by Sara Blaedel
The old man apparently hadn’t heard her coming. He was trying to slip his wadded-up shirt under Amber’s head. Ilka had never been afraid of horses, but she stopped in her tracks when a dark-brown thoroughbred reared up in front of her.
Two cars flew down the driveway to the house, which frightened the horses even more; they ran by the stables and out into the pasture behind. The old man staggered to his feet when four armed men jumped out of the cars. The front door opened, and a blond, well-dressed young man appeared with a jacket and white shirt on a hanger slung over his arm. He walked past the armed men with hardly a glance, and moments later he began helping the old man with his clothes. Ilka was about to return to the car when she recognized one of the men: Jeff, her Tinder date. They formed a ring around Raymond Fletcher as he finished dressing.
“They’ve been keeping an eye on the ranch,” Fletcher said. His firm voice belied his age, and he seemed transformed. It wasn’t just that his sorry undershirt was hidden now; he looked taller and no longer helpless, with an authority he wore like a jacket. One of the men handed him a gun, and he checked it before casually sticking it in his pocket. “They must have known you just left.”
“How many horses did they make off with?” the man closest to Ilka asked. He was blocking her from Jeff’s sight.
Fletcher’s security guards, she thought. Had she said anything about her father on the boat, something that should have made Jeff acknowledge that he knew her father’s family? Or at least that he worked for the family? She couldn’t remember. Had they even talked about anything?
“Five or six. And we have to find them, now.” Fletcher pointed at the man standing in front of Ilka. “Get inside and send a message to everyone, to start looking for the horses.”
Two men trotted into the house, while the other two quickly checked the stables.
Fletcher barked orders into his phone as if he were commanding troops. Some were ordered out to the ranch, others to the trotter stable, others to various roads to keep an eye out for the horses. He mentioned an address that Ilka didn’t recognize. The whole front lawn was suddenly a command center, and no one seemed to worry about Amber, who still lay on the ground over by the wall.
Ilka finally caught Jeff’s eye when she jogged over to her half sister. She was about to say something, but he turned away quickly, obviously ignoring her. She reached into her bag for her phone, and while orders flew through the air around her, she called 911 and asked for an ambulance. She still had the slip of paper with Fletcher’s address Artie had given her. She also gave them Amber’s name and explained there had been an accident.
“She’s unconscious,” she said, when asked about the injury.
“Who the hell are you?” someone shouted from above her head.
She looked up at Fletcher but waved him off as she repeated the address clearly.
The old man was still standing over her when she hung up. She laid a hand on Amber’s shoulder, though she didn’t know if the girl was aware that someone was with her. “I’m Paul Jensen’s daughter from Denmark. She needs to go to the hospital.”
He studied her for a moment, then he slowly nodded and returned to his men.
Amber didn’t react when Ilka spoke her name. She shut the surrounding voices out and concentrated on speaking calmly to her half sister. Her head was bleeding, and she lay in an alarmingly twisted position. Out of the corner of her eye, Ilka noticed Mary Ann and Leslie by the front door, the mother sitting erect in her wheelchair, the daughter standing behind her in a beige cardigan with her soft, wavy hair, both looking as if yesterday’s events had never happened. They stared down at Ilka and Amber.
The ambulance’s siren cut through the air and drowned out the men’s loud voices. Ilka stood up when Fletcher approached her again. He sounded much less harsh now as he asked her to follow Amber to the hospital. “I can’t leave here until we find the horses. Stay with her until I come.”
“But I hardly know her,” she said. “Don’t you think she’d rather see one of you when she wakes up?”
She glanced over at Mary Ann and Leslie.
“You have the same father, you’ll find something to talk about.” He stepped aside to make room for the two ambulance medics. He shouted a few more orders to his men before turning back to Ilka. “Follow the ambulance, make sure she has everything she needs. When you get to the hospital, you’ll be responsible for getting her admitted and giving them her insurance information.”
The young man—a butler?—who had brought him his clothes now came outside carrying a folder.
“Don’t leave her until I get there,” Fletcher repeated. He handed her an envelope from the folder and told her it contained all the information the hospital would need.
“I’m not a doctor, you know,” she mumbled, irritated over being handed all the responsibility. Why not her sister, or one of the men?
But Fletcher was already on his way to the stable. Just before the ambulance arrived, she’d noticed a few stableboys in flannel shirts head out after the loose horses, and now they were returning with four of them.
“What happened to her?” Ilka shouted. He turned around, his face showing no emotion.
“She was trampled.”
Again, he turned to his men and herded them over to a stable behind the other buildings. Mary Ann and Leslie were back inside the house, and suddenly everything was quiet.
The ambulance drove off, and at the end of the driveway its siren began blaring. Ilka was trembling all over, her hands clenched so tightly that her nails sliced into her palms. She tried to shrug off her shock like Fletcher had, but it didn’t work. All she could do was run to her car and try to keep up with the ambulance, because no one had told her where the hospital was.
The last time Amber had spoken to Ilka, she’d asked her half sister to stay away. No doubt she’ll be thrilled to see who’s here when she wakes up, Ilka thought as she gazed down at her in the bed.
She’d waited four hours while Amber’s chest and hip were examined, followed by a scan of her head and neck. Amber had suffered a serious concussion, her hip was dislocated, and ribs on both sides were bruised, but nothing was broken. Several times hospital personnel told Ilka it was a miracle she was alive. Because of the concussion she would have to lie perfectly still in darkness. She’d been given a neck brace, and a strange contraption had been attached to her hip. It looked like a metal frame with a big vise attached; a nurse explained it was for maneuvering the hipbone back into its socket.
“As long as she’s so weak, we don’t want to risk any movement that could cause another dislocation.”
Ilka couldn’t imagine Amber doing more than barely moving in her condition. She wasn’t even sure her half sister was conscious, though the nurse claimed they’d spoken to her. She’d been given an IV morphine drip, which was helping her body relax so it could heal, the nurse explained.
Ilka held her hand and sat with eyes closed, trying to imagine what it would have been like to grow up with her. They could have played together, argued. This was one of the things for which she would never forgive her father. She’d always wanted a brother or sister. Not that she was wild about the sisters it turned out she did have, but at least she’d have experienced being closer to someone than just friends.
Earlier a young male nurse in a light-blue uniform had checked on Amber. He’d offered Ilka a cup of coffee and sandwich, but at the time she hadn’t felt like eating or drinking. Now, though, she was getting hungry. And she had a headache throbbing in her left temple. It was already past eight, and she had no idea when Fletcher would show up. How long did he expect her to stay?
“How many horses did they get?”
Her half sister’s sudden whisper startled Ilka, and she jerked and mashed Amber’s hand against the bed rail. “Sorry.”
“Did they get any from the south stable?”
Maybe it was the medicine, Ilka thought. Or else Amber had more important things on her mind than reacting to a n
ear-stranger sitting there, holding her hand.
“I don’t know what the south stable is. But they’ve rounded up several of the horses.”
Amber lay flat on the bed, looking up at her through two narrow slits. “Which ones?”
“I don’t know. I saw four, three dark and one light.”
Ilka laid a hand on Amber’s shoulder when she tried to sit up. “You need to stay down, you’ve been seriously injured. Your grandfather is coming as soon as they find the stolen horses. He knows more than I do about what happened.”
Her half sister’s shoulder stiffened against her hand. “How many did they get?” she asked again.
Ilka spoke quietly to calm her down. “Like I said, I don’t know. They drove off with them before I got there.”
“Did one of the ones they brought back have a white star on his forehead, and a white sock on his right leg?”
Amber’s eyes were closed again, and suddenly it felt awkward holding her hand; carefully she laid it on the blanket as she tried to remember. “I didn’t notice. There was so much going on, it happened so fast.”
Several moments later she sensed her half sister looking up at her.
“When I told you to stay away and leave us alone, it was for your own sake.” Amber closed her eyes again. “I was trying to keep you out of all this. Trying to protect you.”
She paused again. Finally Ilka asked her why someone would steal the horses. “Did it have to do with what happened the other day to your mother and Leslie?”
Amber didn’t answer. Ilka thought about going out and calling Fletcher to tell him his granddaughter was conscious now. And to see if he was on his way. But it was actually nice sitting there alone with her. Despite the long silences, she enjoyed the sense of peace they shared.
Amber was looking at her again. “Do you know who Maggie is?” Ilka asked. She told her about the letter delivered to the funeral home.
“No.” Now she turned her head to look directly at Ilka. “What happened today has nothing to do with you. They’re after my grandfather, not you. We’re the ones who have to worry.”
“It has nothing to do with our father, then?”
“No, not really.”
Ilka could sense her thinking about how much to tell. Probably wondering whether the story affected Ilka; whether it was something she should let her in on.
“But he was involved? Our father, I mean. And who are they?”
Amber closed her eyes. “You don’t know them. It’s about Grandpa’s stable. It’s him they’re after. His territory.”
“I was there when your mother’s house was emptied, I was parked out on the street. And this afternoon I saw them leave with the horses. It’s hard to feel I’m not involved.” She paused a second before leaning farther over the bed. “Maybe you don’t realize how lucky you are. You could’ve been killed. And all that shooting at your mother’s house. Whether we like it or not, we’re family, and whatever happens to you, in a way it happens to me too.”
“It’ll be over with soon.”
Lying in the hospital bed with her dark hair gathered in a hairband, she didn’t look as gawky as the first time Ilka had met her. Her features were pleasant and a bit girlish, even though her cheeks were round and she had a hint of a double chin. Ilka’s heart went out to her as she listened.
“Someone’s trying to blackmail Grandpa. But he won’t play along, and that can cause a lot of commotion.”
“Commotion!” That wasn’t exactly how Ilka would have described all she’d seen. Amber sounded aloof and unconcerned. Ilka hoped Fletcher was on his way. She’d almost reached out for her half sister’s hand a moment before, but now she drew back, amazed that despite being trampled half to death, Amber made it sound as if blackmail and mafia methods were everyday stuff.
She studied her half sister. She had enough problems of her own, and if her father’s own father-in-law truly was being fleeced, it probably wasn’t a good time to ask him for a loan.
“Grandpa ran the trotter stable together with Gerald Davidson, but he died last spring. His grandson came back from New York to take things over. And he claims Grandpa owes him money, that he’s trying to cheat him, but it’s not true. Scott Davidson is just greedy.”
“So he’s the one who took the horses?”
Amber spoke quietly. “Not personally, but I think his men did. We went to school together. I’ve known Scott most of his life, even though he was a grade under me. He’s always had a temper.”
“Was he the one who emptied the house out too?”
Amber laughed almost inaudibly, a puff of air through her teeth. “They showed up and harassed Mom to send a message to Grandpa, that they were coming for him.”
She kicked the blanket down a bit. Ilka offered to open the window; she didn’t think the room was hot, but beads of sweat covered her half sister’s forehead. Amber shook her head, said she was okay. She turned her head again to look directly at Ilka.
“They ran the stable for the last fifteen years, until the track went bankrupt months before New Year’s. Just before Gerald Davidson died. I know, because I’ve worked in Grandpa’s stable all my adult life. I’m responsible for the trotting horses, I’m a vet and a trainer too. I moved out to the farm when I finished vet school.”
“He must think he has a right to some of what you have, from what he’s doing.”
Ilka didn’t really care what their fight was about, as long as it didn’t make life more difficult for her. But it still felt nice being with her half sister.
“Scott Davidson claims we cheated him out of a lot of money. He started making all these accusations while they were settling his grandfather’s estate. But we don’t owe him a penny, and Grandpa doesn’t let people push him around. So now it looks like Scott’s going to fight dirty.”
She stared off into space and chewed on her fingernail a moment. “I’m not sure Scott knows what he’s getting himself into,” she murmured.
She sounded a bit scared herself at the thought. Then she asked Ilka how things were going with the funeral home.
Ilka studied her hands and chose her words carefully. “It’s not going well, not at all. Our father ran up an enormous debt, and I don’t have enough money left to do any more funerals.”
She described her meeting with the American Funeral Group, including their ridiculously low offer, then turned away from Amber. “I don’t understand why I got dragged into this. He didn’t write or call me once after he left Denmark. Not one single time. And yet I’m the one who’s left with the entire debt, while your family has so much money that it’s causing you different problems—”
Ilka cut herself off, but it did feel good to get this off her chest. Even though this wasn’t the best time to do it.
Her half sister’s voice was close to a whisper now. “The funeral home was almost holy to Dad. Leslie and I, we’ve never been in the room where you’re staying. At least until that evening I waited for you up there. You probably don’t have any idea how jealous we were of you. The time you had with him in Denmark, how you were his first daughter, how he always mentioned you when he talked about his past and his homeland. He said you were named after the horse that won the Derby, the first time he was at the track with his own father. We never met our grandparents on his side, we’ve never been to Denmark. And our names mean absolutely nothing.”
Ilka was sitting straight up, hanging on every single word.
“Another thing. It’s a lot because of you that I’ve devoted my life to horses. I hated them when I was a kid, but I wanted to impress Dad and make him proud. But he never came to Grandpa’s stable. Only to the track and out to the Conaways’.”
Amber’s eyes were closed now, but she looked so torn up that Ilka could barely watch as she spoke.
“You probably can’t imagine how hurt we were when he left the funeral home to you. We weren’t good enough in his eyes to take over his business. Mom thought he must have kept in touch with you, that he lived a do
uble life.”
Ilka couldn’t believe her ears. “You tell your mother that’s not true. I didn’t hear a word from him after he left us, not a single postcard, not one phone call. He didn’t even let us know I had two half sisters. And you’re more than welcome to take over the funeral home. In fact, you’d be doing me a great service. It’s all yours. Also, the few things he brought with him from Denmark. It’s all up in the room, take it.”
Ilka held her hand out. Yes, please, take it all. Especially the debt.
“No,” Amber whispered. “What’s done is done.”
She looked drowsy, as if another shot of morphine had entered her veins. “I have enough to do with the horses, and I hate looking at dead bodies.”
Her eyes were fluttering, but Ilka told her she’d driven out to the ranch to ask Fletcher for a loan, to help her get rid of the funeral home. “But then I got caught in the middle of everything.” She wasn’t sure how much Amber heard, or even if she was still conscious. “So if you know anyone who might be interested in taking over our father’s business, please let me know.”
She’s asleep, Ilka realized as she leaned back in her chair. The male nurse came in and said Raymond Fletcher had just called to say he was on his way.
“I’ll stay until he gets here,” Ilka said.
The nurse glanced at his watch. “It probably won’t be more than fifteen minutes. But then they’ll have to unpack the wheelchair and bring it up with them.”
Ilka studied her half sister. Her mouth was open a crack, her breathing labored. It was hard to tell: Was it their father’s features she recognized in the sleeping face, or her own? She felt like staying and taking care of her, but at the same time she wasn’t going to give Mary Ann the satisfaction of throwing her out again.
She lightly stroked Amber’s cheek before picking up her bag and quietly walking out.
You both should know that when I come home, I’m bringing a big debt along with me. It’s just how it’s worked out.”
Ilka had gone up to her father’s room to call her mother’s partner, Jette. The two women had been living together for fourteen years, and Ilka knew that sometimes it was better to talk to Jette, who knew how to put things to her mother. Besides, she was a big coward; her mother had kept warning her that she’d run into trouble if she went over there and cleaned up after her father. No matter how old you got, she thought, nothing was worse than having to admit your mother was right.
