Liberty and the Dream Ride

by Stacy Gregg

  Tiggy looked surprised. “I expected you to take the easier options on Comet because he’s so little.”

  “I know,” Issie agreed, “but Comet can handle himself over big fences – and besides, with his little strides he’s slower in the gallop than the other horses, so I can’t afford to waste time by choosing the longer routes.”

  “You’re sitting in fifth position on Blackthorn Comet and eighth on Valmont Liberty,” Tiggy said. “Which horse do you rate your chances on?”

  Issie froze. She didn’t know what to say. She had taken Liberty on as a chance ride for the experience and to help out Marcus, but truly it was Comet that she was pinning her hopes on for glory.

  Based on her cross-country track record with Liberty she would rate finishing without a broken bone as a success – but she was hardly going to tell Tiggy that!

  “I can’t choose between them,” Issie told Tiggy. “They are both great horses. I’m very grateful to the Valmont Stables for giving me the chance ride on Liberty.”

  “Tactful answer,” Tiggy said as if she didn’t entirely believe her. She stepped closer to Comet and lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Tell me the truth – did you have any qualms about taking the ride on Valmont Liberty, what with the money troubles?”

  “What are you talking about?” Issie said.

  Tiggy’s whisper grew hoarse with gossipy excitement. “I’ve been hearing rumours this week from some very good sources,” Tiggy said. “Tyrel Valmont has what you might call a ‘little problem’ with failing to pay his bills. My sources say the tax department has demanded three million dollars by the end of this month, and if Valmont can’t come up with the money he’ll have to sell the stables!”

  Tiggy saw the expression of complete shock on Issie’s face.

  “You didn’t know about any of this?” Tiggy asked.

  “No,” Issie said. “Not until now.”

  “Valmont is determined to keep it hush-hush,” Tiggy told her. “He doesn’t want anyone to know that he’s having financial difficulties, especially as it’s not the first time. He was nearly bankrupt last year until a two-million-dollar cash injection out of the blue sorted everything out. Now he’s back in trouble again… and you just happen to be his star performer.”

  Issie’s cheeks flushed hot and she tried to pull her thoughts together, unable to shake a feeling of growing concern. “I’m sorry, but I need to go now,” she said, hurriedly looking at her watch. “I have to warm up and get ready.”

  “Not before you promise me the exclusive interview with you at the end of the competition!” Tiggy said. “Horsing Around ’s readers would love to hear the story of your first Four-Star.”

  “Fine,” Issie said. “Just let me go!”

  As Issie trotted Comet back and forth in the warm-up arena she tried desperately to focus on the imposing cross-country course ahead of her, but for some reason all she could think about was Tyrel Valmont and his money problems. If what Tiggy had said was true, then Valmont was putting up a bold front when actually he was on the brink of financial ruin!

  Now in possession of his stopwatch, Avery had arrived at the warm-up arena brimming with last-minute advice. “Keep your eyes constantly on your watch and check your timing markers on the course as you go,” he reminded Issie. “The optimum time of sixteen minutes and ten seconds is very tight and Comet will be hard-pressed to make it. You’ll need to gallop hard the whole way to—”

  “Issie!” It was Marcus and Tara Kelly.

  “We know you’re on your way to the start box,” Marcus told her. “We just came to wish you good luck.”

  “Thanks,” Issie said. Then she asked, “If you’re both here then who is back at the stables with Liberty?”

  “Stella’s getting her ready for your next ride,” Tara said. “And I saw Mr Valmont earlier – he mentioned that he might check up on her before she competes.”

  “Issie!” Avery said. “We have to go. They’re calling you now. You’re due in the start box.”

  As soon as they reached the box, a white-coated steward stepped forward and grabbed Comet by the bridle, leading the skewbald into the wooden fenced-off area where he would wait until the starter set him off to begin his cross-country.

  The steward looked at the little skewbald, who was already getting anxious in the small space and was clearly keen to begin. “Are you ready to go?” he asked Issie.

  “No! I mean, wait! Just give me a moment!” Issie said, hanging on to Comet, who was beginning to dance about beneath her. “I just need to talk to that boy over there before I go.”

  She waved her hand frantically to beckon Marcus over.

  “What is it?” Marcus asked as he hurried to her side.

  “I need to ask you a question,” Issie said. “When Valmont Promise died, was he insured?”

  Marcus frowned. “Yeah. There’s an insurance policy on all Valmont horses, but for Promise it was a big one, like, millions.”

  Issie felt her heart racing and it wasn’t because she was about to ride a cross-country. “Marcus, this is important. Who got the money when Promise died?”

  “Mr Valmont, of course!” Marcus said. “It was his horse!”

  “And if Liberty died? Who would get the three million dollars that Liberty is insured for?”

  “I…”

  Marcus didn’t get the chance to answer. The start-gate steward finally lost his patience. “I’m sorry, Miss Brown,” he said, “but your time is up. Are you ready or do I have to disqualify you?”

  Issie was starting to get a very bad feeling about Tyrel Valmont, and she had more questions to ask Marcus, but the gate steward was serious – she couldn’t delay any longer.

  “I’m ready,” she said reluctantly, gathering up her reins and rising up in her stirrups.

  “And four… three… two… one… go!” The steward’s flag dropped and Issie and Comet shot forward out of the box out on to the rolling green turf of the Kentucky Four-Star cross-country course.

  “Day two of the Kentucky Four-Star,” Mike Partridge’s voice rang out over the Tannoy. “The cross-country is underway and you’re about to see the fourth competitor for the day, Isadora Brown on Blackthorn Comet, take her first fence – the Lexington Flower Box.”

  The Flower Box was a straightforward jump, but as Issie came towards it she pushed Comet on hard nonetheless. Avery had long ago taught her always to ride hard at the first fence. Often the horse hadn’t yet woken up to the fact that he was about to start jumping and there was nothing in the world more frustrating than an unnecessary refusal at the first jump.

  Issie kicked on and Comet flew the flowers, settling immediately into a powerful forward stride as they approached fence two, the Stone Walls.

  The Stone Walls were a classic cross-country fence, solid and imposing. Comet popped them easily, his tail swishing as he flew the second element. He was buzzing with energy and keen to get going, his gallop opening up on the next stretch of green turf before they reached fence three, a round wooden jump known as The Mushroom.

  As they bore down on the jump Issie knew that she should be focusing on riding the most important cross-country course of her entire life, but instead her mind kept leaping back to her conversation with Tiggy Brocklebent.

  The journalist said Valmont was strapped for cash last year, but then miraculously received two million dollars. Was that money the insurance payout made after Valmont Promise’s tragic death? And now Valmont needed three million dollars in a hurry – the exact sum he would get if Liberty died!

  Was it possible that Valmont killed one of his own horses for the insurance money and was planning to do it all over again with poor Liberty? Marcus had admitted that he thought Liberty wasn’t really worth three million – Valmont would never actually get that price if he tried to sell the mare. Far better to knock her off and get the full amount.

  Issie realised a few strides out from the Mushroom that she hadn’t got Comet on the right line and had to
put her legs on quickly to steer him straight. The skewbald took the jump a little unbalanced and knocked it with his hind legs. The white grease on his legs helped him skim over it without injury, but Comet dropped his nose on landing and Issie had to sit back to balance him up again so he didn’t fall to his knees. It was a close call and the crowd gasped as the pony very nearly came to grief.

  “Oh!” Mike Partridge echoed their concern. “Almost a nasty incident there at fence number three. She’s still in the saddle, but can this seventeen-year-old rider pull the Pony back together again? Because coming up we have one of the biggest spreads on this course, the Bridge.”

  As The Bridge loomed Issie still wasn’t focused. Her brain was whirring. She was thinking back to Rio Rancho. Marcus had mentioned calling Valmont from the motel. She hadn’t thought anything of it at the time, but now she realised that this meant Valmont had known exactly where they were that night. Could he have sent one of his men to dispose of Liberty there?

  And what about the other night here in the stables at Kentucky Horsepark, when Marcus had fallen and broken his arm chasing the intruder? Could the hooded figure have been Valmont himself? The green passcard she’d found in the stables could easily have belonged to Valmont – his card had gone missing!

  And if Valmont was now attempting to do his own dirty work then he was clearly getting more daring and more desperate as the deadline for his giant tax bill approached.

  The Bridge came up suddenly in front of Issie and she kicked Comet on – one-two-three strides and hup!

  “Beautifully executed over the Bridge on Blackthorn Comet,” Mike Partridge trilled. “This is exactly the sort of performance we were hoping to see from this young rider hoping to make her dreams come true. Here she comes now in towards the Angled Rails and she’s taken those beautifully as well! Now the long gallop round the curve of the track as she comes in to tackle the Duck Marsh…”

  As Issie headed towards the water jump she didn’t know what to do. She was convinced that her suspicions were right and that Valmont was responsible for Promise’s death. He must have drugged Promise before the horse went out on to the cross-country course, causing the heart attack. Valmont was killing his own horses for the insurance money and he was planning to murder Liberty next!

  With a sickening dread, Issie realised that Valmont was already on his way to the stables with Marcus’s passcard right now. He was going to get to Liberty and dope the mare before the cross-country! Issie felt her stomach clench. Stella and Liberty were in terrible danger and Issie was the only one who knew it – and she was stuck out here, riding the most important cross-country of her entire career!

  “Here she comes,” Mike Partridge called out. “Isadora Brown is taking the bold, direct line straight into the Duck Marsh just as she’s done at every jump so far, and look at this pony ploughing fearlessly into the water! Three neat strides and there he goes over the wooden duck! Brilliant riding on a very narrow fence – now which way will this young rider go? Will she go left and take the long route over the low rail or right and choose the short route over the jump into the second phase of the water?”

  There was a gasp of amazement from the crowd as Issie did neither. She made a sudden U-turn in the water, galloping hard back the way she had come.

  “Extraordinary!” Mike Partridge said. “She’s turning round completely! She must have lost her path and got confused because she’s going backwards! I’m afraid the judges may be forced to penalise this. There will be time faults here and possibly elimination and… hang on a minute! What on earth… where is she going?”

  The crowd of onlookers were utterly mystified by her change of direction, but Issie knew exactly what she was doing. She was no longer competing in this cross-country. She couldn’t take the risk of finishing the course when there was so much at stake. The time on her stopwatch had ceased to matter – she was racing for something far more important. She had to get to the stables straight away. She had to get back – before it was too late to stop Valmont.

  Chapter 12

  As Issie and Comet thundered past the jump stewards and sideline officials they began shouting and waving frantically, trying to direct them back on course. On the Tannoy, Mike Partridge and Betsy Bevan were completely flummoxed.

  “I’ve seen riders get eliminated for taking the wrong route,” Betsy Bevan was telling the crowd, “but in all my years I’ve never seen a rider suddenly start galloping in completely the wrong direction!”

  Mike Partridge spluttered. “Isadora Brown and The Pony were clear at the Duck Marsh and unbeliev ably they’ve thrown it all away! This young girl, such a great hope for the sport of eventing is now galloping for… well, we don’t know where she’s going!”

  As she bent down over Comet’s withers and urged the skewbald on, Issie ignored the shouts of the concerned onlookers and rode for all she was worth.

  It had been a snap decision halfway through the water jump to turn round and go back. Had Issie really just thrown away her chance to win the Kentucky Four-Star? All that hard work, those dreams, the sacrifice and the sweat, and the future of Laurel Farm and her horses had been cast aside in one sudden, crazy moment.

  What if her theories about Valmont amounted to nothing more than an over-active imagination? How would she explain herself to Stella and Avery when there had been so much riding on this for all of them? But it was too late to change her mind now. Issie’s impulsiveness had already destroyed any chance she had of winning the Four-Star.

  And yet in her gut, Issie was certain that she was doing the right thing. If Valmont was planning to sabotage his own horse then he would do it now, while Marcus and Tara were out of the way watching the cross-country. He would give the mare the same drug that he had given Promise and when Liberty died in the middle of the cross-country course it would look like a heart attack, just like the last time. Poor Liberty would die in front of thousands of spectators and TV cameras, and Valmont wouldn’t be anywhere near her at the time. It was the ultimate alibi for a perfect crime and the only person left in Valmont’s way was the young girl in Liberty’s stall preparing the mare for the cross-country… Stella.

  Issie stood up high in the stirrups and urged the skewbald on. They had already raced back past the Angled Rails, the Bridge and the Mushroom and now as they reached the Stone Walls, Issie veered sharply to the right and headed away from the jumps and straight towards the course barrier.

  Comet took one look at the four-foot-high red and white striped barrier rails and his ears pricked forward. Finally here was something to jump at long last!

  The pony flew over the barrier as if it were nothing more than a cavaletti. Issie gathered him up and pushed him up to the bridle once more, galloping on towards the stable blocks. They were now in the avenue that led to the stables and they were approaching the traffic checkpoint. In the booth ahead the security guard saw Issie and her horse coming and stepped out, raising his hand to signal its rider to stop, blowing his whistle loudly.

  “Sorry!” Issie shouted at him, “this is an emergency!”

  The guard’s whistle let out a shocked tweet as he realised that the rider wasn’t stopping. He didn’t have time to raise the arm of the security gates, but it didn’t matter. Comet flew over that too like any other cross-country obstacle and Issie caught a quick glimpse of the guard’s stunned face as he watched her gallop past.

  When they reached the end of the avenue Comet’s shoes chimed out on the concrete of the stable yards and Issie knew she had no choice but to slow down – it was too risky to gallop on such an unforgiving, slippery surface. She pulled him up to a trot and they wove their way down the first row of stalls heading for Stable Block D.

  When they reached the stables the wide wooden sliding doors were already open and they trotted straight inside. Liberty’s loose box was down at the far end and Issie trotted Comet until they got near and then vaulted down off the skewbald’s back and ran the rest of the way on foot.

  “Stel
la!” Issie shouted as she reached Liberty’s box. “Stella, are you in here? Is everything OK?”

  And then Issie saw her friend. She was sprawled out in the far corner of the loose box, her red hair covering her face as she lay prone and lifeless on the straw.

  “Stella!” Issie raced towards her. She wasn’t moving! What had Valmont done to her?

  The stomping of hooves on the straw surface of the loose box floor made Issie suddenly stop in her tracks. She turned round and saw Liberty at the other end of the stall. Tyrel Valmont was gripping her halter with one hand. In the other, he held a syringe full of lethal-looking yellow liquid. Valmont clearly hadn’t been expecting to be disturbed, least of all by Issie, who was supposed to be out on the course. A horrified expression passed over his face, but then he quickly composed himself.

  “Thank goodness you’re here,” he said unconvincingly. “I just came in and found your friend on the ground. I think the mare must have knocked her over.”

  He tightened his grip on Liberty’s halter and took a step forward. “You look after your friend and I’ll take Liberty into another stall out of your way and—”

  “Let go of her!” Issie warned him. “You’re not taking Liberty anywhere!”

  “I’m sorry?” Valmont looked wryly amused that this young girl was standing up to him. “Are you telling me what to do with my own horse? Because I don’t take orders from my staff and the last time I checked, you were working for me.”

  “I know what you did to Promise,” Issie said, holding her ground. “I know you killed him for the insurance money.”

  Valmont’s sense of humour disappeared. “That’s a very serious claim, young lady,” he said. “I’d be very careful about what accusations you make.”

  As he said this, Valmont let go of Liberty’s halter and took a step towards Issie, and suddenly she realised that she had said too much.

  “There’s no need for anyone to do anything they might regret,” Valmont said as he moved closer towards her, the syringe still held aloft in his hand. “Come on, let’s talk about it…”