She had to talk to someone about her dilemma and went to find Armand, although she guessed he would suggest taking the French option. She trudged round to the outbuilding that Armand was converting, but there was no sign of him, even at the bungalow. He could be anywhere with so much still to do around Hazelmead.
It was after five, so she tried calling her father on his mobile, but he wasn’t answering either, only the message service. Typical architect—he must be in another meeting. She needed someone now, except this was getting irrational. Sweat stained her t-shirt. Should she ring Lina? Was her advice good? Was she still a true friend she could trust?
Thirst cramped her mouth, and her stomach ached. She pulled out her glucose meter. Her blood sugar was too high. She cursed as she glanced under her damp shirt—her insulin pump had died. An injection resolved the immediate problem, but she needed to ensure it didn’t happen again. If left uncontrolled, hyperglycaemia could cause her serious harm, damaging her body irreversibly. Or as with her mother, kill her.
TWENTY-SEVEN
Armand tried hard to escape, but all he could see was Odette Fédon's face frozen in fear and a figure shrouded by the storm. It was always the same horror, of her untimely death at the hands of an unknown killer.
I couldn’t have coped with another burial, but Lina should have gone. She was as close to Odette as Gilles. I don’t need any more memories to face; witnessing her murder was hard enough.
It was all he could do to send flowers, Euphorbia fulgens, as they had always been Odette’s favourites.
I’ve a harder anniversary to live with, and France to remember as well. Can I handle going back to Saumur? They will attend the event, especially if Wanda is competing.
First, Canada. The memory of that day in the blizzard and all its echoes haunted him. Could it be that those were just the older memories, trying once again to unhinge him and unleash his guilt?
I need to focus, or the nightmares will return, and I will have to stay hidden from everybody, or just end it. No—concentrate. I can defeat the demons.
He stared at his notes, assessing his suspects again. No bolt of inspiration, but it was an aid to his dilemma.
After working in the fields mending fences and thinking through his observations, he had returned home and re-assessed his list of suspects; two stood out.
The exchange of briefcases had prompted Armand to run a computer search on Mick and Roman.
Mick was an exemplary sales rep for Vidarranj, with previous positions in the industry and a brief career as a jockey. He had no obvious skill with weapons or snow skills, and there was nothing to fault him on, as with Roman.
Roman had set up Du Noroît after leaving the Canadian Army. His posting with a support battalion merely covered the supply of essential equipment. His claim to be an ex-Major had proved unfounded. He was only a corporal who had failed to be promoted. Still, Armand was not ready to ignore Roman’s role as a facilitator who could have access to weapons. If Odette Fédon had discovered any underhand dealings, it would be a motive to order her killing. Being in his meeting was merely a convenient alibi.
Armand had to add Patrick Harfang to his list of suspects, although he had so little information about him. Harfang’s company Vecheech had a share in Boissard Équestre, which was vulnerable to a takeover. Neither Roman nor Gilles had inherited Grand-père Boissard’s business acumen and the means to combat a financial predator. Harfang was friends with Roman, and now Gilles was his employee, although that seemed out of character for the playboy. There must be some debt tying him to Harfang, which he had tried to reduce by selling off his expensive toys and cars. The covert horse deals had to be connected as well. Were they for Vecheech? Or had he been acting independently, perhaps with the assistance of Odette?
He noted what he could about Harfang, although so much remained speculation.
PATRICK HARFANG
(a) Motives: Discovered Odette was involved in misuse or misappropriation of Boissard Équestre resources
(b) Opportunity: Unknown as an invisible recluse
(c) Profile comparison: Being an invisible recluse, masked skills required and his knowledge
(d) Evaluation: Motive medium/high; profile match x/6
According to media knowledge, or perhaps just speculation, Harfang had shown a ruthless business streak and had access to a range of services. He would have the means to hire an assassin for himself or a partner like Roman Boissard.
Did all this suggest that Gilles was the next victim if he was still deceiving his business colleagues? Unless Gilles was working off his arrears, under threat of death. Still, this was all purely supposition.
Find the killer, and I have the motive and the paymaster.
As night closed in around the bungalow, he tuned his mind to those of the night hunters, who were seeking out their prey, as he also had to do with lesser tools.
Now is the time to be Loup, but without my pack—without the Zoos, my trusted friends. Those days must stay buried in the past. I can’t ask them to stand beside me again—not when I failed so tragically before.
TWENTY-EIGHT
“Damn, he looks terrible! No way that’s jet lag!” said Carly, as she led the horse out of the horsebox.
A crowd of owners and riders gathered by the yard at Hazelmead, studying the horse. Hairy and forlorn, his head hanging low, Pin stared at those surrounding him, feeding their anger and concern.
“It can’t be true, yet it’s the only reason,” said Armand, walking around the horse.
Carly nodded. “The bastard had him castrated—probably when he arrived in Canada. Gilles will be livid! No way did he know when he phoned. Saumur is out, as his muscle is pretty wasted. We won’t have time to get him fit.”
“Merde, what was Roman thinking? It’s madness for a stud with so few stallions left.”
She glanced at her watch. Gilles should have landed at Gatwick well over an hour ago.
“I should ring and warn Gilles.”
The 4x4 appeared and pulled up beside the farmhouse. As the onlookers went back to work, Gilles rushed towards Carly, arms wide.
“I’m so sorry, babe, it’s been so hectic. I would’ve phoned but...”
He froze, letting Carly slip from his grasp.
Tears welled as he noticed Pin.
“Câlice, he’ll pay for this.” He threw his arms around the horse. “Why punish poor Pin for my decision? It makes no sense unless...”
“…this is him warning you what he can do,” said Armand, voicing what Gilles couldn’t say.
“He doesn’t know what I can do, Loup. I’m going there now, once Lina knows.”
Gilles stared hard, his eyebrows furrowed and mouth thinned. He pulled out his phone, took some photos of Pin, texted them and then called Lina. He walked off towards the farmhouse, cursing his psychotic father.
Carly had never seen him so incensed, except when he threw the scissors. She tried to control her panic by settling Pin in a stable and giving him a high vitamin convalescent feed.
As Armand helped her, she sought reassurance.
“Lina will calm him down, won’t she?”
“I hope she can. We can’t have them both fighting with Roman.”
Carly assumed that this meant that Lina would erupt as well, although she couldn’t blame her. Inside, she was seething at the injustice and ready to confront the cold-hearted bastard herself.
*
It was half an hour before Gilles emerged from the farmhouse and it was clear that Lina had fuelled Gilles's rage. A measured response had been too much to hope for; her temperament was against the reasoned approach.
“My father is a monster. There’s only one way to deal with him,” said Gilles, adding a stream of expletives.
Carly held him. “We share your feelings, but don't do anything rash. Please.”
Gilles broke free and climbed into the 4x4.
“I’m calm inside. I know what I must do. Roman’s ruined the breeding operatio
n. I have to get Lina and the last of my horses out of there, and he won’t stand in my way.”
“Then we’ll all go.”
“No, too many. The confrontation can wait. I can deal with this, my way.”
He slammed the car door and drove off waving, skidding as he turned past the bungalow.
Carly tried to say, “Please drive carefully,” but all that remained was the dust.
*
“This is totally crazy. At most, four hours tops to get to Fenburgh and three to deal with Roman. He should have answered by now, Loup.”
“Maybe Roman made sure he wasn’t there at first, or....”
“Or Gilles was hurrying and crashed,” said Carly.
She tried to force away the vision of the 4x4 mangled around a tree and Gilles’s lifeless body resting inside of it.
“He’s too good a driver to crash. I think Roman created problems, like refusing to let Gilles back onto Fenburgh.”
She wondered if Roman had forced Gilles to cave into unreasonable demands. Had Gilles given away everything he still owned? Could Roman have physically harmed him?
“He must be there, Loup. Otherwise Lina would have phoned us. Have you tried her again?”
“Yes, and her mobile is off, so I sent a text. I'm sure they’ll ring when they can. Don't worry, please, Vix.”
Armand helped her measure out the horses’ feed, which took her mind off her fears. They had two more buckets to fill when her phone rang.
“Thank God honey, I was worried. You’re okay?”
Armand gestured that he would finish the feed so she could talk.
“Babe, I would’ve called, but it’s been really stressed here.” His voice was strained and tired. Flat.
“Are you okay, Gilles? What did you tell Roman?”
“We stood up to him, even though he got abusive and suggested I’d be next. Lina showed him.”
Carly heard the Latina whisper in the background.
“She has to get out. Roman is making her life hell. Says Pin’s problems were all because of her regime. First, the loss of form, and then him firing blanks.”
“No mention then, of his callous decision to fly the horse with a virus?”
“No, but I said I was keeping Pin, and the horse would prove himself—even if Papa and Vecheech want to get rid of him.”
“So, you’re coming back now, with Lina?” Carly was hopeful but feared more was being unsaid as Gilles went quiet.
Distant whispers broke the pause.
“Well, yes... but we need to make plans. There’s lots of valuable junk here...like lab equipment and files, as well as horses. I need to make arrangements with Vecheech—it’s theirs mostly.”
Her stomach flipped, but this was no hypo—although she could have screamed.
Armand came over and put a supportive arm around her shoulders as she asked Gilles, “So, you’ll be back late or tomorrow? What about Chatsworth?”
“You'll have to go with Armand. You'll cope with just two rides, babe. Lina wants a word.”
“Hola, amiga, we’ll try to be there on Sunday. Sorry about this, damn Roman.” Lina sounded stressed too. “But don’t worry, we can deal with the bastard. He’s all bark and hot air.”
Carly was reassured in part but stabs of jealousy thrust into her. She needed to be with Gilles. Sleeping alone in the old farmhouse was tough, and the noises kept her awake, even though logic said it was the building and the wind.
TWENTY-NINE
Ageless—she will always be twenty-six, even as I grow old. This photo might fade, but the memories will never dim. Why did she die? It made no sense. The conflict made no sense. It was only duty that took us there.
Armand let the golden face draw him back into their too-brief a time together.
I will always love her, for eternity.
He clutched the ring that bound them forever, wishing she was here, and they could celebrate her birthday today, together.
I must continue to honour Cygne’s sacred memory. For her, I must face France?
The old excuses were too easy and too weak. It was Armand’s duty to help his friends and to face whatever Saumur threw up from the past. Seeing Odette’s parents was overdue.
He dressed and went out into the dawn light, to the welcome chorus, which promised immersion in work to escape his thoughts. If anyone needed him, they would know where to find him.
*
Carly bent down and ran her hand over the stifle, hoping the injury was gone. She smiled, reassured that Huginn would be ready for the Open Novice at Borde Hill. It was her favourite venue since her days with the Pony Club, and her father's builder friend was co-organiser, which was an added reason to support the event.
However, first, there was France. Why did Saumur faze her more than Badminton? Was it the prestige of competing at the home of the Cadre Noir, France’s world-renowned cavalry school? Or was it the memory of how her mother had perceived her native country’s premier event?
Or is it the nightmare?
She had woken without Gilles noticing. Cross-legged on the bed, Carly had fought to dispel the sensation of falling into a water jump. The nightmare was always the same; she struggled to keep the horse and herself from drowning in a morass of mist and mud. Then she woke sweating and shaking, needing some glucose.
She forced the memory aside, knowing it was a delayed reaction to her Burnham fall. Instead, she crept outside and checked all the horses, noting which ones needed exercise before she left for France. It was unreasonable to leave everything for the yard groom, who Vecheech had hired to help. Task complete, she headed back to the farmhouse with Guinness.
Gilles ended his online call to his contact at Vecheech as she hugged him. “I'll call you back when I know more.”
He kissed her, playing with her hair.
“Horses and apricot. Love it. So, you worked out the schedule for the new girl, Vix?”
“All in my head. I'll type it up before we go. What do our bosses need to know now? Don't they know we’ve a lot to do and need to catch the Channel tunnel?”
“They want my advice on which Boissard Équestre horses they should buy from Roman.”
“Buy? Why? At least we know your Papa, however impossible he is, sorry love. We’ve lost too many already. Now you want to sell more?”
He put an arm around her. “Okay, I’ll be honest with you. Vix, I was going to tell you all. After what he did to Pin, I can’t trust Papa.”
“Nor can I, but this Harfang doesn’t sound any better. He’s using you and doing what Roman can’t—profit from our success.”
“I trust him enough now that he’s bought Hazelmead. He’s annoyed at Papa’s reckless actions too.” He held her close then continued, “If Vecheech buy Papa’s share of the horses that we still have here, plus Wanda’s new foal and the broodmare, then I’ll sell my share of Fenburgh. It’ll secure the eventing side of the business—for us. It makes sense, babe. Roman gets what Harfang knows he craves—a profitable racehorse enterprise.”
Carly swallowed. She had faith in Gilles’s judgement, yet this sounded too risky. He could lose everything to Vecheech.
“This isn’t right, Gilles. Did you discuss this with anyone? With Lina? Or with Loup? He’s suspicious of Vecheech, although I suppose he’s down at the moment.”
Gilles looked at the floor and stroked his forehead. “Well, Lina has been telling me which horses were needed to keep the stud going. You can check the list, of course.”
She wondered if that was all they had discussed, but horses were within the remit of Lina’s job, at least on the breeding side.
“As for Armand,” said Gilles, “I think he’s been away from France too long. He’s not been back in four years, but he worries too much about returning.”
“Maybe something happened in France, at Saumur. Or in Canada, like...” Carly stopped, worried whether she should ask. Could it be Odette? Gilles must have noticed the wedding ring Armand wore on his wolf pendant.
He gave her a long kiss and held her tight.
She wondered what he knew about Armand and Odette. She hated it when he shut her out. What was he hiding?
THIRTY
Wanda halted perfectly, and Carly saluted the judges. She tried to contain herself and not punch the air as they left the Saumur arena, knowing the mare had done a great test. Riders often said, “Just ’cos you thought it was great don’t mean the judges share that delusion.”
The faces of the crowd and their applause told her the marks on the scoreboard were better than she expected. The reaction was fantastic, and as she rode out, she could see Gilles and Lina celebrating, even though this was just the first phase of the competition; and other riders still had to ride their dressage tests.
She dismounted, and Gilles hugged her.
“That was brilliant, Vix. I knew you could be a dressage queen.”
As Lina took Wanda and praised the horse, Carly said, “As she says, it’s all down to Wanda—and, of course, your training.”
They walked the mare out of the practice area towards the stables with Gilles still letting the compliments flow when Carly spotted Armand.
He was talking to an elegantly dressed couple; a slim blonde lady and a tall silver haired man, whose bearing was reminiscent of the cavalry officers of the Cadre Noir. Although he was not wearing the distinctive black uniform, she wondered if he was one of them. Why was Armand in animated conversation with them?
“Hey, honey, who are the couple Loup’s talking to?”
Gilles studied them, scratching his chin.
“They look familiar... kind of looks like Wanda’s breeders. Maudit, it’s been a while since I met them. Armand never said he knew them.”
“Well, perhaps we should talk to them,” said Carly, keen to share with them after Wanda’s brilliance.
“After we’ve untacked her and settled her in the stable. Although I could do that with Lina if you like.”
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