“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she says.
“I don’t think that Dr. Miller’s accident was an accident.”
“What?” The color in Emily’s face drains.
“I think she was murdered, and I think that whatever happened to Lydia Gallagher’s horse Haute Couture last year had something to do with it.”
Emily doesn’t say a word. So I continue. “I think Dr. Miller knew what happened to that horse.”
“It was kidney failure,” Emily insists, but I can hear something in her voice.
“Emily, if you did some work with Dr. Miller, then you have to know what I know about horses’ kidneys. Renal failure is not common. Is it possible there’s something more to it? Do you know if she did a necropsy on the horse?”
She looks away.
“If Dr. Miller did a necropsy, what if she found something that would implicate someone associated with the horse?”
“Where did you hear this?” Emily whispers, her voice shaking.
“I just did. I need to find out if what I heard was true.”
“What do you want from me?”
I can see that her eyes are filled with tears again, and she won’t look directly at me.
“Emily, do you have access to Serena’s computer? Her files, anything like that?”
“I have to go,” she says. “I’m sorry, Scholarship. I can’t help you.”
Emily walks out the aisleway, and I turn to see Lydia, hands on hips, waiting for her at the barn’s entrance. I’ve spooked Emily for sure. I am also sure she knows something about what really happened to Lydia’s horse and to Serena. The thing I am most certain of here is what I recognized in Emily’s eyes—cold fear. What she is afraid of, I don’t know. But I am positive that Emily Davenport is scared to death.
RILEY
CHAPTER thirty-seven
Riley is nervous. First off, he hates putting Vivvie in this position, even though she insisted on it. Secondly, he has lied to her about Tristan’s involvement in the bet. But he has his reasons. He knows they are totally selfish, but Vivienne did say that she did not want a boyfriend, so he’s taken Tristan off the table for her. Is that really so bad? Besides, as much as he likes Tristan, he doesn’t think the guy would be good at all for Vivvie.
Riley grabs his sweater and backpack and heads out to Nate’s room, where tonight’s poker game—and a few other festivities—are about to go down.
When he arrives, there is all the usual high-fiving and slaps on the back.
“You ready for tonight, Reed?” Nate asks.
Riley rubs his hands together. “Gentlemen, I am going to kick every ass in this place.”
“Keep believing your delusions, brother. Keep on believing them. Hey, just so you know, Red says she wants in tonight. Says she has a surprise for me afterwards. Told you that I wasn’t out of this game yet.”
“Oh yeah?”
The room is filling up. Six of the seven usual suspects are now present.
“Yeah, man. I think she got bored waiting around for you to make a move, and Tristan is too hung up on Lydia. You hitting that yet, brother?” He slaps Tristan hard on the shoulder. Riley notices his pal cringe.
“I told you I wasn’t in on that thing. I’m surprised you are, Ri,” Tristan says. “What changed your mind?”
“The money, man!” Nate laughs. “Plus, that girl is hhhhottttt.”
Tristan had told both Nate and Riley that he wasn’t going to be involved. He couldn’t blame Riley for being mad and disappointed with him. “I guess we’ll see, Nate. Let the best man win.”
“That’s right, Reed. The best man is going to win. Wonder where Red is? I say we get started. She’ll show soon.”
Riley deals the first round, and the game is on.
An hour passes, and Riley notices that Nate keeps checking his watch.
Finally, about an hour and a half into the game, there’s a knock at the door. Nate jumps up so fast that he knocks over his chair. When he opens the door, there stands Vivienne, still in her riding clothes.
Nate smiles, looking creepily like the joker. “Glad you could make it, Red. Me and the boys were beginning to wonder.”
“Oh. Sorry I’m late. And that I didn’t change.” She shoots Riley a quick look and lets out an exaggerated sigh. “I had this really cute skirt I wanted to wear, but you know what? I had a problem.”
“You did?” Nate asks.
“You see, I have a lucky pair of panties.”
Low chuckles spread out through the group.
“You do?”
“Mm-hmm. I wear them when I get lucky. I figured that tonight I wanted to get lucky, but I couldn’t find them. So I started thinking, now where could I have left my lucky panties?”
More immature chuckles. Only Tristan is silent, staring down at the table. Riley knows his face is deep red, and Nate looks like he is about to burst out of his skin.
“Then I remembered. Riley? Do you have something of mine?”
“I th—think I do,” he stammers.
“From the other night? In the tack room?”
Riley nods.
“Well, can I have them back? I mean, when we almost got caught by Kayla, you shoved them in your backpack. Are they still there?”
Riley picks his backpack up off the floor and unzips it. He takes out the light pink lacy panties she gave him earlier that day. Now, it’s hoot and whistles from the peanut gallery.
“There they are. My lucky panties. For poker, three-day events, anything I want to get lucky for. They are a must.” She walks over and gives Riley a kiss on the lips. “Thank you.” She winks at him. “Now boys, I do believe you all owe my boyfriend some money. I’d love to sit down and play with you, but I don’t want to shake up the game at this point. Plus, I want to go over my dressage test again for tomorrow. See you later.” She holds the panties on her finger and twirls them as she walks out.
The room is now silent.
When the door closes behind her, everyone looks at Riley. “Riley, you and Vivienne?” Tristan asks, not trusting his voice.
Riley nods.
“Well, then, I guess everyone needs to pay the man,” Tristan says.
They all hand over the cash they’d put into the pool—twenty-two thousand, six hundred dollars.
After Riley puts the cash away, Tristan stands up and tosses in his chips. “I’m out. I’m tired, and I want to look at my test again, too.”
Riley watches Tristan leave. He should feel good about the money. He is that much closer to his goal of freedom. But he doesn’t feel good. He feels like a complete ass.
CHAPTER thirty-eight
It’s the morning after the poker game, and I wake up exhausted from visions of pink panties, drooling guys, sick horses, baseball caps, falling ladders, dead hands, blood, and a scorpion invading my dreams and my life.
At 5:45 a.m. Martina and I go to the cafeteria for our morning cup of coffee and to meet up with Riley. While Martina is at the counter doctoring her coffee, I whisper to Riley, “What happened after I left?”
“Actually, you kind of brought the game to a standstill. Tristan folded, said he wanted to go back over his dressage test. Then I did the same thing—after I collected our cash.”
“He knows today’s test perfectly. I’ve been watch—”
“Watching him.” Riley finishes my sentence.
“Yeah,” I utter in total shame.
“I know you like the guy, Vivvie.”
“Riley, I cannot like him. I mean, he was involved in that stupid bet, and he has a girlfriend. He’s just… Tristan’s a distraction. And like I told you, I came here to achieve certain goals. Not be distracted.”
He nods. “I want to talk to you about all that.”
“About what?” I take a sip from my coffee.
Martina comes up to us. “Should we go down to the barn?” she asks.
“Yep.” We pick up our show clothes, bagged and ready. Dressage will run all morni
ng, and stadium will take up the afternoon.
I am competing Harmony at the preliminary level. My competition is Lydia, Tristan, Emily, Riley, Shannon, and Martina.
Our dressage test time is 11:08. After Harmony finishes her breakfast, I take her out of her stall. As I’m braiding her mane she repeatedly shows me Serena and Christian, who’s wearing the cap. They are arguing, and I can feel anger between them. Then she shows Serena walking away from Christian, and I feel a surge of sadness—from Harmony? Serena? Christian? Both? I’m just not sure.
Then Harmony shows me Christian opening his hand. In it is a diamond ring—did Serena call off their engagement? Or maybe this is just before he proposed? He might even have proposed in the barn.
As I’m wrapping the last braid, Holden walks into the barn. “Hey, Vivienne. You ready for today?”
“I hope so.”
“You’re going to be great. You’ve been working hard, and this horse, she has been trying for you. I can see it.”
I smile. “Thank you.” I can’t help but feel somewhat awkward around Holden, thinking that Kayla could possibly be cheating on him.
“Okay. I want you in the warm-up in thirty,” Holden says.
“You got it.” I finish grooming Harmony, and change into my show clothes. My mom spent an ungodly amount buying me a new dressage coat, white breeches, beige breeches, a hunt coat, and an air vest for cross-country. My half of the bet money is in some way going back to my mom. I just can’t let her know how I got it. I’ll have to be creative with my well-earned windfall.
I’ve got my show clothes on, Harmony is tacked up, and our warm-up is going smoothly. We are in sync, and this is the best I’ve felt since coming to Fairmont.
Holden calls me over. “Walk her out. You’re on deck after Lydia.”
I try to maintain calm and not transfer any nervous energy into Harmony as I run through the test in my head.
I watch as Lydia and Geisha perform. They do amazingly well, as close to perfect as anyone could possibly be.
Now Harmony and I are trotting around the arena. The bell chimes and we enter the ring.
A: Enter working trot.
X: Halt salute
C: Track right
Each movement goes through my head automatically. I have done this test in the arena, in my head, and even in my sleep. And as we work through each gait, each movement in precision together, my mind is concentrating, my heart is beating, a connection is happening between Harmony and me that melds us.
Seventeenth movement working trot at C.
Turn right at B.
At X turn right, and finally at G, halt and salute.
As we salute, I hear the applause. I pat Harmony on both sides of her neck as I allow her to walk out of the arena on a long rein. I am so happy! She has been absolutely spectacular. The quality of the trot, her transitions, her counter canter, her balance—all of it.
We come out of the arena, and there’s Tristan off to the side. He smiles and gives me a thumbs-up. I can’t help it. I smile back. Riley is standing next to him. He salutes us, then inclines his head to the side, indicating that he needs to go get on Santos.
Kayla and Holden come up to me, hand in hand. “Good job, Vivienne. You should be happy with that,” Kayla says.
“I am. I really am.”
“Still have two more events to go,” Holden pointlessly reminds me. “Keep at it. Better get her taken care of, so you can be ready this afternoon for stadium. Don’t you go at two twelve?”
“I do.”
“Newman will want you in the warm-up, then, at one forty. Make sure you have some lunch.”
I take Harmony back to the barn, remove her dressage tack, brush her down, and give her a snack. When I come out of the tack room, I am face to face with Lydia. “Excellent ride,” I say.
“It was.”
“Right. Must have been difficult, though. Isn’t this the first event on your new horse? I heard about what happened to Haute Couture.”
She crosses her arms in front of her. “It was very difficult. I loved her. But I am fortunate to have found Geisha now.”
“To replace Haute.” I cross my arms, too.
“No. I could never replace her. You can’t just replace an animal you’ve loved. I’m not like that.”
I study her, more than a little surprised. “Of course. It’s horrible how she died.”
“Why do you care so much about how my horse died?”
“Oh, it’s just that my mom is a large-animal vet. So I know that renal failure is pretty rare. I’m curious as to what the issues were. I may be going into veterinary medicine myself.”
“Haute had kidney issues. Period. Are you really interested from a veterinary medicine point of view? What are you really getting at, Scholarship?”
What was I getting at, exactly? “I’m not getting at anything, other than I think it’s odd how Dr. Miller died so soon after your horse.”
“So?”
“Right. So… so, I have to go to lunch. See you at stadium.”
As I start to walk out of the barn, feeling piercing daggers on my back, I run into none other than Christian Albright. “Hello, Vivienne.”
“Oh, hello. Hey, I was wondering…,” I start to say when he holds up his hand.
“Hate to cut you off, but I see Lydia down there, and I need to speak with her. Can we talk later?”
“Sure.”
Goose bumps snake down my spine as several ugly thoughts enter my head. What if Christian Albright pushed Serena off that ladder? What if Lydia knew about it? Was Lydia’s horse connected somehow? And, honestly, I’m not sure any of this is right on. But I can’t help feeling like I’m getting closer to solving what really happened to Serena.
CHAPTER thirty-nine
Our stadium round is double clear and by the end of the day, guess where we are in the standings? First! Yes, Harmony and I are in first place, with Lydia on our heels in second, then Riley, which I am extremely happy about. We are followed by Shannon, Tristan, Martina, and finally Emily—who has been aggressively avoiding me.
When I fall into bed that night I slip fast into a dream-free sleep. But when I wake up at around five, my stomach is killing me. Is it nerves? It has to be nerves. I love cross-country. Though there is some pressure to it all, I know Harmony and I can handle it. Plus, I want to kick Lydia’s butt.
Then an image of Harmony comes to mind. She is down in her stall, on the ground, thrashing. I put on my shoes, don’t even change out of my pajamas, and book it as fast as I can down to the barn.
There she is, totally down inside her stall! On the wall next to the barn’s office is an emergency phone that dials directly to Kayla and Holden.
I pick up the phone, my hands shaking. Must get her up, get a vet—Kayla picks up on the third ring. “It’s Vivienne. Harmony is down. I think she’s colicking. Please call the vet!”
“Okay, honey. We’ll be right down. Can you get her up?”
“I’m going to try,” I say, trying to keep focused, not fall apart the way I want to.
I rush into her stall and lean down over her. Her eyes are wide with pain. I place a hand on her neck. “It’s okay, big girl. It’s going to be okay. I need you to try and get up.”
She shows me her food.
“I know. I know it’s stuck, but the vet is on the way and I promise you’re going to be okay. Can you stand up for me? Can you?” When a horse colics, keeping them on their feet is vital so they don’t roll and twist their intestines. The thing is, I don’t know how long she’s been down, and if she’s been rolling. I swallow back the lump in my throat.
I gently nudge her, and she must finally trust me, because she stands up, though very shakily. God, please let her be okay.
Kayla and Holden arrive. Holden goes into the office, immediately gets a syringe of Banamine, and injects her with the med.
“Let’s get her walking,” Kayla says. “Try to get her over on the green grass. See if she’ll eat some.�
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I guide her slowly over to a small grassy patch outside the barn. She puts her head down to the grass, takes a meager nibble, and that’s it. This is so not good. I am really scared.
Fifteen long minutes pass before the vet shows up. Meanwhile, the campus is starting to come to life as students arrive to feed, add water, and clean stalls.
“Vivienne, this is Dr. Lawson,” Kayla says, introducing me to a young, dark-haired woman.
“Hi. Let’s see what’s going on with your mare, Vivienne.” I like how she gets right down to business.
Dr. Lawson does an extensive exam, and then tells me what I already know. “She’s colicking. I don’t think we are looking at surgery, but I cannot rule it out.”
“We already gave her Banamine,” Kayla lets her know.
“Good. Okay, I’m going to give her a little sedation and oil her. Get some electrolytes going, too.”
I am the daughter of a vet. I don’t get squeamish when needles have to be used. It doesn’t bother me when the vet has to guide the tube for oiling a horse up through the nostril and down through the trachea and into the gastrointestinal tract. It doesn’t. But for some reason, this time, with this horse—it does.
I can feel Harmony’s distress and panic even with the sedation she’s been given. As Dr. Lawson begins to pump the oil into her to lubricate the digestive tract and help any foods that have gotten stuck pass out of her, Harmony gives me an image of a hand and leaves. Then she shows me the bucket of oats, beet pulp, and carrots that she is fed every day. The hand, the leaves—it’s all a little confusing.
A little over an hour later, Dr. Lawson is packing up. “Now, we wait and see. I think we caught it early enough. To me, she is already looking a bit more bright-eyed. I’ll stop back by late this afternoon. If you see anything that looks like she is going into distress again, call immediately. No feed for her today. Maybe if she passes the oil by the time I see her this afternoon, you can mix her up a bran mash, but nothing else. Let’s see how it goes for now.” She shakes my hand and says her good-byes to the Fairmonts.
Silent Harmony: A Vivienne Taylor Horse Lover's Mystery (Fairmont Riding Academy Book 1) Page 15
