by Ruby Loren
“Better luck next time, James,” he said to his frowning brother. Jenny, James’ fiancé, walked over from Dominic’s group and patted him on the shoulder but he shrugged her off, shooting a glare at his older brother and boss.
“Okay, great! So well done to the red team. Now we’re going to do one more team bonding exercise before you get your evening of freedom,” Tara Royals, the event organiser, said. The smile that was perpetually on her face dipped a little as she looked up at the sky, visible above the clearing in the woods where they were. “We’ll make it a quick one so we can get to the tents before the rain starts. It looks like we’re in for a stormy one tonight.”
“So much for the luxury equestrian bonding retreat. I can’t believe you’re sleeping in a tent,” James said to Dominic, a smirk on his face. “Glamping or not, it’s still a tent.” Dominic pretended not to hear but a muscle twitched in his jaw as Tara pulled out a bright red, first place rosette.
“This is the compliment rosette. When you have the rosette, you pick a person to say something about, but it must be a compliment! Okay, James, why don’t you go first?” She threw the rosette his way and he caught it, his tanned face lining with thought for a moment.
“Right… where to start!” He grinned all round before lasering in. “Okay, Lou… it’s great the way you keep our business together. Without you organising us all, everything would grind to a halt. Thanks a lot for keeping us all sane. Or is that… insane?” He couldn't resist throwing another smirk in Dominic’s direction, but his brother was distracted, looking away at the distant trees.
The secretary smiled her thanks, her mouse-brown head bobbing as she took the rosette that James passed her and hugged it to her voluminous chest.
“Lauren, I just want to say well done for fitting in here so quickly. We’re not an easy bunch, but you’ve done so well and we’re all very glad to have you,” the secretary said. A raven-haired woman, who’d been quiet all day, looked up with the ghost of a smile on her face. Around the group everyone smiled and nodded encouragingly as she took the rosette and ran her fingers over the ribbons.
“Thank you for making me feel welcome,” she began and then looked around the group for inspiration. “Dominic, thanks for being a great boss. There can’t be many companies where the boss is willing to prance around a show jumping ring in front of his staff.” Around her, the group broke out into over-enthusiastic laughter as Dominic’s lips twisted in amusement and he took the proffered rosette.
“Well, obviously I think you’re all fantastic, otherwise I wouldn’t be paying you as much as I do.”
“You could always pay us more,” James sniped and there were sounds of amusement all round the circle as Dominic flicked him a rude gesture. “But I especially want to compliment my bed… for being there for me whenever I need it most. Like right now. I’m shattered. The late flight and the ‘show jumping’ really took it out of me.” The circle groaned as one. Dominic handed the rosette back to Tara. “I’ll see you all in the morning,” he said, walking away from the group towards the gaggle of white canvas, glamping tents.
The first few drops of rain started to fall as he walked away through the darkness and Tara hurried the others away to an open barn where a fire had been laid, ready for lighting. Packs of marshmallows and skewers were set up in a line, along with chilled champagne for that true luxury camping experience. This was pony club summer camp on steroids.
James glanced over to see Dominic raise a hand towards the group in a final farewell before ducking into his tent.
It was the last time he saw Dominic alive.
***
A scream cut through the insistent drumming of the rain and thunder. Tent flaps were thrown open as the guests were roused from their slumber and made their way into the downpour to investigate.
“Help me, I slipped!”
Tara Royals was first on the scene, bending down to the mud-caked, Lou Marsden, who was lying on the floor of the clearing, clutching her ankle. “I just went out to the loo but it was so muddy. I lost my footing on the way back to the tent. I… I think it’s just twisted,” the secretary said, her flabby arms stretching, as she tried to massage some life back into the ankle. “I’m sorry. This is so silly,” she said, over and over again.
“I should probably go and call this in. Let's see how you walk, just in case it’s broken. You might need an ambulance,” Tara said, hefting the unfortunate woman to her feet.
“I’ll get Dominic, as the boss of the company, he should be out here getting drenched and losing sleep along with the rest of us. Team bonding, am I right?” James grinned at his fiancé, Jenny Rue, whose short, platinum blonde bob was plastered to her head by the rain.
“I’ll go. He probably didn’t hear because he always sleeps with that whale music playing through his headphones,” she said, disappearing between the trees. The others turned back to Tara and Lou - who was still babbling about her idiocy.
A second scream pierced the air and they all ran in the direction Jenny had gone, leaving Lou and Tara in the mud.
“Oh God,” James said when he joined his fiancé in his brother’s tent. Lauren stuck her head through the opening but James shook his head and motioned for her to back out again. He didn't want the young PR manager to see what had happened. He looked down at his brother, his mind unwilling to process the scene in front of him.
He was lying on the bed. He looked peaceful, as though he’d just fallen asleep, but the red spread of blood from the gunshot wound in his chest made it obvious it wasn’t a slumber he’d be waking up from anytime soon. Dominic Marks was well and truly dead.
“We’ve got to get help! Someone needs to call the police,” Jenny said, pulling on his arm and snapping him out of his transfixed state.
Tara Royals burst into the tent, her eyes scanning the room. She swore under her breath a couple of times, her hand going up to her blonde, high ponytail.
“I'll have to walk back to the stables, I’ve just checked the emergency mobile I carry and there’s no signal out here tonight. It must be because of the storm. I’ll have to drive down,” she said, vanishing from the tent again.
James cast one final look at his brother’s body before following Jenny out of the tent, back into the storm. Even the torrential early autumn storm was preferable to remaining in that muggy tent where the smell of his brother’s death lingered in the air.
CHAPTER ONE
Ferra’s Falcon
Hayley smiled as the countryside zipped past and the towns gave way to fields. The roads were still damp from the rain of the previous night, but the warmth of the early September day was already lifting the moisture into the air, casting a haze everywhere she looked. Hayley glanced at herself in the rear view mirror, her blue eyes serious and her hair doing what it was told for once, despite the humidity. She gave herself another encouraging smile as she drove past the first sign for the Onyx and Argent Stables.
“Home at last,” she said to herself as she pulled into the neatly gravelled car park and paused a moment, taking in the large collection of stables, clad in dark stained wood and the huddle of red brick buildings just beyond. A beautiful, champagne coloured mare was being led from the stables towards the extensive pastureland beyond and Hayley wondered just who it belonged to. She could tell right away that it was the sort of horse that was worth a fortune, and it didn’t surprise her a jot. Everyone at the Onyx and Argent Stables had horses that were worth more money than Hayley expected to see in a lifetime.
Hayley sighed to herself as she self-consciously brushed a hand over her dark jodhpurs to get rid of any minute specks of dirt that might give away the fact she’d (God forbid) actually mucked out a stable in her life. Despite her last name revealing her to be a partner of the prestigious stables, she’d never thought she fitted in with these grand surroundings. She forever felt like a some sort of fraud.
Miles always said that it was what had made him offer her the partnership in the first place - she was
different. When Hayley had started putting herself out there as a horse psychologist, Miles had been one of her first customers. She’d first visited the stables when a desperate private client had contacted her to deal with what was thought to be a problem horse. Miles had remembered her success, and had then brought her in to the then-named Tyrrel Stables to solve the mystery of why all the young colts and fillies they’d accepted that year were unwilling to let anyone ride them. It had transpired that a local group of youths were breaking into the pasture fields, catching the young horses and holding their own unofficial and highly dangerous rodeos. The poor colts and fillies had developed a serious mistrust of humans that Hayley had needed to rectify. When she’d finished, Miles had shocked her by asking if she wanted to be a named partner in the stables.
His father had become so infirm that he was in a nursing home and Miles was just about to take over the day-to-day running of the stables. He had some very big plans for the place and he’d told Hayley that she was exactly the business partner he was looking for - someone who thought about horses differently. After his father's death, Miles had become the sole owner of the stables and had even changed the name. Hayley owned shares in the company, but none of the property. She knew on paper she was just a token, but it had been wonderful to finally have a place where she could work to make a difference.
For the first few months, everything had been brilliant. She’d worked with all sorts of high-flying clients, correcting the bad habits of both horse and rider and getting to the bottom of many horse related mysteries. But then that unscratchable itch of needing to make a difference had returned and she'd asked Miles if he minded if she accepted a job away from the stables. He’d been very understanding and ever since, she’d worked freelance, only returning to the stables when she was needed. But she always kept the Onyx and Argent stables in her mind and her heart and regular calls with Miles meant she knew that the ideas bouncing around his head were working out well. The stables was in profit and the business was branching out into areas so-far unexplored.
That was one of the reasons Miles had been so pleased when she'd told him she was coming back. He’d just launched his own ‘luxury horse retreats’. The concept was similar to a pony club summer camp, except it was aimed at wealthy corporate members of the horse community. Racehorse owners and their teams would all come together for bonding and education. The idea was that during the course of a long weekend, both the workforce and their horses would bond and build together. Hayley was back to give a day's seminar on horse psychology to the current glamping professionals.
A light frown wrinkled her forehead as she walked through the rows of stables and noticed how deserted the place was. With the exception of the champagne coloured horse, there was no movement beyond the usual quiet sounds of horses eating and moving around. Where is everyone? She thought, used to seeing the permanently busy stable staff who always contrived to make it look as though they were rushed off their feet.
Today, the Onyx and Argent Stables were like a ghost town.
She walked around a corner and nearly collided with a floppy-haired man. He pushed his dark mop free from his eyes and his face lit up.
“Hayley! I’m sorry, I’d completely forgotten that you were coming here today. Everything's been hectic after last night’s unfortunate incident. The police are still interviewing the stable staff despite it being pretty obvious that no one else was out in the woods last night…” He sighed and shook his head.
“What happened?” Hayley asked, baffled by Miles’ words. He had a tendency to forget that only he could see the ideas running through his head.
“The Marks party you were meant to be giving the seminar to today. Last night, during the storm, someone killed Dominic Marks," he explained. “Come with me, I’ll fill you in. I'd better introduce you to the police as well, then we can see what they want to do about the whole situation. I’m not sure if we’re carrying on with the seminar or not.” He frowned. “I hope you don't think me callous, it’s just my observation that none of the guests seem too upset, but then perhaps it’s the shock.”
Hayley nodded vaguely as Miles briefed her on the background of the Marks Racing Co, the horses they’d brought with them, and how Jenny Rue, the fiancé of Dominic’s brother James, had discovered the body after the company secretary had slipped in the mud outside and injured herself.
The warm sunshine of the day did nothing to instil the terrible knowledge of murder in her as they approached the clump of woods. She tried to rearrange her features to at least look less cheery.
“What do you think?” Miles couldn’t resist asking as they crossed the clearing laid out with trotting poles and some very low jumps.
“Are their horses not any good at show jumping?” Hayley asked, genuinely curious. Miles threw his head back, roaring with laughter.
“It’s an obstacle course. It’s a part of our first day ‘group bonding’ exercises. Although, from what I heard, they only got to do one round of the course because Dominic’s flight in from America arrived late. It’s too bad. The ‘suggestions for improvement’ part is one of the main takeaways of the exercise.” He strode beyond the clearing towards a group of tents and Hayley started to see people wearing white suits and black police uniforms. They walked through the group towards a white canvas tent that had its flaps pinned open.
“Mr Onyx, come in. The body’s been taken by the coroner and we’re just finishing up in here,” a tired voice said. Hayley and Miles walked into the tent and accepted the offered handshake. “I’m CI Jenkins and this is Inspector Rouen.” The grey haired man gestured to his younger colleague, a man with buttery blonde hair, hazel eyes, and the kind of smile that was infectious.
“Hello, very nice to meet you. Unfortunate situation though, of course,” the young inspector said after Hayley had filled them both in on exactly who she was. “I don’t suppose sharing their final memories of Dominic Marks in a police interview is the kind of team bonding that your clients had in mind when they booked your weekend seminar,” the young inspector continued while the older one threw him a disapproving look from beneath some ludicrously bushy eyebrows.
“Do you have any idea who might have wanted to kill Dominic?” Miles asked while Hayley’s eyes wandered around the tent.
It was a far cry from the tents she’d been in before. For one, it actually had furniture. There was a real bed, although the dark bloodstain on the sheets made it look less inviting than it might have. An oak desk displayed a bottle of dark rum and two glass tumblers, a leather bridle, and a mobile phone charger plugged into a transportable power pack. Some white headphones were also visible, attached to an MP3 player. She watched as a police officer wearing latex gloves slid open the desk drawer and pulled out a brown jiffy bag and a pair of gloves - much like the ones he himself was wearing. A slip of paper that had been concealed by the jiffy bag fell to the floor and Hayley just had time to see a table with algebraic calculations like ‘Aa+Ab = Aa’ scrawled on it beneath an official looking letterhead.
“Well, we think the gun belonged to Tara Royals, your events co-ordinator. She’s reported that the double barrel shotgun she kept in the boot of the minivan she used to drive the witnesses and their cases up to the woods has disappeared. We're still looking for it," CI Jenkins said.
“We've had intruders before, that’s why Tara had the gun. It was meant to scare off anyone who tried to bother the camp,” Miles explained and Hayley nodded, remembering the youths who had nearly ruined their young hopefuls. “It’s also a precaution against thieves. We have more security down at the yard, but as a part of our retreats, we also bring up the clients’ horses for a day or so, so they can work more closely with them. We’d be foolish if we didn’t have a means of deterring any would-be horse thieves.”
Hayley watched curiously as the officer finished bagging the items from the desk and then bent down to the small, generator powered fridge. He opened the door and revealed a row of bottles filled with orange
coloured liquid, marked up for the next few days.
“Looks like Dominic Marks was on the cayenne pepper and lemon. You know, The Master Cleanse,” Miles said and Hayley tried not to raise an eyebrow. Of course he’d know that. “So, what happens now?” He asked.
“We’ve interviewed all of our witnesses but until we find the gun, it’s hard to ascertain much more. The best course of action we can advise is to continue with the retreat as you would have done. It’s important that everyone stays together and is monitored while we continue to conduct our investigations." CI Jenkins took a deep breath. “While there is a chance that a stranger broke into the minivan, took the gun, and shot Dominic Marks in a robbery gone wrong, it's far more likely that the killer was someone he knew. He was lying on the bed when he was shot and there were no signs of struggle. I think whoever walked into his tent… he must have recognised them. Besides, the only thing that seems to be missing is a mobile phone that Dominic Marks wasn’t supposed to have. We’ve checked and everything else of value is still in the lockup provided for the guests.”
“You want us to carry on with the retreat, knowing that it’s likely that the murderer is one of the guests?” Hayley said, her voice giving away her scepticism.
Another tired look crossed the DI’s face. “All I’m asking is that you assist our investigation by keeping our suspects occupied. They’ve all booked to stay for the weekend and I hope by then we’ll have found our murder weapon and be able to shed some more light on the death of Dominic Marks. Inspector Rouen will remain here to monitor all activities and continue the investigation. Let him know if you notice anything unusual or have any concerns at all.”