by Ruby Loren
Miles shrugged at Hayley. “Well, on with the show, I suppose. I’d better have a word with Tara and find out what she was planning for this morning. Are you still okay to give your first talk this afternoon?”
“Sure, no problem,” Hayley said, her head swimming from the information overload. She still couldn't get over the fact that a man had died in the very tent she was standing in, although the blood stain was a constant reminder. How must the rest of his group be feeling right now? She shook her head. Everyone dealt with death differently. She would have to do her best to transfer her horse psychology skills to humans and see if she could delve any deeper towards finding the killer in their midst.
“I'd better go and see the horses the Marks party brought," she said and she and Miles excused themselves from the tent with Inspector Rouen still smiling cheerfully after them.
“So, what do you make of that?” Miles asked as they walked back towards the stables.
"I don’t know, not until I meet the rest of the group," she admitted.
Miles shook his head. “It's a bad business. Dominic Marks’ company is known for spotting the next generation of racing stars. He invests in colts and fillies, pays for the best training around, and then sells them on at a vast profit. He has a reputation for being a bit of an ego, but when you consider his track record, you could say it’s justified.”
"I wonder where the gun is,” Hayley mused and Miles shrugged.
“It’ll turn up sooner or later. No one left the camp before the police arrived. All of the witnesses attest to that, so it’s unlikely that it was disposed of far away. There's just a lot of undergrowth for them to pick through.” He smiled. “After the rain we’ve had, I hope they all brought their wellies.”
He stopped outside a stable and an enquiring black nose pushed its way forwards, before ears were flattened back and hooves thudded against the interior of the door.
“Whoa, easy now,” Hayley said to the young colt who neighed loudly and then spun away, bucking towards the opening of the door. “Charming!” She commented and Miles gave her a rueful smile.
“That’s Ferra’s Falcon. The result of a pairing between Senator George and Lily Of The Day. He’s got quite the future ahead of him… if anyone can get a saddle on him,” he added and Hayley shook her head at the skittish colt.
“He looks like he needs a good turn out to get rid of all that nervous energy,” she said and Miles nodded.
“Yes, you’re probably right, although he hasn’t played nice with the other horses so far. It’s almost as if he knows his own future and thinks himself a cut above the rest.” He reached out a hand only to be snapped at again. “Dominic Marks would choose to bring us a horse that thinks its too good for us…”
“I’m sure things will unravel given time,” Hayley said, knowing that time wasn’t something she had with this horse. They were only here for the weekend and she knew from experience that clients often expected miracles. She bit her lip and looked at the wild colt who had just lost his owner and wondered if he had any part to play in the mystery of who killed Dominic Marks and why?
Hayley shook her head and tried to figure out what was disturbing the colt and making him lash out. She couldn't see any triggers, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t something to find - whether in the horse’s past or his current situation. If she could find out what was bothering him, she could start making some progress.
“Let’s see if we can solve one mystery today,” she said to the skittish horse.
CHAPTER TWO
Family Matters
After spending the morning observing and evaluating the handful of horses that the Marks party had brought with them, Hayley walked back up into the woods to take her afternoon seminar. She’d just cleared the tree line when she heard shouts of anger.
“Yes, I’m in debt! It’s no big deal.”
“You concealed evidence in a murder investigation,” she heard Inspector Rouen say as she made her way through the trees and found herself looking at Tara Royals, who was stood opposite the Inspector with her fists balled up.
“The only thing I didn’t tell the truth about was the emergency mobile phone having no signal. I'd run out of credit because I couldn’t afford to top it up. It was the only phone available because we have a rule that our guests leave technology behind them, as it's too much of a distraction. I told the police that already. Then the van wouldn’t start, probably because I can't afford to maintain it. Dominic Marks was meant to be paying half of the fee for this retreat when he got here, but he was late and then said he couldn’t transfer it anyway because of some crap about the banks being shut.” She shook her head. “I couldn’t believe it! I wanted him to cut the nonsense, go back to the stables with a laptop and transfer it online but he said that he’d missed enough of the retreat he was paying for as it was and he wanted his money's worth.” She ground her teeth. “His money's worth of money that he never paid me!” She looked up, eyes more focused. “I work as a sole trader. I run the events and deal with the money and pay Miles Onyx in return for being able to use his facilities and the assistance of his staff. After Dominic refused to pay, I had to get on with things as usual,” she said. She lifted her grey eyes to meet Inspector Rouen’s hazel pair. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell the truth about the mobile phone. I just didn’t want our guests to know. When you’re running a luxury horse retreat, people don’t expect you to be on the verge of bankruptcy.”
Hayley suddenly realised she was eavesdropping and made the decision to step into view. She kept a light smile on her face, hoping that the speakers would assume she’d only just arrived.
Tara’s face immediately clouded when she saw her. “It’s time for my break. They're all waiting in the barn for you,” Tara said, brushing past Hayley without so much as a smile.
Inspector Rouen waited for her to have gone and then raised an eyebrow.
“Something tells me you heard all of that," he said and she shrugged.
“Woods aren’t very soundproof when you're having an argument at the top of your voice. How did you find out she’s in debt?” Hayley asked, finding it hard to believe that Miles would allow the person who was essentially the face of his luxury horse retreats fall into bankruptcy.
“We’re currently running checks on all of the suspects, Miss Royals included, and it came up. She invested all of her money in a betting syndicate company just a few months ago and then the group went bankrupt. She lost everything,” he explained.
“That's awful, Inspector. So, you think that she had a motive to want Dominic gone because he was refusing to pay her?” She asked and he pulled a face.
“Please, call me Shaun. I’m here in plain clothes, so just treat me like I’m one of the guests. Albeit a guest who knows absolutely nothing about those four legged animals. What are they called again?” He blew air through his nose at his own joke and Hayley’s mouth tilted up at his quirkiness. “To answer your question, I don’t know. The missing gun is likely to be the one that Miss Royals claims was stolen from her but it’s equally possible that she took it herself. However, if she killed Dominic Marks, she’d never get her money. But then again…” He threw Hayley a sideways look. “I probably shouldn’t be telling you this, but Tara has a bit of a history of anger issues. She was cautioned for having a bar brawl with another woman a year or so ago and was referred to anger management classes and you heard how she reacted to my questions. She has a short fuse. Perhaps Dominic’s refusal to pay what he owed made her snap. She grabbed the gun and there you have it.”
They walked through the woods towards the barn in thoughtful silence and it wasn’t long before the members of the Mark’s party came into view. Hayley went through a quick round of introductions and Shaun Rouen took a seat at the back as she launched into her introduction to horse psychology.
The seminar was briefly interrupted when a shout went up that the rifle had finally been recovered, halfway down a hill at the edge of the woods. Hayley could tell
that she didn’t have her guests’ full attention as everyone shifted nervously. The hours seemed to drag by as they all subconsciously waited for more news.
Eventually, Hayley couldn’t take it anymore and excused the group, suggesting that they jumped in the patched-up minivan and went to a local watering hole. This idea received the most enthusiastic response she’d had all afternoon.
***
Hayley sipped a lime and soda next to Inspector Rouen as they watched the rest of the group raising their glasses and drinking to Dominic’s memory. Despite the alcohol flowing, Hayley didn’t hear anyone talking about their happy memories of the deceased. Instead, there was a sombre mood as questions about the future of the company sprung forwards. Much drunken debate later, no one seemed any closer to knowing just what was going to happen to their jobs now that Dominic was gone.
“But surely you must inherit it all,” Jenny said to her fiancé who shook his head.
“I don’t know why you’d assume that. You knew Dominic just as well as…” He choked up for a moment, his eyes fixed on the table. “Knowing Dominic, he’s probably asked to be buried with his millions.” He laughed bitterly but it turned into a sob. "He was my brother! My brother! Damn it," he said, raising his voice as he stood up and threw his glass of wine to the floor, causing it to shatter and spray red liquid everywhere. Hayley was queasily reminded of the blood on the bed sheets she’d seen earlier that day.
“Calm down now, I think you've had too much to drink,” Inspector Rouen said, stepping in front of James whose eyes cleared for a moment.
“I’m sorry, I just got… carried away. Too much wine, you’re probably right,” he said, sitting down in his seat again. Jenny reached out towards his arm but he moved away, seeking solace alone.
Hayley looked across at Shaun when he sat back down and he shot her a self-conscious grin.
“Glad I didn’t have to get physical, I’m a bit of a damp squib when it comes to a fight. All fingers and thumbs, which is surprisingly not an official martial art.”
“They don’t give training for that when you sign up with the police?” Hayley asked, finding herself enjoying the Inspector's company.
“Well, crowd control and the like, yes… but not fighting. You see, the police are generally meant to prevent fights, not all pile in," he explained and Hayley smirked. Smart ass.
“When will you know more about the investigation?” She asked and he shrugged and sighed.
“I'm the dogsbody on this case so I won’t know anything until you do. I’m here strictly for appearances’ sake. Oh and to try and stop anyone else getting murdered, but so far, so good, eh?”
“So far, so good,” Hayley echoed.
They both sipped their drinks thoughtfully as the group returned to more subdued conversation. Hayley found herself examining the Inspector’s profile, his straight nose and the light gold stubble that lined his cheeks. She especially liked his hazel eyes, which seemed to see more than he was letting on.
“So, how does one learn to be a horse psychologist?” He said, surprising her with the personal question.
“Well, it was sort of a trial and error thing. I do actually have a degree, but in normal psychology," she said, blushing a little as she always did when she talked about her education. Unsurprisingly, there were no degrees in horse psychology and it was a brand she herself had developed, finding it described her better than the ambiguous label of ‘horse whisperer’. “It's all based on understanding. You have to get close to the horse you’re working with and figure out what’s guiding it. If something’s wrong, you need to uncover the source, which might at first appear to be entirely unrelated.”
Shaun raised a surprised eyebrow. “So you’re saying it’s rather like being a detective?”
Hayley nodded, thinking back to her past cases, which could definitely be classed as mysteries. “Yes, although the main thing to take from it, and what I hope to have taught our guests by the end of the weekend, is that the most important thing of all is to make sure you are always working with the horse - never against them." She smiled ruefully. “It's also a good point to make to those who expect miracles to occur in a few short days. People expect us to work magic with their horses and while a lot of progress happens, you can only move as quickly as a particular horse wants to. Forcing anything is a huge mistake,” she said, thinking of Ferra’s Falcon. One long weekend was definitely not going to be enough time for him.
“Uh oh,” Shaun said, pulling her free from her thoughts as James Marks toppled backwards off his bar stool.
“I suppose we should get them back to camp,” Hayley observed, unsurprised that the drinking had got so out of hand. Death still hung over them like a shadow and the knowledge that the killer was still out there was enough to drive anyone to drink - and no one so much as a murderer trying to deal with their own guilt.
***
Hayley shook her head and motioned for the stable hand to walk Ferra’s Falcon away from the group. That morning, she'd been schooling the young horses together, trying to get a feel for each of their personalities, but Falcon was a constant disruption to the group.
“You carry on here, Red, I’ll take Falcon,” She said, walking over to the stable hand and taking the leading rein. The horse tossed his head and tried to jump away and she followed his movements, knowing that resisting would only agitate him further.
“Come on, Falcon, why don’t you show me what’s wrong?” She said, waiting for him to calm enough and then walking him out of the school and down towards a circular track, designed for gait testing. She released the leading rein and let him go in, deciding to sit back and watch what he did. As soon as he realised he was free, his ears pricked up and he let off a couple of experimental bucks. Hayley watched as his jet black legs kicked the air before he got his head down and galloped off. About time he let off some steam, she thought with a smile as he raced around the circle.
After another lap, she was frowning again. In her experience, racehorses loved to run, but Falcon wasn’t slowing down. He was still galloping at full tilt, a lather starting to build on his dark coat. It was as if he had a rider on his back, cracking a whip and digging his heels in, so the horse wouldn’t slow or stop. Only, Falcon had no rider, and it looked like he wasn’t far off running himself into the ground.
She had to do something, or the young colt’s life could be in danger!
Hayley made a decision and vaulted over the side of the track, landing on the turf. She heard the thunder of hooves as Falcon made another turn and she stepped deliberately in front of him, half praying, half hoping, that he wouldn’t just mow her down. You could usually bet on horses not trampling you if they were given enough time to react, but so far, Falcon’s behaviour had been anything but typical.
Her heart was in her mouth as the young horse’s eyes flashed white. He was nearly on top of her! The horse gave a frightened neigh and skidded as he tried to stop, leaping to the side at the last moment and peeling off in a frenzy of bucks. Hayley followed him as calmly as she could, determined not to betray the mixed feelings of terror and adrenaline she was experiencing.
“Easy, easy…” she said, over and over again until she was close enough to hook the leading rein back on and regain some semblance of control.
She exhaled and rested a hand on the horse’s neck, only to be snapped at.
“I think we should get you back to the stables,” she said, her frown now permanent. Every sense she had was telling her that something was wrong with this horse, she just couldn’t figure out what it was.
“Hayley, something’s happening!” Red called as she walked back towards the stables. “It's the police, they’re back and heading up to the woods.”
She quickly stabled Falcon, making a mental note to investigate whatever was the matter with him later. Ferra’s Falcon should be one of the Marks’ company’s brightest young stars, but instead he was an unbroken in nightmare, hell bent on attacking anyone who tried to approach him.
***
Hayley made it up to the woods just as CI Jenkins had managed to gather all of the witnesses together
“We found two sets of fingerprints on the gun. One set belongs to Tara Royals and the other belongs to Lauren Aria.”
All eyes turned to the raven-haired PR manager, who paled under the scrutiny.
“I think it’s time you told us who you really are,” the DI continued and everyone turned back to Lauren Aria whose face now showed two spots of pink on her cheeks. She looked down at the leaf littered floor, her jaw muscles working as she thought over her words.
“I’m Dominic Marks’ daughter,” she finally admitted.
CHAPTER THREE
Confessions Of A Killer
“When we did your background check, we discovered that Dominic had made payments to your mother, quite regularly, for what would have been the first eighteen years of your life. You’ve also done time for petty theft, which must make you an unusual choice for a PR manager. Especially as it’s a job which you have no prior experience doing.” Chief Inspector Jenkins tilted his head enquiringly at Lauren but she just nodded numbly.
“I knew I wasn’t going to get away with it. It was all a horrible mistake,” she said, tears forming in her eyes. “I hit rockbottom when I was in prison. I knew I had to do something - anything - to turn my life around. The only thing I could think to do was to find my father. I knew my mother knew who he was, as she’d always told me that the regular payments were the least he could do. I thought… I thought if I found him and confronted him it might help me understand who I am.” A bitter laugh escaped her lips. "Imagine when I found out that my father was none other than the owner of Marks Racing Co. Those regular payments now seem like a pittance.” She shook her head. “It wasn’t about the money, not really. I still wanted to find him and get him to accept me. I thought if he did that, I could finally accept myself and move on… be who I wanted to be.”