She nodded as he approached and was surprised to see that he looked tentative. Very unlike him. He was also dressed more casually than she’d seen him, almost carelessly, she thought.
He stopped and cleared his throat. “Ms. West …”
“Kylah’s fine. Really.”
“Kylah, then,” he said, starting over. “I wanted you to hear from me how sorry I am for the fright you received – the shots fired at you. I’d planned to tell you last night but found myself forced to deal with an unpleasant incident with Logan Yates. It’s ridiculous that he still harbors a teenager’s infatuation for my wife, one that was never reciprocated.”
Kylah frowned, uncomfortable with his revelation. None of that was her business. She was aware that some people shared their personal lives with ease. She wasn’t one of them and didn’t care to be on either side of that type exchange.
When Grant realized Kylah had nothing to say to his comments, he tugged at a collar that didn’t appear the least tight and stumbled on. “But, of course, that’s a minor inconvenience, hardly worth mentioning in light of the dangerous happenings of the past few days. I’ve advised Sheriff Mitchell that I find all of this unacceptable.”
Unacceptable? Murder? Now that sounded a bit more like the pompous dean she knew and had come to dislike.
“I’m not happy with it myself, but I’m fine.”
“That’s reassuring and I’m relieved you didn’t request to be released from your contract although I suppose going on with the show comes naturally to you.”
“Runs in the family, you mean?”
He hesitated, perhaps trying to decide if she was being sincere or sarcastic. She almost felt sorry for him. He cleared his throat. “Yes, well, that and your own professionalism, of course. You came to us highly recommended.”
Kylah waited, not having a clue where he was headed. She knew she wasn’t helping him with his end of the conversation but even Trouble seemed to be losing interest as he lifted a paw and began grooming himself.
Grant made a visible effort to regroup. “Rita is adamant about going forward with the reenactment, even though her brother disagrees with her.” He looked troubled by the history chair’s decision which surprised Kylah. She thought Grant would be all about the bottom line – and the glory – regardless of potential consequences. After making all the appropriate noises of concern. “Of course, Les has never been able to rein her in, even when she was a teenager.”
“I admit I did get the impression that would be her decision in the end.” Kylah didn’t comment on Rita’s relationship with her brother which was no more her business than Logan’s feelings for Grant’s wife.
Grant nodded. “She told me you and Wolf paid a call to discuss whether or not to move ahead with things.” He looked around. “In fact, I thought I might find Wolf close by.”
Ah, Kylah thought, enlightened. Grant’s visit had never been about apologizing to her. He was hunting for Wolf but, for some reason only he understood, he didn’t want to be obvious about it.
“I’m not at all certain the sheriff is up to being the lead on this investigation, especially considering the serious nature of the crime. Wolf has more specialized training. And connections.”
“So I’ve heard.” No way was she commenting on his inuendo. Again, not her business.
“Well, I’m glad you’re not rattled by these regrettable incidents.”
Far less rattled than the woman who’d lost her life companion, she thought. She wondered if he’d apologized in person to Ella Necaise. She murmured another reassurance that she was fine and waited as he fumbled his way through a leave-taking that was long overdue.
Kylah watched, bemused, as the taillights of his truck faded into the dusk.
* * *
Odd conversation, that. And I gather from her expression that Kylah feels the same. I can’t help but wonder if Grant is as inept an administrator as he is a communicator. One thing he did make clear is that he has no confidence in Sheriff Mitchell’s ability to nail the villain. Of course, he’s unaware that I have lingered in the vicinity to lend my expertise to the hunt.
Kylah and I continue to stand together, watching as the purples of dusk fade to the charcoals of night. I hear the distinctive motor sounds of Wolf’s truck in the distance. As his headlights approach, glinting here and there through the trees, I realize this - Wolf’s almost certain arrival - is why we haven’t removed ourselves to more comfortable surrounds. And I wonder if Kylah realizes that truth.
Chapter Thirteen
Sunlight sparkled on grass still wet with dew as Kylah rode Andre at a sedate walk along the wide path she and Jake had charted the previous day. It was something less than a mile in length and began and ended in sparse woodland patches. Near the center, where Albrecht Creek intersected the low hills, was one of the key battle scenes as laid out by the organizers. There were no records of the actual battle fought along the tiny, winding creek but a significant number of artifacts had been found in this particular half acre. She and Andre would clear two easy jumps, the half-rotted trunk of a huge tree felled by lightning at some point in the past and the narrow creek itself.
Jake and Wolf followed on foot with plans to stop and watch at the creek where she would take the second jump. For some reason, the thought of Wolf watching made her a tiny bit self-conscious. The realization surprised her as she rarely gave any thought to her audience, other than to ensure her mount had a safe space to perform, free from kids darting into her path. This was how she made her living, after all. An audience was another aspect of her work.
She shrugged the distraction of Wolf aside and focused her attention on the route she traveled. She reached the creek and nudged Andre over it at a slow jump rather than having him walk through. He needed to feel the bank on both sides, to know there was solid footing. She did the same when she reached the downed tree, enjoying the surge of muscles beneath her, the effortless lift over an obstacle created by nature. Their return trip would be at a much faster pace, not a full out run but at least a brisk canter in most places. The speed would help ensure Andre’s jumps were higher and more dramatic than they needed to be.
A few feet in front of Andre, a squirrel ran down a scrawny pine chattering. Andre held steady to his training but snorted in displeasure at the raucous sound. Kylah laughed, acknowledging an unexpected lift in spirits. The sun was shining brighter than it had in several days, the air smelled like nature, and she was astride a finished horse who enjoyed a good workout. Life felt good.
* * *
Wolf acknowledged the itch along his neck and put it aside. Kylah was a gifted horsewoman. True, her profession had its hazards, more than most, but she was knowledgeable and she was skilled. Since meeting her, he’d done his homework, looked her up online, watched films of her work, the awards she’d won. She was viewed as an expert in her field. Wolf was good at research and he’d dug deep. He should feel reassured but the feeling lingered.
Jake didn’t help things. Wolf kept his gaze focused ahead but he knew every time the other man glanced back over his shoulder or out to the side. He knew every time Jake rubbed the back of his neck the way Wolf wanted to do – but didn’t.
“What’s got you edgy?” he asked at last.
“Wish I knew,” Jake admitted.
“You said you and Kylah walked this yesterday, picked the path she’d take, talked through the jumps.”
“Yep.”
Wolf glanced at the other man’s tanned and weathered face but that was all Jake had to say. Wolf didn’t press for an answer the man didn’t have but his own vigilance heightened. Though watchful, Trouble didn’t seem to share their unease.
From time to time, the cat paused to examine the hoofprints pressed into the ground. There were clear imprints where the ground was soft but nothing the least alarming to be seen in their steady path. Though Wolf could detect a faint softening in the ground, it still felt safe and solid. Around them birds chirped and warbled and squirrels tal
ked to one another in the tree tops, further evidence that Kylah had made an uneventful passage through.
“Creek’s coming up just ahead,” Jake said at last. “That’s her second jump.”
Wolf couldn’t have said why the words heightened the faint sense of something wrong. Trouble picked up his pace, disappearing from view as he trotted over a small hilltop. Wolf heard the peaceful gurgle of rippling water, then Trouble’s piercing yowl.
Wolf’s heart jerked as he and Jake broke into a run. Trouble appeared to be wrestling with something at the base of a tree a few feet from the open path they traveled. Jake uttered a curse and Wolf knew the prickling on the back of his neck hadn’t lied. He saved his breath as he raced ahead.
A thick rope had been stretched on their side of the creek bank, pulled tight and wrapped around stout tree trunks on either side. As Jake pulled his pocketknife, Wolf joined Trouble at the end of the rope. Grasping the heavy cotton, he put all of his muscle into pulling at the stake driven deep into the ground, the broad head buried in the decaying layer of leaves and dead grass. It inched up.
Wolf felt the jerk on the rope, then a loosening of the tension, as Jake’s blade sawed through the rope. Jake’s face was ashen as he looked at Wolf. “The log! Before she gets there!”
Without hesitation, Wolf took off in a dead run, not stopping to think or question or react. He had no idea where Kylah was on the path they’d traveled, if she were still walking to its beginning or galloping back toward him, toward a jump she might clear only to encounter a second obstacle she couldn’t see.
Wolf had to hope the route she’d taken was as safe as what they’d traveled so far. He hadn’t been with Kylah and Jake when they’d charted it and he couldn’t take the time to watch for the gelding’s tracks in the ground ahead. His cell phone was useless because he’d seen Kylah hand hers off to Jake before she stepped her foot into the stirrup and swung her leg across the broad back of her horse, settling into the saddle with a look of coming home. Andre, she’d called him, stroking his broad neck in affection as he’d pranced in front of them.
A streak of black passed him and Wolf didn’t even try to deny the flash of relief that swept him. He trusted an animal’s instinct every time and this cat seemed to have intuition in spades.
With sheer strength of will, he settled his frantic thoughts into action and kept running, grateful for the long afternoons of playing ball with a bunch of energetic teens. As he and the cat crossed the last low slope, the copse of woods Jake had described earlier loomed on the horizon. Wolf pushed himself faster. There, the fallen tree and, sickeningly, the same stretch of thick rope, white in the sun against the dark tones of lichen-covered bark. He could not be certain if he heard the thud of hooves or if the sound in his ears was his own heartbeat or Trouble’s deepthroated rumbling of displeasure.
Without slowing to pull his knife he scrambled atop the length of fallen tree and shouted her name. His voice echoed through the woods and then he heard the rhythmic drum of hooves and knew horse and rider came forward at a brisk pace. He dug for his knife as he called her name again, sliding down to slash at the rope. The horse broke into the clearing and Wolf shouted one last time as he flung the rope aside, praying it landed far enough or that Kylah saw and heard him before Andre’s legs became entangled in the heavy cotton.
He stood in their path, throwing his hands in the air and willing the horse to see him in time. Kylah’s eyes widened at the same moment Andre swerved to one side. Wolf wanted to close his eyes but he watched as she fought to stay in the saddle and calm the larger than average equine. Not until she was safe did he heave a breath and let his shoulders drop.
“What the hell!” Kylah swung her leg over and slid down the gelding, hanging onto the reins until the horse quieted and quit pulling against her hold. “What’s wrong? Where’s Jake?”
Wolf still couldn’t take in enough air to speak but he pulled her close, feeling her heart racing as fast as his.
“I could have run you over.” Kylah’s tone was bewildered.
“Least of my worries,” Wolf said. He slid his hands down her arms, then stepped back and picked up the rope.
She stared in confusion as he pulled it into a coil in his hands. “What the hell?” she said again, more question than exclamation, now. “I just came through here, Wolf. No more than half an hour ago. I would have seen that.”
“You would have,” he agreed. His tone was grim. “Jake cut through the one at the creek and sent me running ahead.”
Kylah looked sick and rubbed Andre’s neck. “Jake would never have gotten here in time, not if it were just me and him today, not with his bad leg.”
Wolf hadn’t slowed long enough to consider why Jake hadn’t forged ahead but he knew Kylah was right. The other man wouldn’t have made it although Wolf knew he would have died trying. He followed the rope to its end on one side and pulled up the wooden peg that held it to the ground. He studied it and the other piece of wood with two holes where the rope threaded through.
“That’s a tensioner,” Kylah said. “We were sent pictures and told we’d have to use similar to secure our tents if that’s where we chose to stay. They didn’t have to be real antiques but did have to be made in the same shape and from the same materials, wood or brass. I’ve seen them in use at Ella’s tent and some others.”
Wolf didn’t speak as he walked to the opposite end of the log and pulled up the remaining set. He stood for a moment, staring at the objects in his hand while the image of her bleak eyes haunted him. He knew she was imagining her horse crumpled and hurting. Seething inside, he set everything down long enough to retrieve his phone and dial the sheriff’s number. He got a recording and ended the call without leaving a message. Picking up the rope and pegs and tensioners, he moved back to Kylah. With his hands full he couldn’t pull her into his arms but he stepped close and she leaned against him. “Let’s go,” he said gruffly, after a moment. He could’ve lost her today and someone was going to pay for that.
Jake met them halfway. It took no more than a glance for Wolf to see that he carried the same type rope and pegs as Wolf had gathered from the tree trunk.
“Sheriff’s going to be waiting for us back at the trailer,” Jake said, his gaze sweeping Kylah and the horse.
“We’re fine, Jake.” Kylah’s tone was reassuring. “Wolf said your quick thinking sent him running. He made it to the tree and the trip rope before Andre and I did. Thank you.”
Jake flicked Wolf a glance that held both relief and gratitude.
Wolf nodded at him. “And thanks for reaching the sheriff. I tried him but didn’t get an answer.”
Jake reached for Andre’s reins and Kylah let him take them. Wolf suspected she knew how much Jake needed to do something, anything, for her after the scare they’d had.
* * *
The sheriff awaits us in the fairgrounds, parked near Kylah’s trailer with blue lights flashing. Mercifully his siren is silent. My ears are more sensitive than most.
What a near disastrous morning we’ve had although it was not the disaster it might have been. I can all too easily see Andre thrashing upon the ground, Kylah pinned beneath his massive weight. I don’t doubt Wolf has been envisioning the same. The sheriff has not yet exited his car and seems not to see us all trooping toward him.
Uh-oh, what’s this? I see the profile of a young human in the back seat. A young person already in trouble with the law? Kits have their troublesome moments, I concede, but not the angst found among human offspring. And thank goodness for that!
As we reach the patrol car, the sheriff climbs out to meet us. I note he doesn’t spare a backward glance for the youth ensconced in the rear of the car.
“What’ve you got?” That’s cutting to the chase as these humans are wont to say.
Wolf drops the objects he carries into the sheriff’s outstretched hand but the rope remains coiled around one shoulder. “Booby traps. Two of them. Stretched behind two natural jumps along Kylah
’s practice route.”
The sheriff scowls from Wolf to Kylah with a sidelong glance that includes Jake. He looks fierce and I can tell he understands the risk this posed to horse and rider. “Who laid out the route?”
It is Kylah who answers. “The general route was laid out by the organizers but Jake and I did a walk through yesterday. We decided on a few twists and turns, some for effect and some to make sure Andre would have sure footing. We checked for holes and soft places and we picked where I would jump.”
There is silence as the sheriff ponders her words and studies the items in his hands. Finally, he says, “Looks like a kid’s stunt to me and I may already have the culprit.”
We all turn our attention to the back of the patrol car and I hear Wolf say succinctly, “Aw, hell, Les. Rita needs to buy you a brain for your next birthday.”
Ha! A zinger that was. I’ll tuck it away for future use.
“Well, damn, Wolf. Show a little respect.”
I hear the slightest edge of humor in the sheriff’s voice. The stronger note, however, is sheer irritation.
“Earn it.” Wolf opens the back door and jerks his head at the boy inside. “Climb out, son.” As the boy steps out beside him, Wolf asks, “Have you done anything wrong, Case?”
“No, sir.”
“Then straighten your shoulders.”
Case glances at the sheriff then does as he’s told.
“Why aren’t you in school, boy? They give you a vacation day?” The sheriff glares at him.
“No, sir … not exactly.”
“Then what exactly? I can take you in for truancy if nothing else.”
Case hunches his shoulders again and I feel an immediate sympathy. The sheriff is a harsh one.
The Trouble with Horses Page 54
