“Sometimes you just need someone to talk to, Bernie. I’m a pretty good listener.”
His grunting in response and hefting another shovelful of manure to the wheelbarrow ended the conversation in Cat’s mind. It opened another flood of questions—like whether or not she ought to be working in the barn with Bernie and no other witnesses. Maybe she should go back to the house and remind the cop of why he was there.
But as she approached the open doors, she saw him sitting beneath a tree between house and barn. So he was on the job, after all, if not willing to spend his time in the barn looking over her shoulder. That suited her just fine.
She switched aisles and checked on Martin’s horses next. Another few days and she should know whether or not Sweetpea Sue was pregnant. She hoped so. Martin seemed to be losing faith in her because his other mares hadn’t conceived with the first cover. He seemed a little desperate. What was that about, and what was he asking Bernie to do that had caused an argument at the cemetery? Bernie had been anything but forthcoming, which made her decidedly uneasy.
About to take care of her own horses—they could all use some time out in the pasture, and so she headed for the back aisle to open the gate—Cat realized Raul had entered the barn and was preparing buckets of feed. Looking decidedly unhappy, he left what he was doing to talk to her.
“Miss Clarke, Placido called me, said you’re not giving him the ride in the stakes race.”
Certain that Aidan had good reason to eliminate Raul’s brother—after finding the matches from Fernando’s Hideaway and then seeing the jockey there and learning their other brother owned the place, Cat didn’t trust him much herself—she said, “The decision wasn’t up to me.”
“Mr. McKenna hired someone named Tim Browne to ride Mac Finnian.”
Unable to hide her surprise, she started. “The hotwalker?”
“That’s what my brother said. What kind of craziness is this? It’s not right, Miss Clarke. Even if this guy got his jockey’s license, what does anyone know about him? Placido earned his ranking at the track. He deserves the chance. Not some wannabe jockey hotwalker. Can’t you talk to Mr. McKenna, get him to change his mind?”
“Indeed I will speak with Aidan about it.” Not that she would recommend Placido. “You know he has the final say as to who rides Mac Finnian. He is the trainer.”
“But you’re the backer,” Raul argued. “He wouldn’t be here without you.”
At the cemetery, Aidan had said Tim Browne was more than a backstretch worker, but he’d never explained that he was a jockey. In the meantime, she didn’t want bad feelings with Raul, so she tried to smooth things over.
“I’ll let you know if Aidan will reconsider.”
Scowling, Raul nodded and went back to his feed. Cat realized Bernie was just bringing his empty wheelbarrow back inside and probably had overheard their exchange.
She opened the pasture gate, then made for the center aisle and her horses. Just before she reached the first stall, something underfoot crunched. She looked down to see what she’d stepped on. It looked like broken glass. Stooping, she carefully picked up several of the pieces—thin and strawlike. Her heart began to pound.
Just then, she realized Bernie was standing a short way off and staring.
“Broken glass,” she said, forcing herself to stay calm. “Do you know anything about this?”
“Me? No!”
Her employees knew better than to bring glass into the barn.
Especially this type of glass.
Not knowing what else to do, she scooped it up with gloved hands and threw it in the trash. Though she scoured the barn floor, she didn’t find more glass.
Looking back, she realized Bernie had disappeared.
Cat stood there a moment, trying to decide what to do.
How could she go on, acting like this was just another day? That’s what she’d been trying to do since learning George had been murdered. She’d been putting one foot in front of the other, continuing on with her business and her life as if nothing had happened.
As if Helen hadn’t been put down like an animal.
As if she herself hadn’t been knocked out.
And now this.
How could she trust anyone associated with her own barn?
Realizing what she’d just done, she bent over the trash and got a hand on some of that broken glass, scooped it back up and carried it with her to the house where she found a plastic bag, dropped in the shards, put the small bundle into her shoulder bag, threw the gloves on the sink and left.
“Where are you headed?” the cop asked as she made for her vehicle.
He was on his feet, apparently ready to go with her.
“Racetrack,” she said.
“Hey, I’m willing. I got a couple of extra twenties in my wallet.”
Upset by his casual tone and the big grin, she got into the SUV. “If you want to bet on some races, take your own car!”
Cat needed to find Aidan to tell him about what she’d found. She roared off the property and focused on getting to the track’s backstretch as fast as she could. She made it in eleven minutes flat.
After parking in back of the shedrow, Cat ran for Mac’s stall. No colt. No Aidan. Being that the track was in the midst of its late-afternoon races, they might be at the practice track. To be certain, she decided to call to find out. She’d barely pulled the phone from her pocket when she heard the Irish lilt.
“C’mon, boyo, you and me are going to become best friends.”
She turned to see Tim Browne leading the black colt back to his stall. “Excuse me, but where can I find Aidan?”
“He left for the airport ten minutes ago.”
“Airport?”
“Aye. His brother is flying in and Aidan went to fetch him.”
Cashel was in from Ireland? What was going on? Why hadn’t Aidan told her? Feeling her adrenaline deflate, Cat turned to go back to her vehicle. What did she do now?
“Miss Clarke, if you can spare a moment…”
Though impatient, Cat waited to see what he wanted. He put Mac into his stall and gave the colt a peppermint, then turned his attention to her.
“I promise you, I will put my all into making Mac Finnian into the champion he deserves to be.”
“I certainly hope so.” She couldn’t keep a tiny note of uncertainty from her tone. “I thought you were a hotwalker.”
“No need to fret, I have my jockey’s license. Everything is legal. I have been a jockey for more than a decade. I took the hotwalker job simply to be at this track when McKenna brought the colt in from Galway.”
“You took that kind of a chance so you could convince Aidan to let you ride Mac Finnian?”
“’Twasn’t my idea at all. Truthfully, I was surprised when he asked me to do it this morning. I came to America simply to see what kind of trainer Aidan McKenna really was.”
“I don’t understand.”
“If he hasn’t said anything yet, I suppose he will, so no harm in telling you that Pegeen Flynn was my half sister. I was laid up in Australia when her horse broke down under her. I had to be certain her death was not on McKenna’s head.”
Cat’s breath caught in her throat. “Pegeen…she was a jockey?”
He nodded. “My influence, I fear. And when she met McKenna, she lost all sense of care for her own safety. She was so determined to win for him.”
It dawned on Cat. “They had a personal relationship.”
“Indeed, they were in love. McKenna still carries guilt on his shoulders for her death.”
Her stomach knotted at his words and she could only listen in shock.
“I have seen him at work these last days,” Browne went on. “One of the best trainers I’ve ever known. He would never take a chance with someone’s life. ’Twas my sister’s own stubbornness on having the ride despite McKenna’s warning that killed her.”
“There was something wrong with the horse?”
He shook his head. “Consi
dering the short time you have worked together, I guess you would not know everything about your business partner. Aidan McKenna has the sight. He saw the accident to come and did his best to talk Pegeen off the horse. My sister was the down-to-earth one in the family. No sense of whimsy or of anything she couldn’t see or touch. She never even believed talk of fairy creatures when she was a wee lass. McKenna warned her, but she did not believe him.”
As he spoke, Cat went cold inside. Aidan loved another woman. A dead woman. He hadn’t told her about Pegeen. He hadn’t told her about Tim Browne, either. He hadn’t told her that his brother was flying in. He certainly hadn’t told her about having the sight.
Would she have believed him? She might have allowed his claim to having a psychic connection with Mac, but she’d scoffed at the idea of a love curse.
She remembered the end of that conversation with him:
“But no one died.”
“Not that time, because Da avoided the curse.”
What other time was he referring to?
She still wondered about that “other time.” Did Aidan think he’d brought this curse down on Pegeen?
What else hadn’t Aidan told her?
Shaken to her core, Cat backed away. “I’m sorry for your loss,” she whispered, and then fled the scene.
Somehow, she got herself back to the farm in one piece. Aidan wasn’t there, of course. He was at the airport. When had he been planning to tell her about Cashel flying in from Ireland?
Had he ever planned on telling her the woman he loved had died for him?
* * *
AIDAN DROVE HIS BROTHER Tiernan and sister-in-law Ella first to the track, where he gave them a quick tour and got Tiernan to sign his paperwork so that he could be recognized as a trainer for McKenna Racing. Before leaving, he introduced his brother to Nadim and Tim Browne.
After which he drove to a car rental company and then led the way to a chain motel on the main road between the track and town.
Once inside the room, Aidan clasped his brother to him. “Thank you for coming to the rescue, Tiernan. And you, Ella.”
The photographs Tiernan had emailed him didn’t do Ella justice. Half Lakota, she had the best of both worlds in her beautiful face.
“Of course we would do anything to help you,” she said. “After all, Tiernan and I beat the odds to be together. We want to see you happy, as well.”
“After losing Pegeen, I never thought I would be happy again. But being with Cat has given me a new hope for the future. Now I fear losing her, as well.”
“Then why haven’t you told her?” Tiernan asked.
Thinking about how wound up her ex-husband could make Cat, he said, “I don’t think she’s ready for love.”
“You wouldn’t be honest even for her own protection?” Ella asked.
“I told her about Sheelin’s curse. She didn’t believe me.”
“But you did not tell her about your dreams, boyo.”
“She would not believe that, either, Tiernan. Not that it matters. I will not let her fall to the curse. I must protect her, even if it means stealing her away until the murderer is caught.”
He noted the look of understanding that passed between his brother and sister-in-law.
Tiernan said, “Promise you will keep us informed of your whereabouts.”
“Aye. And I will inform you if she agrees to let you oversee the farm while we are gone.”
Though hopefully it would be only a few days, someone had to be in charge, and as far as he was concerned, both Raul and Bernie were suspect. There was no one to be trusted other than his own brother.
His only regret that it wasn’t likely he would see Mac run the stakes race, Aidan left to carry out the second part of his plan. He hoped that Cat would understand, not fight him, but that didn’t seem likely, either.
Then his hope was that she wouldn’t hate him for what he was about to do.
* * *
STILL STUNNED when she arrived back at the farm, Cat stumbled out of the SUV and looked around. No farm truck. No car belonging to Vincent. No police car.
The place looked deserted.
The sound of a horse screaming split the silence. No thought to her own safety, she ran to the barn. The horses were her life. Her responsibility. She wouldn’t let anyone hurt them.
Once inside, she stopped. Snapped on the overhead lights. Looked around for anything out of place. Listened intently for another indication of trouble. Some of the horses were on edge, moving around their stalls, making low sounds of discontent.
One kicked the stall boards.
Another snorted.
A third squealed.
Her senses came alive as she walked down the main aisle, checking her own horses first. Why were they all so upset?
And then she heard another scream—it came from her stallion.
Dangerous Illusion was more than a little anxious. He kicked the stall boards. Squealed. Kicked again. A rumble set through the barn, the other horses responding to his unease.
She stopped outside his stall. “What’s wrong, boy? What has you going?”
His eyes rolled and he threw back his head and banged his hip into the stall wall hard enough to make it shake.
And Cat knew he’d been drugged. She guessed with some kind of opiate that was making him nervous and aggressive.
“What the hell?”
What could she do to bring him down? She didn’t even have a vet now. If he kept up like this, he could break a leg. Or worse. What if his heart gave out?
She had to get help.
Hurrying down the aisle, sensing an invisible threat, she tripped over her own feet when something sharp plunged into her back. She tried to turn, to see the face of her attacker. But before she could do so, her legs gave out and she fell facedown on the barn floor.
Unable to move…
Wondering if she, too, was about to be euthanized.
Chapter Nineteen
Aidan parked the truck at the barn. Getting out, he called, “Cat, are you in there?”
His only response was a snort and squeal from one of the horses.
“Cat?” He stood in the open doorway. “Raul? Bernie?”
No answer. Where was everyone? Cat’s SUV was parked near the house. Perhaps she’d decided to get some rest. Or some food. He crossed to the back door.
The kitchen was empty. Not even the dogs to great him.
“Cat?” he called, then went straight to her bedroom, but she wasn’t there, either.
Now he was trying not to worry. Undoubtedly she was out on the property with the dogs. And maybe with her workers. They could be doing fencing repairs or bringing bales of hay in from storage, for all he knew.
About to take out the truck to search for her, he hesitated, then decided to check her office and the video feeds from the barn before leaving. The barn lights were off, but there was enough daylight for the cameras to pick up images. Wide shots on the two monitors together allowed him to see the whole interior of the stable area.
For some reason, the horses were restless, unusually so.
He searched for the cause, quickly finding the heart of the disturbance that led him straight to Cat’s stallion. He was moving around his stall, lunging, throwing his head, kicking the boards. Totally agitated, but why?
Then he saw it, the bit of yellow on the stall floor.
The camera angle didn’t allow a clear view, but that didn’t stop his pulse from plunging straight into his throat. An arm—that was an arm wearing a yellow pullover like the one he’d seen before, he was certain of it.
Cat’s arm…
Aidan ran from the house and made straight for the barn, praying he wasn’t too late, that the stallion hadn’t stomped her and hurt her or worse. Cat had to be hurt, or why would she be down? What had the horse done to her?
Bursting through the open barn doors, he ran down the center aisle, his gut in knots, his heart pounding.
“Cat!” he yelled as he r
an. “Say something to me!”
Be alive, please!
Reaching the stallion’s stall, Aidan realized Dangerous Illusion had worked himself into a state. The stallion was unnaturally agitated, making Aidan think he was on a drug-induced high. There was no opening the door with him like that, not with Cat lying there directly in his path. The stallion would no doubt charge him to get away, and in the process run over her.
Aidan wished he’d brought Tiernan with him—his brother’s connection with horses was far stronger than his own. There was no helping it. He concentrated on the stallion—his heart rate was too fast, his vision distorted, the inside of his mind frenzied. Hoping he wasn’t too far gone to be reached, Aidan projected calming images of rolling pastures accompanied by soft words.
’Tis all right, lad. Slow down now. Take a breath. Smell the fresh hay. See the beauty of the pasture surrounding you.
His psychic connection might not be as strong as his brother’s, but Aidan could feel the stallion responding to his hypnotic internal voice.
That’s it. Let your mind rest. Take it easy now, lad.
He couldn’t wait any longer to get Cat out of the stall, so he carefully opened the gate.
I’m coming in. Stay where you are. That’s the lad. No one is going to hurt you.
Aidan slipped inside the stall and dropped down next to Cat. He felt for a pulse. She was alive and apparently uninjured. He’d gotten to her in time, before she’d been trampled. Carefully, he scooped her up into his arms. She murmured something and tried to open her eyes.
“’Tis all right, Cat. I have you.” He eased back from the stallion, whose flesh quivered.
That’s the lad. Relax. Let your mind settle and slow.
Cat’s eyes blinked open and, appearing to be shocked, she tried pushing him away. “Don’t.”
“Cat, ’tis Aidan,” he said softly, so as not to agitate the stallion. “You are safe now.”
She stopped pushing, but her expression remained wary, as if she had some reason to distrust him.
“What happened?” she asked.
Once in the aisle, he managed to close the stall gate. “You can’t remember?”
She blinked again and her forehead pulled. “Pain. Sharp. In my back. Then everything went dark.”
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