by Toni Leland
A low whistle came through the phone. “You think you were made?”
“I’m not sure, but if you read the office report tomorrow, you’ll see some peculiarities in the aftermath of the wreck. I’m on my way back to home base right now, so I’ll catch up to you first of the week.”
“Okay, but watch your back. These guys are crazy.”
“Don’t I know it. Hey, who’s winning?”
“Tied right now, but my money’s on Auburn.”
Dillon laid the phone down and stared out the windshield at the dreary landscape painted in shades of brown and gray. Hard to believe that, a week ago, he’d been playing in the snow with Ginger. Harder to believe he now had problems as big as hers.
Julia unfolded the sheet of paper and laid it on the table, her voice fairly trembling with excitement.
“Casey, look. I found King’s owner!”
Casey squinted at the page, then shook her head. “I’ll be damned. Good for you. We’ll contact them right away.” She looked up. “How did you happen to find this?”
“I wasn’t sleepy last night, so I fiddled on the Internet looking at other rescue sites. This place was advertised, so I went there. They call it the NetPosse.” She pulled out a kitchen chair and sat down. “I think you should register the farm. I could take pictures of all the horses and post them there. Maybe we’d find more owners.”
Casey looked thoughtful. “It’s a good idea. I knew such an organization existed, but with my computer-challenged status, I never followed up on it. You do know most of the horses here are from abuse or abandonment situations.”
“Yes, but do you know for sure they weren’t stolen before that?”
“You got a point. Hell, if it don’t cost anything, let’s do it.” She grinned. “You can have the honor of calling King’s owners.”
“Thanks. Now, one other thing—I want to buy Little Bit.”
Casey brightened. “Sold! Boy, this is already turning out to be a good year.”
“I have to go back to work tomorrow. I’ll pick up a disposable camera and get your money. You decide how much you want for her.”
Casey stood up. “I’ll let you know. Right now, I got horses to juggle. A couple of yearlings are coming in later.” She started toward the door, then turned back. “Hey, did you see the news about that illegal Florida slaughterhouse?”
Julia sucked in a breath. “Florida? No!”
“Yeah, the police found an abandoned farm in the Panhandle that was obviously being used to slaughter horses. The operation musta heard that someone was on to them, because they cleared out and left the evidence behind.” She shook her head. “They’ll just start up again somewhere else. You know, I don’t object to humane slaughter. It’s sure better than starving to death or dying of some disease, but the illegal places don’t care about the animals’ conditions. And that I hate.”
She was still shaking her head as she went outside. Julia stood up and discovered her legs had turned to rubber. She had to find Coquette before the unimaginable happened. How she would do that remained a mystery.
Around eleven o’clock, she took the farm shopping list and headed into town, her brain on overdrive. Only a few hours remained until Dillon would be back. Her heart thumped and a giddy sensation jiggled through her stomach. She hadn’t realized how much she’d missed him, and she had so much to tell him.
She felt inspired and renewed by her earlier phone conversation with King’s owners. The woman had burst into tears and she’d needed almost five minutes to calm down enough to get directions to the farm. Julia felt so empowered by the exchange she couldn’t wait to get those photographs and start searching for other people who’d lost their animals. Instead of stopping at the strip mall in the next town, she took the ramp for I-270 and headed for the outskirts of St. Louis where she’d seen a large, fancy mall on her last trip to town. Her own shopping list included more than groceries.
“I’m two hours away. Where would you like to go for dinner?”
Julia shivered with delight at the sound of Dillon’s voice. “Anywhere you want. What will be open?”
He laughed. “Cities never sleep. We can go back to that steak house you liked so much.”
“Perfect. Are you coming out to Casey’s, or should I meet you someplace?”
“I’ll call you when I’m thirty minutes out. Meet me at the motel where we stayed.”
Julia laid the phone down and moved to the sink to unwrap the towel from her head and examine her new hair color. She’d chosen a dark burgundy that looked a little punk. She combed through the damp strands, amazed at how good it looked, even if it was extreme for her personal preferences. While her hair dried, she cleaned up her fingernails. Farm chores were hard on a manicure, but a coat of soft pink polish covered the worst of the stains. When the polish was dry, she opened her shopping bags and pulled out her purchases. She’d been surprised as she had tried on the soft brown gabardine slacks in the store. She’d clearly lost some weight. Casey was right. Manual labor kept the pounds from accumulating, but the biggest factor was eating at home. The absence of greasy burgers and fries had made quite a difference.
She held up two tops, a silky turquoise classic shirt style and a pale rose knit with a low neck. She hung up the knit, smiling wickedly. She’d save it for later. The final items in the shopping bag were a small bottle of cologne, two pair of hoop earrings—one gold, one silver—and a flashy ring she hadn’t been able to resist.
She nodded with satisfaction. By the time dinner was over, Dillon wouldn’t be able to say no.
An hour later, she went downstairs and into the kitchen. “I’ll probably be late.”
Casey had been poking through the freezer, but she turned and her eyes grew into saucers. “Good grief, girl, lookit you!”
Julia felt the blood rush to her cheeks, and she giggled. “Knock it off.”
“Seriously, you clean up good.” Her eyes narrowed mischievously. “Are you sure you’ll even be coming back tonight?”
Julia’s face heated up even more and she stammered. “Casey, stop. I told you, I barely know the guy.”
“There’s ways to change that, ya know.”
Julia couldn’t help herself and she laughed. “Seems to me you’re the one who should be getting a boyfriend.”
Casey plopped a frozen pot pie down on the counter. “I’m workin’ on that, believe me.”
Julia pursed her lips. “Listen, if I don’t get back tonight—”
“I’ll take care of Little Bit, don’t worry.”
Julia chuckled. Absolutely nothing got past this woman. “Thanks. See ya when I see ya.”
Julia sat in the car, fidgeting. She’d already checked her hair twice in the rearview mirror, and opened and closed the top button of her blouse, finally deciding to leave it buttoned. A small brown car pulled into the parking lot and Dillon unfolded from the driver’s side. Taking a deep breath, Julia stepped out onto the pavement.
“Damn, Lady, you shouldn’t be walking around looking like that!”
He hugged her hard and she inhaled his scent, carried instantly back to Massachusetts and the last time she’d been in his arms.
He stepped back and smiled. “Happy to see me?”
“You have no idea.”
He slipped his arm around her shoulders and walked her back toward his car. “So who’d you borrow the junker from?”
She stopped and shrugged out of his grasp, feigning indignation. “I beg your pardon. That’s my new car.”
“You bought that?”
He laughed and she playfully slapped him on the arm. “Yes, it’s all I could afford.”
He started the engine. “I guess that means you got your driver’s license.”
Julia pulled it out of her pocket. “Yup, see?”
He studied it for a moment, then looked at her, his eyes dark. “Where did you get this?”
Her pulse jerked. She’d forgotten that he’d been involved with counterfeiting. She looke
d away.
“Where do you think? The motor vehicle department.”
He handed the card back and put the car in reverse. “Huh. Well, you better hope you don’t get pulled over. That’ll never fly.”
She swallowed hard. “How did you know?”
He didn’t answer immediately, and she knew he was trying to find a way around his own deception. Finally, he glanced over at her.
“Well, I know you’ve assumed a new identity and, therefore, you wouldn’t have any ID unless it was fake.”
She slumped in the seat. “I had to do something. You can’t imagine what it’s like to be a non-person.”
He patted her hand. “I might be able to help you get something that won’t get you arrested.”
“And how exactly would you do that?”
He exhaled sharply. “I have a story too, Ginger. I think we’d better have our conversation tonight.”
Chapter 35
Julia took a sip of her wine and gazed across the table at Dillon, fear creeping into her head. She wanted to tell him everything, but what would be the consequences? He gave her that crooked grin she’d grown to love, and her anxiety grew. She couldn’t imagine never seeing him again.
He chuckled. “So, tell me what Miss Green has been up to while I’ve been away.”
Caught off guard, she laughed. “Well, my life’s not exactly in the fast lane, but we did have some excitement at Casey’s.”
Dillon signaled the server for two more drinks, and Julia settled into her story of finding King’s owner. Dillon listened with obvious interest, nodding and smiling.
“Good for you. Casey must be happy you’re there to help her.”
“There’s more…I bought a horse!”
The stunned look on his face changed to knitted eyebrows and serious eyes. “Ginger, why would you do that? You’re on the threshold of leaving town.”
Her happiness disappeared and she looked down into her wine. “I know. It was probably stupid, but…” She looked up, holding his gaze. “Dillon, I have to have something, feel some kind of connection to another living thing.”
Immediately, she realized her blunder. “I mean, something or someone who needs me as much as I need them.”
Dillon took in a deep breath and blew it out between pursed lips. “Yeah, I understand. But if you have to take off on short notice, what about the horse?
She sat back. “I’m not going to just take off. I’m planning for this, it will be well-thought out before I make the move. And I’ll just have to take the filly into account in those plans.”
“Do you even know how to take care of this horse?”
She nodded. “I guess I’d better start from the beginning. In my previous life as Julia Dorsey, I had a beautiful barn full of expensive horses.” She gave him a wry smile. “If you’d looked my name up on Google, you’d know that.”
Dillon’s color drained and she grinned. “So how much of this story do you already know?”
He shook his head. “After you told me your name, I did a quick search, but only read the first article about your husband. I felt crummy checking up on you, so I didn’t read the others. I wanted to hear it from you.”
She gazed at him for a long moment, wondering if he was telling the truth. It didn’t matter. He’d either believe what she was about to tell him, or not.
She ran her finger around the base of her wine glass, dredging up the painful past.
“The horses were everything to me. They were the only thing that kept me going. Stephen had allowed me to take riding lessons, then he bought the ranch way out in the country as a way to keep me isolated. I didn’t mind. I spent the days riding my favorite mare and preparing for horse shows—another activity Stephen allowed. But he always went with me, never let me be alone when I wasn’t at home. He was more jealous and suspicious than you can imagine. I was his prisoner.” Her voice caught. “In more ways than one.”
Dillon couldn’t take his eyes off the gorgeous creature sitting across the table from him. A little makeup and good clothes had transformed her into a breathtaking woman. He watched her fine features as she related her story of life with a monster. A small storm began brewing in his head as the tale unfolded. He’d like nothing better than to get his hands on Stephen Dorsey and beat the crap out of him.
Ginger closed her eyes briefly at some remembered horror, then continued. “Stephen’s business involved many important and wealthy people in the Seattle area, and he paraded me through a series of social events every year, showing me off on his arm like an expensive pair of cufflinks. The worst part was that, every time, he would imagine I was flirting with one of the men, or actually having an affair. When we returned home after those events, he…”
Dillon reached across the table and took her hand. It was cold as ice. “You don’t have to tell me. That part of your life is behind you. All I care about is how you got here and where you’ll go next.”
The server returned, breaking the fragile connection.
After a few minutes of silence, Ginger continued. “About two years ago, I started planning to leave. I made all the right inquiries, followed the battered women option, and began gathering anything I might need in a new life, whether it would be through divorce or disappearance. As I told you, Stephen would have killed me if I’d tried to start legal proceedings, so I studied the art of disappearing and chose that road.” She shook her head. “Believe me, it’s really hard. You have to leave behind everything you love, everyone you know, even hobbies or interests like the horses.”
“So now you bought a horse. Wouldn’t that be the first thing he’d watch?”
“I know. But as long as I don’t try to register her, I should be okay.”
“If your husband never let you out of his sight, how did you escape?”
“I was competing at the Morgan Horse Grand National and World Championship show in Oklahoma City. Stephen got a call from the office about a problem with a big merger he was orchestrating. He had to fly home, but said he’d be back by the next morning to watch my big class.” Her eyes took on a faraway look. “By the time he was home in Seattle, I was on a bus headed for somewhere—anywhere.”
“You just walked away?”
Her eyes glistened with tears and she nodded. “Said goodbye to my mare, collected my escape kit from the bottom of the tack trunk, and left the fairgrounds. I had no idea where I would go, but it was going to be far, far away.”
Dillon’s chest tightened with sympathy. This poor woman had lost everything dear to her, all because of some asshole’s ego. If Dillon had any control over it, she would never have to be afraid again.
Julia could not believe how painful it was to reveal the sordid details to Dillon. His expression changed with each new disclosure—first amazement, then anger or disgust, and finally, sympathy. In a way, it made her feel good to know he cared about her situation, but would all this detritus from the past make him feel an obligation to stick with her? She shook her head. She needed to stop over-thinking these things and just let her instincts guide her.
She exhaled sharply and sat back. “Yesterday, I found out he sold the ranch and the horses last week. I guess that means he’s given up on finding me, although it may be wishful thinking on my part.”
“Don’t be too sure, Ginger. Obsessive people seldom give up. It’s an affront to their power. If Stephen thinks for one minute that you’re alive, he has to find you—not because he wants you, but because your dirty trick, so to speak, makes him look weak to the world.”
She nodded, knowing he spoke the truth. “I’ve wondered if he suspected that I wasn’t dead. Otherwise, why would he keep private investigators on the case after this long?”
“Exactly. And…there’s a good chance he sold your horses to see if it would bring you out of hiding. He has to know how it would affect you.”
A sharp pain ran through her chest. “You’re right. I was devastated. I even figured out who bought my good mare—a man who’d offere
d to buy her in Oklahoma.”
Dillon frowned. “How did you find that out?”
“I called his farm—”
“Jeezus, Ginger.” Dillon glanced around quickly and lowered his voice. “You can’t do stuff like that. It’s exactly the move Stephen’s bloodhounds would be watching for.”
Anger and frustration boiled to the surface. “Well, wait a minute, I’m not stupid. I called acting like I was just looking for a horse to buy.”
Dillon’s face relaxed a bit and he sat back. “What happened?”
“I got more information than I wanted. Some stall cleaner answered the phone and got snotty with me, then she told me the new horses coming from Washington State had been stolen somewhere along the way.” A hard lump rose in her throat. “My beautiful mare is out there somewhere in the hands of who knows who, on the way to who knows where.”
“Aw jeez, I’m sorry. That’s terrible.” He brightened. “Hey, this is where that stolen horse website would work.”
“Yeah, if the new owner knows about it, and reports her theft.”
Dillon thought for a moment. “Too bad you can’t do it yourself.”
“I don’t even have a picture of her.”
“How hard would it be to get one?”
Julia tilted her head and frowned. “I don’t know, maybe an old magazine? What are you thinking?”
He looked a little smug. “You can’t report her missing, but I could.”
Any doubts about Dillon’s allegiance disappeared as Julia listened to his impromptu plan for finding Coquette. He pointed out that his inquiries wouldn’t raise any suspicions, and he had the flexibility of being in many different places that had nothing to do with her. The only stumbling block would be finding a photograph of the mare. Another thought brought Julia’s optimism crashing down. If they found Coquette, and she was safe, she would go back to her legal owner. If they were too late…Julia couldn’t even think about that scenario.
