by Sandra Cox
Jack, pacing the length of the kitchen paused, running a hand through his thick black hair. “I can research. I still think he’ll go after the power amulet.” He turned toward Hank. “Hank, do you know of any good PIs in the area?”
Hank rubbed his chin. “As a matter of fact, I’ve got a friend in Madison. I’ll give him a call.”
Maureen unscrewed the cap on her water. “What about Bella and me? What can we do?”
“Find out as much as you can about that fake society. Victor probably made some phone calls, got some information.”
She nodded.
Jack turned to Bella and grinned. “And I think you should make friends with the detective. He seemed quite taken with you.”
Hank pokered up. “I don’t think getting the police involved in this is a good idea.”
“Oh I agree,“ Jack said, still smiling at Bella. “I think our Miss Bella here can reel him in, find out what he knows without giving away any of the cards she’s holding.” He gave her a look that if it had been directed at Maureen would have had her knees crumbling. “Isn’t that right, sugar?”
Bella gave him her sexpot smile. “You’re a devious man, sugar. And I do love a devious man.”
“I’m going to take care of the horses. I’ll call Jim on my cell.” His jaw tight, his back stiff as a poker, Hank marched out of the kitchen.
Maureen winced as she heard the screen door slam. She turned to Bella. “I’ve got a spare bedroom if you want to stay here for the night.”
“That’s sweet, shug but I think I’ll head on in to Madison.” She winked. “I’ll be in touch.” Hips swaying, she walked out.
Jack watched her leave, a besotted grin on his face.
“Got a thing for older women, Dr. Wolfe?” Maureen asked, her arms crossed, her toe tapping.
“Just admiring her mind, Red, just admiring her mind.”
“Odd, didn’t look like you were staring at her head to me.”
He winked and headed for the den. “I’m going to see what I can find out about the power amulet.”
* * * * *
The police were back the next evening.
Wolf barked. Seconds later the doorbell rang.
On her way to the stable through the back door, Maureen turned around and headed toward the front of the house.
As she opened the door, her eyebrows rose. “Detective?” The younger man who had melded into the background stood in front of her.
“Miss Sinclair.” He smiled.
She blinked. His smile tipped the corners of her mouth up. How did you ever sink into the background? It was probably necessary in his line of work. She sized him up. Medium height, slender build, a runner she would guess, curly black hair and liquid brown eyes. She noticed he was doing some sizing up of his own.
Self-conscious, she pulled her hair back in a ponytail, let go and sighed as it flew back around her face.
The look on his face as he watched flattered her.
“Sometimes it’s best to leave what is fiery and untamed free to go its own way.”
Oh boy. This was one policeman it wouldn’t pay to underestimate.
“I’m sorry, Detective…”
“Cardoza. Anthony Cardoza. My friends call me Tony.”
She tipped her head to the side, studying him. “Bit of a chameleon aren’t you?”
“Ma’am?”
His expression looked perplexed but laughter lighted his eyes. He knew exactly what she was referring to.
She smiled from half-closed eyes. Two could play this game. “I can’t believe how you so successfully melted into the background yesterday. Is this a new version of good cop bad cop? Maybe talking cop, watching the reactions cop?”
He laughed. “I told Louie, Detective Russo, that you were sharp but I’m afraid Ms. Tremaine broke his concentration. It’s not usual to get him offtrack. May I come in?”
“I’ve got a pregnant mare I need to check on. Would you mind walking out to the barn with me?”
“Not at all.” He moved back and she stepped onto the wide veranda.
He looked about. “Nice place. I love these old wraparound porches.”
She laughed. “Old is the key word here, Detective.”
He studied the pristine white support posts. “Maybe but it’s in good repair.”
They stepped off the porch and walked round the side of the house leading to the barn. The sun shone and the leaves rustled in the trees as a warm breeze blew and carried a tangy scent of aftershave her way.
“Nice day.” He scuffed at the grass with the toes of his shiny black shoes.
She grinned. “Surely you didn’t come out here to talk about the weather.”
Straight white teeth flashed as he smiled back. “I was trying for subtlety but if you want to get right to it…” The smile disappeared and his expression grew serious his eyes intense. “Who do you think attacked you that night? And how in the hell have you healed so quickly? I saw you before the EMTs put you on the gurney. You were lucky to be alive, your left side was smashed, your bones in pieces and now you are blooming like a wild rose in my mother’s garden.”
Her heart began to thump and her mouth went dry. This is what she had feared, why she hadn’t stayed in the hospital. Why oh why couldn’t they leave her alone. She swallowed hoping the noise wouldn’t sound like a croaking frog.
They had almost reached the barn. He laid a hand on her arm. Reluctantly she stopped.
“Miss Sinclair, Maureen. May I call you that?”
She nodded, unable to speak.
He tipped his head, studying her. “An old-fashioned name for an old-fashioned looking girl.”
She sniffed and rolled her eyes.
He flushed. “I didn’t say that very well. What I meant to say was there is nothing contrived about you. You look fresh, vital and earthy with glorious red hair, emerald eyes and a tall lithe body.”
“Detective, why exactly are you here?”
“Overstepped it a bit didn’t I?” He laughed his expression rueful. “Louie may have made a mistake, letting me out on my own.”
“I doubt it.”
“Well please forgive my faux pas. I tend to forget about professionalism when I’m around you.”
“Detective, are you flirting with me?”
He grinned at her, the evening breeze lifting his hair. “Pretty obvious aren’t I? Would you consider having dinner with me some night?”
She glanced at him, uncertain how to respond.
“Well, would you?”
At that interesting moment, the barn door opened and Jack stepped out. He stopped when he saw them. Surprise, then speculation crossed his face as he came toward them his stride slow and easy. “Detective,” he said holding out his hand. “What brings you back this way?”
“I had a few more questions.”
“And did you get the answers you were after?” The two men sized each other up.
Maureen blinked. They looked for all the world like two stud stallions after the same mare.
“Not yet but I’m persistent.”
“A good quality in your line of work.”
Tony nodded and smiled. “Same for an author I’m sure.”
Jack gave a clipped nod of acknowledgement, then said, “Well, don’t let us hold you up.”
“I think I’ll stick around, I might be able to help out.”
Maureen felt a rush of relief. “Good idea. Did you look at Sweet Nothings?” She turned to Tony. “She’s the mare about ready to foal.”
Jack walked to the barn door and held it open. “I’m not an expert but it looks to me like she could drop any time.”
Maureen hurried toward the stall of a dainty little chestnut with a protruding belly. She walked in and examined the horse making soothing noises. “I think you are right.” And I won’t have any extra help to give her if something goes wrong. For a moment she laid her head against Sweet Nothings’ shoulder.
“Miss Sinclair, Maureen.”
&nb
sp; “Hm?” She felt rather than saw Jack eye the detective sharply.
“Can you give me any idea of who would want to run you off the road?”
“Maybe it was a freak accident,” Jack put in smoothly.
“Maybe.”
“But you don’t think so,” Jack said.
“I think there are too many loose ends here,” Tony said his gaze on Maureen.
“Such as?” Jack queried.
“Such as Miss Sinclair’s amazing ability to heal, the tan marks on both her and Ms. Tremaine’s arms.”
“Don’t you think you are reaching, Detective?” Jack said.
“I believe Miss Sinclair can speak for herself, professor.”
She moved her gaze from the horse to the policeman. “I think you are reaching too.”
He laughed an easy sound. “It’s what I do. Looks like you are going to have your hands full.” He looked into her eyes, a small smile playing at his lips. He took out a card and scribbled a number on the back, reached across the stall and handed it to her.
Without looking at it, she stuffed it into the pocket of her jean shorts.
“The phone on the front is my office number. The number on the back is my cell. Call me.”
He gave an abbreviated nod in Jack’s direction. “Professor.” He thrust his hands in his pockets, turned and strolled out whistling.
“What was that about?” Jack demanded leaning against the stall as he watched the detective walk away.
“I have no idea,” she said shortly and went back to examining the horse.
Jack snorted through his nose. “Huh.”
The pleasant sounds and smells that she’d known since childhood filled the barn, comforting her as she ran her hand over the horse’s raised tailbone.
He cleared his throat, his manner nonchalant, asked, “So what did he say?”
She walked to the horse’s head and ran her hand over Sweet Nothings’ sweaty chest. “Oh the usual.”
“Which is?”
“Did I have any idea who ran me off the road, how did I heal so quickly and would I like to go out for dinner.”
“Well that’s a new interrogation line.”
Her hand on the mare, she looked up at his derisive tone but his expression was bland. “Is there a problem?”
“Did you ever think he’s trying to pump you for information?”
She laughed, “You think?”
“You aren’t worried?”
She wiped her damp hand on her jean shorts then pulled her hair back behind her head with the other. “You think he’ll whisper sweet nothings.” She tipped her head toward the horse murmuring, “Sorry sweetheart,” then turned back to Jack, “and then I’ll spill my guts?”
The horse dropped to her knees then rolled onto her side. Maureen pivoted back toward the mare. “You were right. She’s in labor.”
“What do you want me to do?”
She threw him a grateful look. Bless the man. “Get me iodine, scissors, towels and a couple damp cloths.” She glanced at the horse. “Her water’s broke.” Maureen’s voice rose on a note of panic.
“You’ve delivered foals before haven’t you?”
“Yes but for the past two years I’ve had the amulet. If something goes wrong…”
“If something goes wrong, we’ll call the vet. We’ll get through this together. I’ll be right back.”
His calm voice soothed her and she smiled her thanks.
The mare nickered, her nerves twitching under her skin.
Maureen ran her hands along the horse’s neck. “It’s okay, girl, you heard the man. We’ll get through this together.”
She moved to Sweet’s hindquarters and touched the udder. Thick white liquid dripped from it onto the clean hay. “It won’t be long, girl.”
Sweet Nothings quieted. Maureen stayed by her side watching the mare’s legs stiffen and stomach contract. Where was Jack? She needed the supplies…and the moral support.
Just as Maureen rose to relieve a cramp in her leg the mare’s sides heaved and a hoof protruded from her hindquarters.
Maureen’s breath quickened and her heart pounded. Cold beads of sweat stood out on her forehead. It had begun.
The mare pushed again and the leg appeared.
“Why aren’t there two? There’s supposed to be two legs.” She stroked Sweet Nothings neck. “Don’t worry, girl. Marnie’s here, nothing’s going to happen to you or the colt.”
Jack opened the stall door. “How’s everything?”
“One leg,” she muttered. “There’s only one leg. There should be two.”
Setting down the supplies, he hunkered down beside her, balancing easily on his heels.
“Should we call the vet?”
“Not yet. Stroke her face and neck with the damp cloth. It’ll soothe her.”
“There’s a girl. You are such a brave girl and will make such a wonderful mamma.” His voice had a low magnetic quality like the pull of the tides and calmed both the horse and Maureen.
“Try again, Sweets,” Maureen urged.
As if in response the horse pushed. Nothing happened.
“The leg isn’t moving.”
The horse pushed again.
“Get Hank,” she bit out, forcing herself to stay calm so she wouldn’t upset the mare.
“Didn’t he go to the store?”
“Yes, yes, dammit. Get him on the cell. There, girl,” she soothed.
“What’s his number?”
She reached in her pocket and pulled out her cell. “Never mind, I’ve got him on automatic dial.“ She fidgeted while it rang. “Come on, Hank. Come on.
“Hank, where the hell are you?” Her voice shot up uncontrollably as she spoke into the phone.
Jack laid a restraining hand on her arm and his warmth blasted through her. “You need to calm down for the mare’s sake.”
She ran restless fingers through her hair. “I know. I’m just not used to doing this without the amulet.”
“You can do it.”
She took a deep cleansing breath, breathing in the sweet smell of fresh hay that vied with the scent of blood and approaching birth. “Right,” she said then spoke into the phone. “Hank, Sweet Nothings is trying to foal and only one leg is out. Yes, she’s been pushing but nothing’s happened. Okay will do.”
She turned to Jack. “He said to give it a bit longer and if nothing happens call the vet.”
Jack pushed her hair back from her forehead, his touch gentle. “Maybe the doctor too, I’m not sure who this is harder on, you or her. “
“I can guarantee you it’s her,” she answered, her voice dry.
Sweet Nothings bit at her stomach.
Jack reached down and patted her. “Trying to do a C-section, ole girl?”
The horse strained and still the leg appeared stuck.
“I’m calling the vet. I can’t take much more of this and she shouldn’t have to suffer so.” Maureen hit automatic dial.
“Wait, Marnie, look!” Excitement coursed through Jack’s voice.
Maureen sucked in her breath as the horse heaved and the sac shot out filled with a spindly legged foal.
* * * * *
He’d intended to stop with the two amulets he truly had. But he now knew how foolish that would be. He’d been made for more. Imprisoned by a sick grotesque body, he’d been set free. Free through his own wile and intelligence. The gods had tested him and he’d passed their test. It was destiny. He was meant to rule the world.
Chapter Nine
“Oh my God, help me get the sac off him.” She shoved the phone in her pants pocket and reached for a towel.
He handed it to her. “You did it. And without the amulet.”
“I did, didn’t I?” she smiled smugly.
They went to work wiping the colt down with the soft cotton cloths. “Cut the umbilical cord and soak it with iodine,” she directed as she toweled the mucus out of his nose. “Oh you little beauty.” Tears shone in her eyes.
&n
bsp; The mare lifted her head to watch the proceedings but made no move to get up. “You were wonderful, Sweets. Just wonderful,” Marnie told the mare as she cleaned up the front half of the colt and Jack worked on the back.
Sweet’s tossed her head up and down as if in agreement then lay back in the straw.
Toweling the colt, Maureen laughed. “A mother’s prerogative after what you’ve been through, girl.” The colt’s slick dark coat was lightening to bay as it dried, except for his spiky little mane and tail, which matched the color of the hay he was laying on.
“These two aren’t Arabians,” Jack observed, hunkered on his heels, leaning forward over the colt.
Maureen could feel the bones melting in her face, her lips twitching upward and knew she looked like a moonling but just couldn’t bring herself to care. “No these two aren’t papered ponies.” She reached over and stroked Sweet’s neck. The mare nickered. “Sweets was at auction. When I saw she was pregnant, I outbid the slaughterhouse to get her. She’s a fine riding mare with a sweet disposition, no more than five years old. She’ll make someone a wonderful companion.”
She glanced up and saw a flash of anger hover over his features as he reached over and stroked the mare’s hindquarters, the gesture protective. He glanced at her and the anger dropped away replaced by warmth and pride. His lips turned up in the same goofy grin she knew she wore. “Well the slaughterhouse didn’t get these two. You’re a saint Maureen Sinclair.”
She felt a flush of embarrassment tinged with gratitude heat her cheeks. “Not hardly.”
“Okay, maybe saint is the wrong word. But hero, I think, works.” He leaned over the colt and placed his lips on Maureen’s.
She felt her eyes widen then close. Her breath came out in a rush in his mouth. His lips were gentle, the kiss as light as a butterfly and yet it ignited a fire that took Maureen by surprise as she felt a sharp hot tug in her belly.
He lingered for a moment then withdrew as delicately as he’d approached.
She felt the heat on her face, felt her pupils dilate and just had the wit to close her gaping mouth.
He grinned at her. “I could do better if I didn’t have a colt between us.”
“You did just fine.” Maureen wished she didn’t sound so breathless.
“What are your plans for this little one?” He motioned toward the colt who’d raised his head and was looking around.