by Toni Leland
Teri’s barn was closed up tight and the pastures and holding pens were empty. Kim’s stomach flip-flopped. What if all the horses were already gone?
She pulled up next to the black Mercedes and took a deep breath, composing her opening comments. As she reached for her shoulder bag, she spotted Bandit’s flyer on the floor. Grabbing it, she grinned. The perfect reason to come back and ask questions.
If Bandit was still there.
She hurried toward the barn door, worry gnawing at her gut.
The stillness inside the barn made Kim’s skin crawl. At first glance, all the stalls appeared to be empty. Oh-no, he’s gotten rid of all of them! She walked slowly toward the office, glancing toward Bandit’s stall. Without going directly to the stall door, she couldn’t see if he was in there or not. Better find Fortune first before he found her snooping around.
As she approached the office door, she called out, “Hello?”
A loud whinny echoed through the building and she whirled around to see Bandit’s handsome face appear over the stall door. At the same time, Reggie Fortune stepped into the aisle.
“What are you doing here?”
Kim offered her hand. “I’m from the insurance company, remember?”
His eyes narrowed. “You guys are taking your sweet time on this investigation. I need to finalize my sister’s estate and get on with my own business.”
Kim pretended innocence. “Oh? You’re not in the horse business?”
“I’m a banker and I’ve been away from my office too long as it is. Are you here to finish this up?” He gestured toward the office. “I have the final board bill for the last month. Someone from your company said I could send it to the insurance company.”
Kim hesitated, afraid to take her charade too far. “Shouldn’t it go to the owner?”
“That asshole says the horse isn’t his and he won’t pay board fees. He’s pissed because he says my sister lost his horse.”
Kim pulled out the flyer. “Jasper Martin is not the registered owner. The horse in that stall was stolen in Texas. As for the lost horse, we have no proof that your sister had anything to do with it. More likely, this is an insurance scam.”
“So now what do I do with him?”
Kim could barely contain herself. “I know someone who’ll take him until we get this thing sorted out. How much is the bill?”
Fortune’s phone hummed and he turned away, murmuring a short response, then closed the phone. He swiped a piece of paper off the desk and handed it over. Kim looked at it and sucked in her breath.
Staring him straight in the eye, she said, “This is for real? From what I remember, Teri charged about half this amount for board.”
Fortune didn’t miss a beat. “I could always just send him to the killer auction.”
So we’re playing chicken, huh? Kim’s instinct told her that Reggie Fortune wouldn’t hesitate to ship this horse, or any horse, off to slaughter.
A car door slammed outside and Fortune moved quickly to the desk and picked up a folder. A minute later, a man in a nondescript brown suit came into the room and flashed a badge. Kim’s brain reeled with suspicion. Was he a real detective or another pretender?
“Mr. Fortune, I need you to come with me to the station to answer some questions.”
“About what?”
The man turned and gave Kim a pointed look. “You’ll have to excuse us, Ma’am.”
She gave his look right back. “Which station are you with?”
The man’s eyebrows came together. “Local PD. Homicide unit. What’s your interest here?”
Kim shrugged. “Just curious.”
The man escorted Reggie through the barn and, the minute they disappeared through the door, Kim scurried over and peeked out the window. A plain-Jane gray sedan, typical of unmarked squad cars, was parked behind the Mercedes. The man in the suit opened the rear door and Reggie climbed in. As the car backed around to leave, Kim caught sight of the driver. It was the fake cop from the cemetery. Had Reggie Fortune just been thrown into the lion’s den?
Kim’s heart thudded and the adrenaline rush sent all sorts of wild thoughts through her head. She could be totally wrong, jumping to conclusions with no proof. She counted back to when Teri was murdered. It had been ten days. If the police had questions for Teri’s brother, wouldn’t they have already asked them? Surely Reggie Fortune didn’t murder his own sister, but possibly he knew or suspected who did. Could he have any connection with Teri’s lover, Wade Warren? Anything was possible.
She looked at the board bill again. Fifteen hundred dollars. Reggie Fortune was the real bandit here. Tucking the invoice into her bag, she moved to the desk, scanning the papers and folders strewn across the top. A phone number scrawled on the back of a business card caught her attention and she picked it up. The number had an unfamiliar area code. The printed side of the business card informed her that Reginald Fortune was an executive vice-president of Fortune Five Hundred Financial Services. She pocketed the card, then stepped out into the aisle. Bandit saw her and squealed again, bobbing his head and banging his hoof against the door.
Kim laughed as she walked toward the horse. “You miss me? Or are you just lonely being the only guy left in the barn?”
Bandit nosed her arm, then nuzzled her shoulder, chuckling deep in his throat. Kim’s eyes burned and she leaned her face against his smooth cheek, inhaling the indelible scent of horseflesh. The sensation sent her reeling back to her childhood, then fast forward into her life as a mounted cop. My God, I’ve missed this so much.
She smoothed her fingers along his neck. “I’m gonna get you outta here, I promise.”
A quick glance inside the stall told a sad story. The bedding hadn’t been changed in days and Bandit was looking a little thin. Kim hung her shoulder bag on a halter hook, found a lead rope, and went into Bandit’s stall. No way was she leaving this place without taking care of him.
She found a relatively clean stall and put him in it, then climbed into the hayloft. The large area contained only five bales of hay, confirmation of what the women at the cemetery had said. Teri had been on a shoestring.
Bandit eagerly buried his nose in the hay and Kim found a manure rake and wheelbarrow. As she settled into a steady rhythm, she thought about her conversation with Clark Jennings. He’d been most sympathetic, but of course she’d had to offer to repay the fees they’d sent her. She groaned. And now she was considering shelling out a bunch of money for Bandit. She stopped scooping.
“Where in the world am I gonna keep him?”
His whinny echoed through the barn and she grinned.
“Don’t worry, I’ll think of something,” she called out.
An hour later, the stall was filled with fresh shavings, the water buckets scrubbed and filled with clean water, and the hay bag overflowing. Kim put the tools away and walked toward Bandit, who’d been watching her carefully for the past fifteen minutes. The connection she’d made to this horse seemed to be one that he felt, as well. They’d bonded through the sad circumstances of his theft and abandonment. Did he remember his loving lady? Kim was sure that he did, but animals were resilient and Bandit now had a chance for a new life with another loving lady.
While she waited for Reggie’s doubtful return, Kim found some grooming tools and set about restoring Bandit’s hygiene. The familiar movements and strokes of brushing, and picking a mane and tail soothed her beyond her wildest imagination. It had been too long and she was so ready. Again, the question of where she would keep him prodded her. There were some fancy stables in the Greater Columbus area, but with the loss of her computers and clients, Kim didn’t think she could afford to consider something local. Dixie might have some ideas. Kim glanced at her watch. Dixie’s hours were a little longer than normal, but she’d be home later in the evening. Maybe they could hatch a plan for Bandit’s living quarters.
Thinking of Dixie took Kim back to their time in Marietta. It had been one of the best and most relaxing weeke
nds she’d had in years. Dixie had been such good company and, as they’d roamed the town and explored the shops, it had been no different than Kim remembered spending time with girlfriends when she was younger. After a nice lunch in the hotel bar, they’d driven out to Kim’s childhood home. She’d been almost panicky as they approached the road where her grandfather had lived for over sixty years. At one point, she’d told Dixie it was a mistake, she shouldn’t be trying to go back, that it was going to be awful. Dixie had calmed her, saying that everything changes and people have to change, too, and move forward. Never look back, that was what she’d said.
As it turned out, the farm was well-kept and looked just the way Kim remembered it. The house was painted, the barn still a little lopsided, but in good repair, and the fences were all intact. In fact, some sheep even grazed in one of the pens at the back of the barn. It was a good homecoming.
Kim’s hand stopped in mid-stroke across Bandit’s rump as she remembered seeing a sign by Grandpa’s driveway. “Pasture for rent”
Chapter 36
Around five o’clock, Quaid stared bleary-eyed at the rush hour traffic on Independence Avenue. He’d lost track of the time and now would pay the price. It would be at least an hour before they got back to the motel. He glanced over at Ricky. The boy’s eyes were closed and he leaned against the window. Quaid turned his attention back to the sea of taillights, wishing he could do the same thing. His thoughts turned to Kim Kovak’s misfortune. If she’d been robbed because of those photographs, then it stood to reason that her personal safety was no longer an issue. Or was it? Whoever took the photos had what they wanted, but could they be sure she didn’t have copies?
Back at the motel, Ricky turned on the TV and Quaid ordered a pizza, then hit the shower. When he came out, Ricky was sound asleep. With any luck, they could head for Arlington in the morning. A rush of anticipation gave him gooseflesh. He hadn’t seen his old unit in years. It was time to reconnect, in more ways than one.
He gently jiggled Ricky’s shoulder. “Hey, Sport, better wake up before the pizza gets cold.”
The boy opened one eye, then burrowed back into the pillow. “Inaminit.”
Quaid sat down and took a bite of pepperoni swimming in cheese. He leaned over and pushed on the bed.
“Rick, get up. You need to eat.”
Another bout of grumbling, then Ricky sat up and yawned. “Okay, okay. You sound like my mom.”
Quaid ate another piece of pizza, lost in thought. Kovak was a smart gal. Maybe the photography was something she did just to keep from thinking about what she really wanted to do. She was a cop, through and through. Her analytical mind, penchant for detail, and ability to see several scenarios in a situation were qualities highly sought after in law enforcement. She also had that annoying stubborn streak—she probably thought of it as being independent—but it was intriguing in its own way. He’d never been around a woman quite like her. And why was he even thinking about this?
~~
Glowing in the morning sun, the impressive gate façade towered above the circular ceremonial area of Arlington National Cemetery. Soft tones of gray and terra cotta contrasted against the blue sky and greenery surrounding the entrance. Quaid looked up, examining the domed ceiling of the structure, noticing for the first time the precision placement of each six-sided medallion. He’d never been through this entrance before, and though he’d spent several years there, the sight of the nation’s graveyard still sent a crush of emotion through his chest.
He drove slowly along Roosevelt Drive, all his senses absorbing the perfect rows of white headstones top-stitching acres of brilliant green grass. He’d walked or ridden these roads so many times he wouldn’t be able to give an exact number, but it seemed as though it had been only yesterday. He glanced over at Ricky, his small face silhouetted against the window, his eyes focused somewhere in the distance. Quaid’s chest tightened. Was this a good idea? Was Ricky ready to visit his dad and refresh the pain? Quaid swallowed. Was he?
Ricky sat forward suddenly. “Look! The horses! Can we go over there?”
Alongside another sector, the soul-stirring sight of six white horses drawing a flag-draped caisson sent a burn to Quaid’s eyelids.
His voice cracked. “We can watch from over here. This is a solemn and sad occasion for the soldier’s family. We shouldn’t intrude.”
Ricky whispered, “Yeah, I remember, even though I was only a little kid.”
Quaid smiled sadly. Four years was a long time to a child, but thank God that time would eventually heal the wounds.
They sat in silence, watching the procession wend its way along the road toward an area where a small group of people stood beneath a dark green canopy. How many times had Quaid watched this same scenario play out? Hundreds? Considering the over 300,000 burials, his own few hundred seemed hardly worth mentioning.
“Can we go see Dad now?”
Quaid eased the truck forward, the unpleasant pressure growing in his chest.
Ricky looked out the window. “This place is huge!”
“Six hundred and twenty-four acres, to be exact.”
“What will happen when they run out of room?”
Quaid closed his eyes. How long would it take to fill up Arlington? He let out a quiet breath. Surely someone in Washington knew the answer.
“I have no idea.” He pointed to an area on Ricky’s side of the truck. “Right over there is President Kennedy’s grave and the Eternal Flame. It’s been burning since 1963.”
Ricky nodded. “I don’t remember him, but my teacher talked about him.”
Quaid drove back to Roosevelt Drive and headed for the amphitheatre complex.
“Do you want to see the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier?”
Ricky nodded and Quaid turned into the parking lot.
“Boy, this place is busy,” said Ricky. “Are they all here for funerals?”
“No, it’s a big visitor attraction to people all over the world.” He dropped his voice. “Our country’s fallen heroes sleep here with honor.”
A few minutes later, they stood in front of the massive marble monument that honored those who’d died nameless and unclaimed, a travesty that had always made Quaid’s heart ache. Ricky read the inscriptions while Quaid wondered how emotional their next stop would be.
Ricky turned and nodded solemnly. “I’m sure glad my dad isn’t in this one.”
“Me too,” whispered Quaid.
They walked in silence back to the truck. Quaid thought about his brother and how good their bond had been. Ben had always been the responsible, sensible one—Quaid the impulsive, usually-in-trouble one. Even as adults. Ben had found the one girl for him and married her, settled down, done things right. Well, most things. Getting killed wasn’t one of them.
Quaid drove toward the southeast section of the cemetery, then pulled over to the curb to allow room for another horse-drawn caisson headed toward another final chapter. He inspected the dark horses, remembering their good nature and willingness to do whatever they were asked. As always, they were sleek and shiny, perfectly groomed, and wearing the black leather harness proudly. The soldiers looked straight ahead, never distracted from their solemn duty.
“Why did you quit the Army? Was it because of Dad?”
Quaid looked over at the only living blood relative left in his life. “The hardest thing I’ve ever done was to walk beside that caisson that carried your father to his grave. Forever after that, I couldn’t perform my duties without those images. I owed it to my comrades to be a productive member of the unit, and I wasn’t.”
“Are you gonna go see ’em and say hi?”
“I was thinking about it. Would you like to?”
“Yeah, that would be cool. Let’s go see Dad first and then we can visit your old job.”
~~
Dixie stopped by the next morning, and laughed when Kim told her about the plan for Bandit. “Boy, you’ve got this all figured out, don’tcha?”
“
Mostly, but I need to do something quickly before the county gets involved. I’m sure that the guys who picked up Reggie Fortune are bogus.”
“I can find out, if you like. It might be that with all the funding cuts, the sheriff’s department is outsourcing to PI’s. It could also be the reason Quaid has had such a hard time getting information from that deputy.”
“Yeah, that’s a possibility. If you can find out anything, let me know. It will be handy to have some cards up my sleeve when I meet with Quaid.”
Dixie set her coffee mug down. “Still playing games?”
“Hah! You should talk.”
“Oh, yeah, that. I’ll take care of it soon. Leave you a clear shot.”
“Wha-at?” stammered Kim. “No, that’s not the way it is.”
Dixie chuckled. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out. Gotta go, Saskie’s waiting. See you tonight.”
The door closed behind her and Kim sat still, trying to corral the thoughts vying for attention in her head. Before she had any luck, the phone rang.
“Ms. Kovak? This is Sergeant West with the New Albany Police Department. We found your computers.”
~~
Quaid took a deep breath and pulled up to the gate at Fort Myer. An MP stepped up to the truck window and Quaid handed over his ID card, then turned to Ricky, who already had his out. The guard examined the cards, then handed them back and saluted.
“Have a nice day, Sir.”
Quaid nodded and put the truck in gear, easing forward into a world he’d never forgotten.
“Why did he salute you? You’re retired.”
“Protocol. Once a soldier, always a soldier.”
“Do you miss it?”
“Some days more than others.”
He parked the truck and turned to Ricky. “When we get inside the stables, you have to stay out of the way and be careful. These men are busy and on a tight schedule. They won’t have time to chat much. And don’t go near any of the horses that aren’t in their stalls. They’re working, and I don’t want you to get hurt.”