by Toni Leland
~~
Quaid moved along the almost empty aisles of the big barn, listening to the sounds of exhibitors packing up and moving out. He still couldn’t believe what he’d seen. It was just a fluke that he’d decided to come back and check one more time, even though the show was over. Were those Jasper’s horses? In place and waiting for transport to who-knew-where, playing a part in his scheme? Quaid’s original theory about Jasper using the stalls simply as a distraction had been the most logical, but now it wasn’t so clear.
He glanced at his watch. Where the hell was Kovak? He’d called her twenty minutes ago and she was staying right downtown.
“Quaid! Over here.”
He met her in the middle of the aisle and told her the situation, including that Jasper’s rig was still parked in the same spot.
She nodded. “Let’s have a look at the horses. I suspect someone’s just using the stalls as holding pens while they pack their trailer. But it could be something different altogether. And I think our original assumption is correct about the rig being a ploy to keep everyone guessing.”
They walked toward the corner of the barn, passing the open doors. Horse trailers were cozied up to the building for easier loading, and the shrill whinnies of horses on the move filled the air.
They rounded the corner and Quaid stopped.
“Nuts. They’ve already moved a couple of them.”
“Do you remember what they looked like?”
He rolled his eyes. “Oh yeah—brown, four legs. What do you think?”
She touched his sleeve. “Let’s move on down the aisle and see who comes for the last one. Then we’ll know.”
As she started past the stall, she glanced inside. “Quaid, I think that’s Robidoux!”
“Who-bidoo?
“The Thoroughbred we saw today with mystery man.”
“You go see if that trainer is still around. He’ll remember you. I’ll stay here and keep an eye on this situation.”
Kovak walked up the aisle and out of sight. Quaid moved farther away so he wasn’t standing right in front of Jasper’s stalls. A minute later, a short, dark-skinned man with a heavy mustache walked up to the stall and slid the door open. He stepped inside and Quaid heard a grunt. He moved forward quickly, arriving at the stall just as the man came out leading the large dark horse.
“Excuse me, Mister? Do you know where I can find a trainer named David Craig?”
The man’s brows came together and he shook his head. “He go home now.”
“Is he still here, is he going home soon?”
“Gone. I take the horse.”
Quaid glanced at the animal. He stood quietly, his ears slightly lopped. His eyes didn’t have the bright sparkle they’d shown earlier in the day. He’s been drugged.
The groom turned and led the horse away, and Quaid charged off to find Kovak.
She was just coming around the corner, shaking her head. “The stalls are empty, but someone in the same aisle told me David Craig and his horses left the grounds this afternoon, probably right after we talked to him.”
Quaid turned and gazed back toward Jasper’s stalls. “Then whose horse was that?”
Concern knitted her eyebrows. “I don’t know, but we should do something.”
She headed toward the doors.
“Like what?”
She didn’t answer and Quaid hurried to catch up. Outside, Kovak stood still, gazing at a shiny blue horse trailer with the words “David Craig Stables” in gold along the side.
She turned and shrugged. “False alarm.”
~~
Kim watched Quaid take a huge bite of his hamburger. So much for a nice pasta dinner. They’d stopped at a neighborhood diner with so-so food and a lot of noise. She picked through her salad, trying to decide whether to tell Quaid everything she knew about Teri’s affair. Kim had been the one who objected to the cat-and-mouse games they’d been playing, so why was she considering keeping to the same path?
Quaid wiped his mouth. “I did a license search on Jasper’s rig. It’s registered in his sister’s name.”
“Huh, just like the horses. Of course, I have no proof of that, but with the tax thing, I’m sure it was done on purpose for just such an occasion. What I don’t understand is why the sister wouldn’t also be implicated and charged as an accessory.”
He shook his head. “I’m pretty sure the IRS cannot seize property that belongs to a family member unless they can prove that the property was intentionally transferred to engage in tax fraud. There’s a timeline of some sort, but if those guys get it in their head to find something, they have the means to do it and they never give up.”
“You speak as though you have firsthand experience.”
“Not me personally, but I’ve been brought in on tax cases before. It ain’t pretty.”
Kim sat back. “Listen, I have to tell you something and I don’t want you getting all pissed off. I just haven’t had the opportunity before now.”
Quaid’s features smoothed into an unreadable mask. “I’m listening, but no promises.”
“We already guessed that Teri was having an affair, but I accidently learned the man’s name while I was making phone calls to find Teri’s relatives. He’s a client’s husband who lives outside Cincinnati. Teri was meeting him on a regular basis. The wife knew about it and was angry, rightfully so, but she also seemed to accept it. I thought that was strange.” Kim pursed her lips. “I don’t see where it has anything to do with the Talisman switch, but now I’m wondering if the wife might have something to do with Teri’s death.”
“Have you reported this to the police?”
“I was too upset after you told me the circumstances of the murder. It’s probably too late tonight, what with the three hour difference.”
“I can call the officer in charge in the morning, if you like.” Quaid smiled sheepishly. “I’m a real pain in her butt, so this might warm her up a little.”
“I’d appreciate that. I have things to do in the morning before I leave. Are you leaving tomorrow too?”
Quaid nodded. “What’s the lover’s name?”
“Wade Warren.” Kim pushed her plate aside. “Maybe we’ll be on the same flight.”
“No, I’m driving up to San Bernardino to check on something. I’ll be leaving later.”
Kim restrained herself. Quaid had more information he hadn’t shared, but she was really tired of the game-playing.
~~
Early the following morning, Quaid packed and checked out of the motel. San Bernardino was about an hour away, probably less on a Sunday morning. With any luck, after he met the people who’d sent their horse with Talisman, he’d have plenty of time to catch his flight to Texas. The more Quaid thought about the news of Teri Fortune’s lover, the less he considered giving the information to Deputy Dexton. She’d been obstructive and rude. Why would he help her? They had resources—he might even be telling them something they already knew. Now, if the lover had something to do with the horse switch, that would be Quaid’s territory. Once he had this trip behind him, he’d look into Mr. Wade Warren.
Heading due east, Quaid allowed his mind to relax for awhile and enjoy the early morning views on a quiet day. The area was like a postcard, the town spreading over the valley, the craggy San Bernardino Mountains as a backdrop. He checked his map again and headed east, passing the airport and arriving at the address the horse hauler had given him. The ranch was small, but well-kept. A woman came out of the barn and waited for him to park.
He held out his card. “Ma’am? I’m with United Equine Assurance.”
She frowned. “We don’t have money for insurance.” She turned to walk away.
“Wait, I’m here about something else. I’m not trying to sell you anything.”
She turned back and tilted her head. “I’m listenin’.”
“You shipped a horse with Cross Country Equine Transport last December, is that right?”
“Yeah, we sent Scooter to
his new home. Why?”
“Do you have a picture of him?”
“Sure, come on into the barn. My daughter’s whole show career is on the bulletin board.” The smile faded. “She don’t show no more, an’ we just can’t afford to keep many horses, what with the price of hay ’n’ all.”
Quaid followed her into a small tack room. One wall was filled with the memorabilia of a young girl’s love affair with horses.
The woman pointed to one larger photograph. “This is him and her, just won the local western pleasure championship. She was sure proud that day.”
The horse in the photograph was a good-looking chestnut with a cream-colored mane and tail. Certainly not a ringer for Talisman. Quaid was disappointed at reaching another dead end, but maybe he’d find some answers in Texas.
Chapter 27
Kim rose early the next morning, her head swimming with ideas about the strange happenings at the barn the night before. She was almost positive that the horse she’d seen in one of Jasper’s stalls was the Thoroughbred, Robidoux. But if David Craig had left early in the afternoon, wouldn’t he have had the horse with him? As well as the trainer knew the horse, a switch seemed improbable. Craig would know everything about Robidoux—markings, quirks, personality. But Jasper had also known his horse well and, yet, a double had taken Talisman’s place for over five months. Could the same thing have just happened to David Craig? Had she actually watched a ringer load onto that trailer?
She opened her laptop and examined all the photographs she’d taken over the past two days. She’d liked Robidoux so much that she’d taken dozens of pictures of him. If she’d thought to take a picture of the horse in Jasper’s stall, she’d have something to compare. Or maybe her imagination was simply working overtime. After all, Thoroughbreds were classically look-alikes, especially certain bloodlines. There could be dozens of horses that looked exactly like Robidoux, distinguished only by some marking or feature. The proof would be in performance. She bit her lip. David Craig’s champion would be a valuable prize for someone with no scruples and lots of money.
She dug through her shoulder bag and found his business card. The training facility was located in Oregon. If she called him, what would she say? Urge him to verify that he’d taken his own horse home? What if her worst fears were realized? She’d have a lot of explaining to do, none of it making much sense, even to her. She just didn’t have any proof to back up her theory.
She tucked the business card back into her bag and walked over to the window. The motel parking lot was full, and traffic moved steadily along the access road. If she was going to visit Victory Farms, she’d better get going. As she packed her suitcase and gathered her gear, she thought about the stolen Arabian filly. It had happened at a show. It had involved “musical stalls.” The confusion and sheer numbers of people and horses would be a perfect camouflage for theft. Moving horses around and making the switches could be done in a matter of minutes. She snapped the latches on her suitcase. She’d be willing to bet money that Robidoux was on his way to who-knew-where. Quaid had mentioned that the horse in Jasper’s stall seemed dopey when the groom led him away. If Craig had lots of help at the show, whoever loaded his horses on the trailer might not have recognized that they didn’t have the same horse. Or if the price was right, they might have been complicit.
Kim pulled out of the parking lot and stopped at the street, taking a minute to look toward the equestrian center. What the heck, it’ll only take a few minutes. When she entered the grounds, it looked different with no one around. She headed for the exhibitor parking lot and, a moment later, pulled up beside Jasper’s rig sitting exactly where it had been the whole time. Only now it was flagged with bright orange tow tickets. Jasper Martin was in the wind.
~~
The entrance to Victory Farms lay just off a scenic highway that had taken her through the foothills of the breathtaking San Gabriel Mountains. For an Ohio flatlander like her, the majesty of the topography made her think about just how small and insignificant her life and problems were. Nothing in her life couldn’t change, if she wanted it to.
The farm rambled over many acres, the pastures filled with straw-colored scrubby grass. The years of drought had taken their toll on California, leaving ranchers and farmers with few options other than herd reduction or dispersal. Mother Nature and the economy seemed to be in bed together, forcing ordinary folks to do extraordinary things.
She parked and sat for a moment, remembering her phone conversation with these people and trying to decide just how to approach them about their stolen horse. The door to the house opened and a man headed toward her car.
“Good morning, are you here about the gelding?”
She closed the car door. “Uh, no, actually I’m looking for a mare. Or a young one to train.”
He looked confused for a minute, then glanced toward the road. “Okay, we can probably help you out with that.” He started to walk toward the barn. “You looking for Western or English?”
“I was thinking of trying my hand at halter.”
He grabbed a lead rope off a hook on the wall. “I might have just the horse for you.”
He entered a stall, then brought out a beautiful gray mare with dappling over her rump and shoulders. Kim’s breath caught in her chest.
“She’s gorgeous! Without even knowing, I can see she’s got fabulous bloodlines.”
He grinned proudly. “Yessiree. She’s a full sister to another filly we, ah, just sold earlier this month. This gal’s almost three and ready for the perfect owner. She’s already started a little halter training, and she’s a quick learner.”
Kim composed her expression. She’d caught his stumble when he’d mentioned the other filly. Perfect opportunity to get into a conversation without him knowing what she was really after.
She followed the man down the aisle and out into the morning sun. He entered a small paddock and began showing off the mare, coaxing her into the halter pose and asking her to give her neck. She was clumsy and obviously green, but so gorgeous that, for a moment, Kim wanted to buy her. She almost laughed out loud at how close she’d come to believing her own charade.
The man smiled. “What do you think? Shall we write something up?”
Kim pretended to consider the idea, then put on an apologetic face. “Actually, I wanted a younger horse. You said you had a yearling that you just sold. Maybe something like that.” She brightened her expression. “Maybe whoever bought her would sell her to me.”
His eyebrows came together. “I doubt that, but come on back to the office and I’ll see what youngsters are available.”
Kim followed him into the barn and waited while he put the mare away. She might have made a mistake with that last comment, but it was worth a shot. The man took her to a large room at the front of the barn, a space filled with dozens of show photographs and ribbons and trophies.
Kim looked around. “Wow, you guys do good at the shows!”
“Yeah, we don’t keep any horses that don’t prove themselves immediately. Our reputation depends on perfection.”
He handed her a flyer. “Here are the sale horses. I only see one youngster on there, but I don’t think he’s what you’re after.”
Kim glanced through the list, then stepped over to the wall to look at the pictures. Sure enough, a framed photo of a gray filly foal was displayed prominently. The horse had a ribbon sash around her neck and wide, frightened eyes. Kim moved closer, her pulse quickening. At the edge of the photograph, almost out of the lens view, the familiar dark-eyed man watched from the rail.
Kim tapped on the picture. “This one’s gorgeous. Is she the one you sold?”
The man didn’t answer and Kim’s neck hairs stood up.
She turned and met his hostile gaze.
His tone was equally unfriendly. “Why are you so interested in that particular horse? A horse that’s not even here.”
Before she could respond, he gestured toward the door. “I think you’d better
leave.”
At that moment, Kim would have given anything to have a badge to flash. Instead, she drew herself up to full height and stared at him.
“I don’t know what your problem is, but you obviously aren’t interested in making a sale.”
She headed for the entrance, glancing back once. The man was talking on a cell phone and the expression on his face said it all. She’d pushed a button.
~~
Kim settled into a hard plastic seat at the departure gate for a flight to Columbus. If she got on this one, she’d have to fly to Atlanta and wait for two hours before heading back to the Midwest. The schedules and routes were a mystery, but at least she would get home a day earlier. And she was so ready to be home. She gazed out the huge windows. Planes taxied to and from the gates, baggage trucks zoomed around with their precarious loads, and tarmac personnel worked at breakneck speed to keep the flow of plane traffic moving.
The scene blurred as her thoughts moved to the hectic pace she’d kept the past few weeks. She was exhausted, and weary of the intrigue surrounding Talisman. She wanted to know what had happened and how and where, but the time had come to step aside for awhile and clear her brain. She picked up her phone and called Dixie.
“Would you like to take a little trip with me this week? Can you get a couple days off?”
“You must be a mind-reader. I finish field work on Monday and don’t have to be back until Friday.”
“I’ve been wanting to go down to Marietta and visit my grandfather’s old farm, kind of a trip down memory lane. It’s a pretty area and there are some good places to eat in the town. I just need some company right now.”
“I’d love to. Give me a call when you get back and we’ll scheme something up...hey, is everything okay?”
“Yeah, but this whole Talisman theft thing is getting me down. I need to step back from it for awhile. I’ll tell you all about it when I get home.” She chuckled. “Sometime in the middle of the night, if I get this standby flight.”
“Then I’ll see you tomorrow. Take care.”