by Toni Leland
The rider nodded, then turned his horse and trotted toward the gate. Kim looked at the card, idly wondering if he lived anywhere near Jasper Martin. Her mental scrutiny of the Talisman mystery returned and she strolled toward the indoor arena, mulling over the facts as she knew them. She didn’t have much concrete evidence, but something wasn’t right about the whole thing. Her investigative skills smelled a rat.
Kim settled into one of the seats in Shareen’s front row box, glancing briefly at the growing crowd. During the early part of a horse show, when qualifying classes were held, family and staff usually comprised the spectators. But on stakes days, the audience swelled to near capacity for popular breeds like Arabians. Kim glanced at the program. Shareen’s horses had qualified for two championships today and two tomorrow and, in a few minutes, one of Sahara Riih’s beautiful three-year-old colts would compete against other equally magnificent horses for the futurity title. After the dinner break, the exciting and entertaining costume class would be the highlight of the evening, being one of the most popular spectator classes of the entire show. Kim looked forward to photographing the dazzling outfits and fantastic trappings each owner put together for that class.
Setting the program aside, she adjusted her camera for light and distance, then panned across the arena to get a feel for the setting. A moment later, a line of exquisite colts pranced into the ring, floating at the ends of their leads like fantasy mirages, each one as beautiful as the next. They were all legs and attitude, but the fine bones were clearly visible, a promise of the future. Kim spotted Shareen’s trainer, a handsome young man of obvious Middle Eastern blood. He focused on the colt at the end of the lead, moving with the animal and making it appear that the two of them were one. Many of the other contestants were clearly having a tough time controlling their young charges, but Shareen’s colt was the picture of obedience. Kim captured him in frame after frame. She lowered the camera and studied the field of thirteen animals. How hard it would be to choose the one that would win thousands of dollars for his owner. Twelve other breeders would lose their futurity investment at the end of this class. The idea seemed more risky than Kim would be willing to undertake.
Forty minutes later, Shareen’s colt was named futurity champion. Kim gasped and stood up quickly, capturing the horse’s almost slow-motion trot toward the ring steward who held the winner’s rosette and sash. A minute later, Kim hurried along the rail toward the exit. Her step slowed when she spotted the security guard standing with Shareen, who was clearly taking no chances. The colt would never be out of sight for even a minute. A heaviness settled into Kim’s chest. Such a depressing concept.
~~
Back in her hotel room, Kim washed away the day’s grime with a long, hot shower, spending that time to reflect. She’d taken a minute to look at Clark Jennings’s jump photos. They’d turned out better than good and she was feeling smug. The images would probably earn her some extra cash, not to mention the possibility of adding another solid client. She thought back to when she’d found herself suddenly retired and casting about for meaning in her life. The photography had started as therapy, but then became an obsession. She’d immersed herself in the craft and, once she’d become known amongst the different breed communities, the work had come in waves. It had been frightening at the time. She’d barely emerged from the horror of her scrape with death. Should she take the chance? What if the business dried up? What if she had no work during the winter months? What if, what if...
She stepped out of the shower and wrapped herself in the soft oversized towel. Right now, life was good.
Chapter 5 ~ New Albany, Ohio
Though a little buzzed from the drive home, Kim still wanted to inspect the shots she’d taken. She hooked up the camera and sat back as the images started uploading. She stared at the spinning rainbow icon on her Mac screen, her thoughts turning to Albert’s invitation to visit them in Egypt. Her pulse gave a little skip and she almost shivered. One of her bucket list items could be a reality. She opened her appointment calendar to December and, with a decisive click, highlighted the entire month. Returning to the upload screen, she caught a glimpse of Shareen’s magnificent mare on a victory pass around the arena. Supreme Champion Egyptian Mare. That win had so overwhelmed Shareen that she’d reverted to her native tongue and couldn’t stop babbling for at least fifteen minutes. Kim chuckled. Those horses were, indeed, Shareen’s darlings, a substitute for the children she’d never borne. Kim sobered. In a society where motherhood was akin to sainthood, she herself knew only too well how hard it was to be a woman without children. But for Shareen, it had not been by choice.
The computer signaled the completion of the upload and Kim turned back to her work. First, the culling, selecting the best of the images and discarding the duds. Each photograph would then need identification and inventory assignment before she began loading proof copies into an online light-box for Shareen to view. As Kim worked through the photos, her sharp eye noted inconsistencies in backgrounds, or unnecessary people and objects that detracted from the overall image. She usually tried to compose the shots, but it wasn’t always possible. Several excellent images of halter horses were marred by light poles or a banner in the background. Cropping sometimes helped, but if she had other shots, she usually just discarded the photos with distracting backgrounds.
After working her way through the arena shots, she moved on to the candid photos she’d taken around the complex, including Shareen’s stall setup. As she worked, something began to nag at her. What was her brain trying to tell her? She scanned back to the beginning of the set and clicked slowly through. Sahara Riih’s stalls and displays were beautiful, but she didn’t see anything unusual. Too bad she’d been unable to keep the security guards out of the pictures.
“Oh, my gosh, that’s it!” She leaned closer to the screen. “They are in every shot!”
Had they been purposely keeping her in their sight? She shivered, then tried cropping or cloning the men out. It would take some time, but she could eliminate them from most of the photos. Unfortunately, she couldn’t eliminate their reason for being there.
The situation with Talisman and Teri Fortune rose to the top of Kim’s thoughts. She’d been so busy the past few days that she hadn’t thought much about it. Maybe there were new developments. She’d give Teri a call on the pretense of checking to see if the photo CD had arrived. She scribbled a note to herself, then returned her attention to the Kentucky photographs.
As she worked through the candid shots taken around the Horse Park, her interest sharpened. In almost every barn shot, a man and woman appeared in the periphery or background. A small coil of concern moved through Kim’s chest. She zoomed in on the figures in one image and examined their faces carefully, then moved to the next photo, and the next. They were the same people. Were they owners or breeders? Possibly scouting for horses to buy? Maybe something worse?
To the casual observer, this would have been a coincidence. To Kim Kovak, retired special duty police officer, there was no such thing as a coincidence.
A soft knock on the door sent a jolt through Kim’s chest, then she exhaled sharply. Would she ever learn to relax?
Dixie came through the door carrying two frosty bottles of Corona and a large lime.
“Quittin’ time!” She headed for the kitchen. “I thought we could celebrate my upcoming doggie training.”
Kim got up to follow. “Aren’t they going to give you a dog that’s already trained?”
Dixie turned, her eyes sparkling. “I have no idea, but I can’t wait! I haven’t been this excited about anything since I was a kid.”
Kim found a bottle opener, then cut the lime while Dixie expounded on her new career.
“I can’t decide whether I want to do drug detail or search and rescue.”
“Are you given a choice? I suspect the department will use you where they need you.”
Dixie clinked her beer bottle against Kim’s. “Doesn’t matter, I’m gonna lov
e it.”
A minute later, she leaned close to Kim’s laptop screen. “Pretty horses, but it looks like a lot of work to do that showing stuff.”
“Yep, and expensive.”
Dixie sat down. “Speaking of expensive, you ever hear anything more about that switched-out horse?”
“No, but I’m beginning to think it was more than an accidental mix-up. My trip to Lexington was a real eye-opener.”
Dixie listened closely while Kim related the Van Khotens’ views on the state of the horse industry. Dixie finished her beer and sat back, concern knitting her eyebrows.
“Yeah, the horror stories of desperation make you wonder if the country will ever recover.” Her features hardened. “And some bastards just see it as a chance to benefit from someone else’s misfortune. Makes me sick when we have to deploy officers to disaster areas to prevent looting, for Pete’s sake! Like the flooding last summer. God, I just wanted to go down there and start shooting!”
Kim didn’t say anything. She’d never seen Dixie so fired up.
Dixie grinned. “Sorry, I need to keep my lip zipped or I’ll be in trouble with Internal Affairs.” She glanced at her watch and stood up. “Speaking of which, I have to be at the training center early tomorrow. I’d better scramble.”
“Good luck. Be sure to let me know how your first day goes.”
As the door closed, Kim’s phone rang and an unfamiliar area code appeared on the screen.
“Kim Kovak Equine Imagery.”
“Hi, this is Clark Jennings in Pasadena. You took some pictures of me at the Horse Park last week.”
“Hello, Clark. Nice to hear from you.”
“I was wondering if you got any good shots.”
“I did, and I’m in the process right now of downloading and preparing proofs. Give me about thirty minutes and you can look at them on the website.”
“Great. Hey, listen, would you be interested in being the photographer for our regional qualifier show? It’s next month in Burbank. I know this is short notice, but we had some internal problems in the organization and the person in charge of show photographer dropped the ball.”
Kim opened her calendar screen. “What are the dates?”
“Fourth of July weekend. It’s a nice show, and the facility is fabulous.”
“That works for me. Send the show contract within the next three days to confirm it. You might want to check my website for my fees.”
He chuckled. “Oh, I already did that. We’re good.”
“Thanks a lot. I’ll look forward to this. I haven’t been to California in years. Those proofs will be available shortly. Let me know if you like any of them.”
“After looking through your website, I’m sure they’ll be spectacular. Thanks again.”
Kim set the phone aside and blocked out the California dates, then surveyed her upcoming photo shoots. She’d need to be careful about over-scheduling or she’d be exhausted before December.
The photos of Jennings were mostly good, needing no cropping or adjustment. She uploaded the thumbnails to her website and verified all the links. She was just composing a quick e-mail when Teri Fortune called. Kim’s thoughts turned to how she would steer the conversation.
“Hi, Teri. Did you get the photo CD?”
“It came yesterday, but I haven’t had time to look at it.”
Something in the girl’s voice told Kim that things were not going well.
“Hopefully because of lots of new business?”
“I wish. Actually, just the opposite. One of my oldest clients is taking her horses home. Says she can’t afford me in this economy, but my paranoia is telling me it might be because of the problem with Talisman.”
“How would anyone know about that so soon?”
“Hah! The horse grapevine is faster than the speed of light. And Jasper is a regular megaphone when it comes to something that involves him.”
“Where’s he from, anyway?”
“Altadena, California. I wish he’d go back there and leave me alone.”
Kim chose her words carefully. “Is he still threatening you?”
“Not in person, but a private investigator for the insurance company called yesterday. He’ll be out here snooping around on Wednesday. I can’t believe Jasper is doing this to me.”
“Wait a minute, Teri. An insurance investigator would be looking into Jasper, not you.”
“You’re probably right, but this whole thing is going to affect me in the long term.”
“If you want, I can come up to lend moral support. I have some prints to drop off over your way.”
Teri’s voice broke. “Would you? I could sure use a friend right now.”
“I’ll be there.”
Kim hung up and opened MapQuest.
“Well, now isn’t that interesting. Altadena is just a few miles from Burbank.”
She paced about the living room, her head whirling with the Talisman mystery. Something soft bumped against her ankle and she leaned down to stroke her roommate’s silky fur.
“And where have you been all day, Miss Kitty? Sleeping in my clean laundry again?”
She scooped up the cream-colored cat and cuddled the animal against her chest, delighting in the soft rumble of contentment. She thought again about Teri’s distress—the girl had good reason to worry about her reputation, but should certainly welcome an investigation into the problem. If she had nothing to do with the switch, she had nothing to worry about.
Kim stopped abruptly. If she had nothing to do with it? Why would that thought even cross her mind? Teri Fortune was the last person anyone would suspect of being involved in something shady. But Albert Van Khoten’s words rang in Kim’s head. Desperate people do desperate things. Could Teri be in dire enough financial straits to try something so risky? And for what gain?
Kim began pacing again. No, someone else had pulled this stunt and Kim’s instincts homed in on Jasper Martin.
Miss Kitty let out a plaintive meow when Kim deposited her on the couch. A minute later, Kim searched the Internet for the trainer and his fancy horse. The last mention of Martin and Talisman had been in November when the horse competed at the Washington International Horse Show. Kim had attended that event as a spectator and she remembered watching Talisman at the jump-offs. He’d seemed perfectly sound, so why would Jasper take him off the circuit for so long?
She typed in the web address for that show and looked through the links. As she’d hoped, video footage of the event was available online. A minute later she found the highlights of the jump-offs, and Talisman in all his glory, sailing over obstacles without a hitch. She sat back and nodded. Could the claimed tendon pull be a cover story? But for what?
She moved away from the news items and video clips, searching her portfolio for the photos that she’d taken herself during the Washington show. Two hundred and thirty images appeared. Surely, in all of these, she had pictures of Talisman. What difference it made, she didn’t know, but she still wanted to check. As she scanned slowly through the photos, a cold pool of recognition flooded her gut.
Two familiar faces showed in the background of almost every candid shot. The same man and woman who’d been at the Kentucky show the previous week.
Chapter 6 ~ Cleveland, Ohio
Garrett Quaid scowled at the manila folder in front of him. What the hell was going on? This would be United Equine Assurance’s fourth theft claim this year that involved using a lookalike horse. Someone was being quite clever, buying time so the trail would go cold. But the emerging pattern sent a powerful message of skillful organization.
He slipped the file into a black leather portfolio, then walked down the hall, passing several cubicles where insurance adjusters worked. Stepping into a large comfortable office, he smiled at the woman behind the desk.
“I’m headed for hicksville to sort out this latest switcheroo deal.”
“If anyone can figure it out, it’ll be you. Bring me some money-saving news.”
Quaid’s reflection in the polished elevator doors made him straighten up and suck in the small gut that had appeared out of nowhere in the past year. Damned desk job didn’t help his fitness routine. He frowned. What fitness routine? He’d been slipping lately, losing his drive to stay lean and mean since leaving the Army. A heavy pressure moved into his chest and he looked up at the green numbers slowly marking his descent to the lobby. Had it really been four years already? A loud ding, the doors opened, and Quaid stepped away from the memories that gunned him down in every unguarded moment.
Striding across the marble floor toward the exit, he did a mental review of the cases that bore such resemblance to each other. They had the earmarks of fraud, but so far he’d been unable to prove that. Too much coincidence for his taste and he knew, if he dug deep enough, he’d find at least one common element. Even the fact that the cases were from all over the map didn’t sway his belief that they were perpetrated by the same person or group. The big question was, just how many people were involved? If horses were being taken out of the country, quarantine stations and customs and all the other red tape would need to be compromised to swing it. Could this be something that big? But why did he even think the horses were being exported? Maybe they were simply being taken to slaughterhouses in Mexico or Canada. He shook his head. No, selling valuable horses for big prices was the answer, otherwise the operation was just too chancy for all involved. But someone was going to a great deal of trouble to find exact doubles for the theft-targeted horses.
An hour later, he pulled into the grassy parking spot next to his tiny house in Chagrin Falls. Climbing out of the car, he took a deep breath, always happy to come home. The cottage had cost him a small fortune, but had been a refuge during the hardest time of his life. A place to hide, lick his wounds, and satisfy his need for solitude. He walked toward the back door, glancing at grass that needed mowing and landscape beds that needed weeding. Spring had surged over the state early and he hadn’t caught up yet.