when I’ll have the opportunity to ask my dad those kinds of questions. And I can’t help but be curious as to how he might answer them.

  As I put Harmony away and go over to rinse Melody, I sense she is still somewhat anxious. I speak softly to her and touch her heart center. This is my chance to communicate with her. She was definitely edgy out in the arena. “It’s okay, baby girl. It’s okay. I know it’s confusing to be here, especially without Joel.” I show her an image of Joel’s face.

  She tenses up further and her nostrils flair wide as her breath becomes rapid. I stroke her neck. “Hey, hey, I promise that it’s okay. I’m here, and I’m going to help. I’ll help you and I’ll find out about Joel.”

  She then shows me a flash of a face. It’s a girl’s face, I think. I also get a flash of dark hair. Next, she shows me the pony—the same one she’s been showing me for months—the dead pony. After that she pulls back on the cross ties and starts to scramble as she slips some on the wet, slippery surface.

  “Whoa, whoa! Easy, sweet girl. It’s okay.” She busts one side of the cross ties and rears up. She comes down on all fours and just as I think she’s going to break the other cross tie and run like hell, I do something instinctively. I show her an image of Fairmont in which she’s grazing with other horses she knows—like Santos and Harmony. She begins to settle as she understands that she’ll be going back to Fairmont. “I promise you, sweet girl, you’ll go back to school with us. We won’t leave you here. Something bad happened here. I know it, and I’m going to find out what it is.”

  I clip a lead rope onto her halter, and unhook the cross tie on the other side. She jigs out of the cross tie, but I’m not worried. She’s definitely settling down. As I lead her back into the barn, I catch Chris Haverly watching us from the side of the barn. I look right at him. He wiggles his fingers at me. “Hello, Vivienne Taylor,” he says. “You sure have a way with horses. Nice job in handling that crazy one there.”

  I once again sense that tension from her, but I keep sending her the image of Fairmont and the pastures. “She’s not crazy. She’s just a little wound up today. Makes me wonder.”

  “Oh yeah? What makes you wonder?”

  “Horses have good instincts. Better than people. I had no idea you were watching us, but I think she did. And she didn’t like it.”

  “You’re cute.”

  “You’re an ass, and the horse here agrees. Go crawl back under your rock.”

  “Ooh, sassy. I like it. I like sass. Just wait, girlfriend, you and I are going to be very close before the summer is over.”

  I keep on walking along with Melody without responding to what Chris Haverly said to me. I can’t help feeling like his words are a threat.

  CHAPTER twelve

  After I put the horses away, I head up to the Commons House to grab a sandwich. I’d like to eat with Austen, but I don’t see him, which I realize is maybe a good thing. I know we have to be careful. Tristan and Lydia are at a table eating with some of the kids from other schools. He looks kind of lost. I turn away when he spots me.

  Chris Haverly is eating with Paisley and that Wills kid. I don’t see Janna anywhere, but I avoid eye contact as much as possible. I’m on a bit of a mission.

  Turkey and cheese in hand, along with a bottle of water, I go to the cabin where I climb on my bunk and turn on my laptop. First, I go into the documents I keep protected by a password. A few months ago I started keeping notes on the horses who communicate with me and what they’ve said. My idea is to, hopefully, begin to better understand what I’m capable of doing with my gift.

  One of the horses who I’ve had ongoing conversations with over the past few months is Melody. Ever since I started communicating with her back at Fairmont, I’ve been suspicious that she was the victim of a crime, because she has repeatedly shown me images of herself being drugged by someone—a male someone, who happens to be wearing a very nice watch. And who around here is a terrible guy who also happens to come from a family that makes some of the world’s premier watches? Yep, I’m feeling pretty sure that the perp is Chris Haverly. The question is, why would Chris be giving Melody an unwanted injection? And does it connect to the fact that Tiffany was suspected of drugging ponies? Joel certainly never told me that Melody suffered through a situation like this. Maybe he wasn’t aware of it? All I know is that I tend to trust horses more than I do people—and that Melody definitely lived through this bad experience.

  Horses don’t lie. And Melody has shared enough details with me that I know it’s for real: I’ve seen where the needle went in and sensed the drugged dizziness she felt entering the jump arena. The next image she always shows me is her getting caught up on the jump and going down along with the little girl riding her. Then, every time, I get the image of the dead pony—which, unfortunately, makes no sense at all to me. But her communications have been consistent. I just wish I could understand them better.

  Joel told me out on a trail ride last semester that a little girl had owned Melody before he had and that she’d been horribly hurt while jumping her. What did it all mean?

  I scan the notes on my laptop again, hoping I’ll find some new answers, but come up with nada. I set my laptop aside and lie back on my pillow, staring up at the ceiling—and will myself to figure this out.

  I sort through the puzzle pieces I have. First, there’s the fact that Joel’s stepmom lost her job here at Liberty for drugging ponies. There was a bit of a scandal and she lost some clients. However, the equestrian community does have a tendency to be quick to forgive. There are also those in the horse world who honestly don’t care all that much—people who see the animals as easy to replace. These types tend to have deep pockets and
can buy new horses on a whim. I realize that it’s pretty disgusting, but it happens to be the truth.

  I keep returning to my idea that Riley must know more than he’s telling me. He’s definitely got some inside dirt on Chris Haverly, and he also trained with Tiffany. Maybe he remembers the pony that died?

  Looks like Riley and I have some more talking to do.

  CHAPTER thirteen

  I shoot Riley a text and jump down off the bunk. As I do, the door opens and Janna pops in, all excited and peppy. She’d make a good cheerleader. “Hey,” she says. “How was your lesson?”

  “Good.” I’m not willing to add more to it than that. “And you?”

  “It was great. I worked with Holden. He’s wonderful.” She flashes her bright-white smile.

  “I can’t disagree with you there.”

  “He’s gorgeous too. I mean, I know I shouldn’t say that because he’s old enough to be our dad, but I am telling you, he’s like a Brad Pitt or a George Clooney, or maybe both of them rolled into one.”

  I laugh. “I guess. I never really think of him like that. He’s my coach, and a mentor.”

  “Oh, come on, you must think he’s hot.”

  I shrug. “Like I said, it’s hard for me to think of Holden as anything besides one of the best coaches I’ve ever had.”

  “Right. Besides, you have your hands full.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask.

  “Oh, I don’t know. I got the feeling that Tristan is pretty into you.”

  “Yeah, Tristan and I used to be a thing. But we’re so over. He’s back together with his ex, the ever-charming Lydia, and the two of them are perfect for one another.”

  “I don’t want to brag, but if there is one thing I know, it’s guys. And that guy is still way into you. You’re wrong about him and Lydia.”

  “I don’t think so,” I reply.

  “Oh yes, he is. I can tell by the way he looks at you and watches you. Whatever he did to screw things up, he’s feeling pretty damn sorry about it now.”

  “You know what, Janna, I don’t really want to talk about it. It’s over. He’s with Lydia and I’m good with that.”

  “I’m sure you are. You’ve got that other one drooling over you too.”

  There is an edge to my new friend’s voice. Something I haven’t heard in the past few days since meeting her. And it’s bugging me big time. “What are you talking about?”

  “Oh, come on. The working student—all brooding blue eyes, and dark wavy hair, and dimples, and muscles. Oh man, do I hope to see him at the pool. Speaking of, get your suit on. I heard everyone is going to the pool for the afternoon.”

  My stomach tightens. “First off, no one is drooling over me. Especially not a working student. Against the rules.”

  “Rules schmules—so meant to be broken.”

  “You’re wrong. I’ve known Austen since we were kids. He’s a friend and that’s all.” I hope she didn’t see us together. Paranoia is creeping over me and I feel a surge of worry. I hate that we have to hide being together, but we both have a lot to lose if anyone busts us.

  “Whatever you say.” She winks at me, then heads into the bathroom to change for swimming.

  Yeah, this other side of Janna—I’m not liking it so much. I hope I didn’t misjudge her. All I want to do is get out of here and talk with Riley.

  When she comes back out dressed for the pool, she says, “Get your suit.”

  “Thanks, but I don’t really feel like going to the pool.” As the words come out of my mouth, Lydia walks in.

  “Not going to the pool, Viv? Gee, why not? You afraid you might see someone you don’t want to see?”

  I roll my eyes at her. I do that a lot when it comes to Lydia Gallagher. “And who wouldn’t I want to see?” I ask. I look down at my phone as Riley returns my text. Of course, he’s going to the pool. Guess that I’m going for a swim after all. I look back at Lydia.

  She shrugs. “Don’t know. I just know you’re full of all sorts of little secrets and lies.”

  I pull my suit from the drawer and head to the bathroom. I hear Lydia laugh her evil cackle.

  “Why are you so mean to her?” Janna says as I close the bathroom door.

  “Mind your own business, mousy,” Lydia shoots back. “We have history. Your new BFF knows exactly why I love to get under her skin. Ask her about it.”

  Oh great. First off, she’s right—Lydia does get to me. Badly. I wish I could hide my annoyance better. Secondly, now Janna is going to want to give me the third degree.“Mousy?” I hear Janna say through the bathroom door.

  “It fits.”

  I sigh, slip into my suit, and put on a sundress, then walk out of the bathroom. It looks like Janna is going to start pulling hair or throwing punches, so I grab her arm. “Leave Queen B to herself.”

  We walk out and I notice that Janna’s hands are visibly shaking with anger. “You okay?”

  “Is she always such a bitch?”

  “Yes,” I reply. “She is.”

  “Want to tell me your story with her?”

  I shake my head. “Not right now.”

  “Okay. Let’s go swim, then.”

  I breathe a sigh of relief. Looks like Janna is going to mind her own business for a bit.

  As we walk, I broach the subject of Chris Haverly. “Have you seen more of Chris? Seems like you really like him.”

  “We haven’t gone out again, but I think I do like him. I mean, he’s really nice.”

  “He is?”

  “Yeah. He took me to a very expensive restaurant, and said I could order anything that I wanted, then we went out to an under-twenty-one club where we danced for a while. After that, we came back here. We took a walk and he even picked a rose for me. It was really sweet.”

  “That was it?” I ask.

  She glances at me. “What do you mean? Are you asking me if he tried something?”

  “Did he?”

  “No. He was perfectly respectful. He just loves bringing girls to the club with him.”

  There’s an edge to her voice that makes me wonder what she isn’t telling me.

  “We had a really good time. We did.”

  “That’s great. I’m happy you guys had fun.”

  I’m lying through my teeth, of course. I’m worried about Janna hanging out with the devil, but then again, I can’t police everything. And, selfishly, I realize that maybe her proximity to Chris might help feed me clues. I do find it rather interesting that he wined and dined her. It’s not that Janna isn’t a cute girl, but I pegged Chris Haverly as a guy who goes for the Lydia types—glossy. And that he’s so into the club? There’s something weird about that too.

  At the pool, I lay my towel on a lounge chair. “Let’s sit here.”

  Then I look around and spot Austen. He’s on the other side of the pool seated by Chris, which makes me cringe. But at least I know what he’s doing and I’m grateful for the help. I don’t see Riley yet.

  Janna immediately says, “Let’s go over there.” She points to Chris and Austen.

  I shake my head. “You know, I like it here.”

  “Don’t be a party pooper. You can be my wing woman. And there’s your friend. Don’t you want to catch up on old times?”

  If she only knew. I realize there’s no point in arguing with her, so I tag along and find myself awkwardly in a lounge chair next to Austen.

  “Hi, guys. We thought we’d join you,” Janna says.

  “I was just getting to know my new friend here,” says Chris.

  Austen smiles in a friendly way that impresses me. He can really fake it.

  “So, Austen,” Chris says. “What do you do out there in Oregon?”

  Chris looks at me and raises his eyebrows in a way that insinuates nothing good.

 
My heart stops for a second as I worry that maybe Chris suspects we’re together. But then I calm down as I realize there’s no way that can be the case. He’s just being a jerk and trying to rub everyone the wrong way.

  “It’s nothing compared to here,” Austen says, clearly wanting to pull Chris’s eyes away from me.

  Chris turns back to him. “Do you go for trail rides in the mountains? Go hunting? What?”

  Austen laughs. “Not so much on the hunting.”

  “You should come out with us sometime,” says Chris. “Us meaning me and James. Do you know him? Blond guy, Paisley’s boyfriend?”

  “Haven’t met him,” says Austen.

  I hope you don’t have to, I think. I still remember how awful the guy was when I joined Joel for dinner that night with Tiffany and Paisley in Lexington.

  “Anyway,” Chris continues, “James and I go shooting pretty often. My family has an amazing collection of rifles. Sometimes we even break out the antiques.”

  “Sounds fun,” says Austen. He actually manages to sound truly genuine.

  Before long, our strange little group grows; first Emily joins us, and then Wills shows up. Next comes Paisley, wearing a skimpy bikini with her light-brown hair looking windblown and teased, who sits down on the opposite side of Austen and flutters her freaking eyelashes at him. What the hell?

  And as if it can’t get any more surreal and bizarre, what I should’ve expected happens—Lydia comes walking through the gate wearing what I’m not sure could be quantified as a bathing suit, or even a bikini. It’s even tinier than Paisley’s. It’s kind of hard not to notice the guys’ jaws dropping. I can’t say that I blame them as boobs galore sashays across the pool deck toward us.

  “Oh man, would you look at that,” Wills says. “What’s her name again?”

  “Viper,” I reply. It escapes my mouth before I can stop myself.

  “Do I detect some jealousy?” Wills asks.

  “Not an ounce,” I say.