by Loyd, Sandy
When the last gentleman, a foreman who’d been hired to supervise the building of the grandstand, finished with his account of the various problems he encountered, the room quieted.
Minutes later, Colin Thorpe’s rich voice interrupted the silence. “Someone wants to delay the progress of all aspects of our venture. Why? When we figure out the motive, maybe we can solve the puzzle. Gentlemen, and Mrs. Hillier, we need to attack the problem logically. Since we all have a stake, it would behoove us to work together. I’d like each of you to make a list. Include those who would benefit from such a delay and anyone against this undertaking from the beginning. Maybe something will pop out at us.”
“Do you think it could be someone we know?” This question came from Benjamin Edwards, a breeder who owned a stud farm between Frankfort and Lexington.
“We can’t rule it out.” Colin slowly glanced from one individual to the next, making eye contact until his gaze had made a full circle around the table. “Hell, for all I know it could be someone in this room.”
Harold Bentley jumped up and said loudly, “That’s an outrageous idea, Thorpe. We all have a vested interest in this venture succeeding.”
“Bentley’s right,” Albert Jeffers, another breeder, agreed. “We don’t need you to throw out doubt and pit us against one another.”
Voices erupted in anger after Jeffers spoke, all agreeing with him.
“I meant no insult.” Colin held up a hand to silence them. “I was just pointing out the obvious. This is becoming more serious by the day. The horses’ injuries and deaths aren’t any more coincidental than the other incidents. I’ll need information on them as well. I believe they are tied to the delays and everything is linked to the upcoming derby in some way. We just need to find the connection. The type of information I’m looking for relates to the animals’ care. Who had access? What was going on when the incidents occurred? Question everything. I know accidents can happen. Horses die every day, but this is all too pat to be attributed to accident or to fate. And lastly, for you breeders. Talk with your managers. Question anyone who seems suspicious. If you’ve hired anyone in the past couple of months, I want to know about it. We need to check out any lead, no matter how small.”
Edwards’s voice rose above the din of shouts that had erupted. “You’re off target, Thorpe. I have a hard time believing anyone I know would kill one of my beautiful thoroughbreds, and asking me to believe it could be someone in this room is expecting too much.”
Since it was well-known the man treated his beautiful thoroughbreds callously, a look of annoyance passed over Colin’s face before he spoke. “I don’t think so either, Edwards. But we can’t ignore the possibility, nor can we ignore these incidents.”
Someone shouted, “What are we going to do in the meantime? How can we protect ourselves?”
“Yes, Colin. What do you recommend we do? I can’t afford to lose another thoroughbred before I sell my place.” This comment came from the lone woman sitting among the group. Caroline Hillier, a widowed breeder, was in the process of selling the stud farm her dead husband left her.
Colin shrugged. “Increase our vigilance. We can post a guard at the work site. Have the workers there keep their eyes open. If the workmen are watching for more trouble, it’s much more difficult for someone to get away with mayhem. Our thoroughbreds are also at risk. As Mrs. Hillier said, they are too valuable and can’t easily be replaced. I’m not taking any chances. I plan on having someone guarding my stock at all times.” He stopped talking while meeting several glances around the table, including Caroline’s, before continuing. “You other breeders should do the same.”
The men were silent as Colin stood. “Gentlemen, get me your lists and comments as soon as possible. I’ll be in town for the next week. The sooner we get valid information, the sooner we can unravel this mystery.”
While he walked out of the room everyone started yelling at once, each giving an opinion on what to do and who could be responsible.
Simon sat in the midst of the comments, silently taking in what was being said. When talk died down, he too got up and left the room.
Another person at the table also remained mute, watching first Thorpe, then Simon Harrington leave the room, and thinking, “Trusting fools, all of them. Everything was going according to plan. Nothing could stop the momentum now that the game board was set. Their anticipated vigilance would make no difference, mainly because it had been anticipated. Things were definitely becoming more interesting. Even with Thorpe’s warning, these simpletons would never figure it out. Despite extra eyes and ears paying closer attention, no one would ever suspect the wolf in sheep’s clothing among the lambs.
~~
“That was a clever ploy, throwing out the bit about suspecting someone in the room,” Simon said, chuckling. He and Colin were seated in the hotel barroom, in deep discussion about all that had transpired.
“I’m not totally convinced it is someone we know. But there were several present who weren’t too disturbed by the news. Did you happen to notice their responses?”
“Yes. Was everyone who had losses at the meeting? We can probably rule out those breeders, but I’ll still want to talk to them individually.”
“Good idea. I was surprised to see Caroline Hillier at the meeting, despite having lost a horse.”
Simon glanced at Colin with raised eyebrows. “Why wouldn’t she attend? She should be interested in what’s going on.”
Colin’s face took on a distasteful look. “I’m wondering how interested she really is.”
“Oh?” Simon asked as a waiter came up to them and place two glasses of bourbon on the table, one in front of each man.
Colin was silent until the waiter was out of earshot. “Actually, Hillier Meadows was her husband’s place before he died. It’s always had a good reputation. Now it’s Caroline’s. She hasn’t shown much interest in her farm until she began the process of selling.”
“Still, I would think all of this affects her, even though she’s selling.”
Colin snorted. “You’d think so, but the woman isn’t concerned about what happens to her horseflesh. She’s more interested in riding men than horses.”
“She sounds charming.” Simon chuckled, meeting Colin’s eyes before taking a drink of bourbon. He shook his head and his grin stayed in place. “I have no problems being ridden by a beautiful widow.”
Colin’s bark of laughter rang throughout the bar. “I’d wear spurs with her, Harrington, if you’re truly interested.”
“I’ll keep your warning in mind.” Simon’s smile faded from his eyes as his mind shifted gears to the problem at hand. “And hold off on all riding until I’ve assessed the situation for myself. Since she’s incurred a loss I want to talk to her.” Simon was silent, going over his list, before he spoke again. “I’m left with ten men as possible suspects.”
“I can vouch for Clark and Gibbons,” Colin said. “Both are good friends. I see no motive. I personally know neither has money problems. So that lowers your list to eight.”
His eyebrows shot up. “Fine. I’ll cross them off temporarily. That’ll make my job a little easier. I’ll start with bank records.”
Colin nodded, taking a sip of his drink. “Greed has to be behind this. But damn, it makes no sense. What possible motive would anyone in the room have in delaying the building?”
“God only knows.” Simon offered a negligent shrug. “I’ve seen some pretty heinous crimes committed by people who have no interest in money. Greed is a strong motivator, but in these crimes, greed wasn’t even on the list as to the reasons why. How long do you think it will take them to come up with information?”
“A couple of days at most.”
“Good. I’ll have plenty of time to investigate those farms where the horses were injured or ended up dead. I’ll start with the Hillier farm.”
“In the meantime, what would you like me to do?” Thorpe asked, leaning forward.
“Nothing. Bow out
of it. Parker Davis, my partner, and I can handle things from here on out.”
“Look, Harrington, there’s no way I’m staying out of it.” Impatience sounded in his voice. “This has hit too close to home and has become personal. I can be of help. Just let me know what you need.”
Simon quietly observed his determined expression and contemplated his words. “All right. I can use an extra pair of eyes and ears. Keep both open. Talk with the workers…see if anyone remembers anything suspicious. They’ll be more forthcoming with you than me. But don’t act on anything until you’ve talked to me. Are we clear?”
Colin nodded. “Yes. We’re clear.”
“Parker’s checking out other leads as to motive. He’ll be staying with Bentley once he’s in the area at the end of the week. We’re meeting in Frankfort. Since you’re determined to help, you can join us if you’d like.”
“No, it’s best if I remain right here until this gets resolved. With Gus at the farm, I have no worries in that respect, especially now that you’ll be staying there. I have a couple of men watching. I’m not taking the horses’ deaths lightly. Word is, they were all hopefuls in the upcoming derby. Don’t know for sure, because there are still several races to be run to qualify, and we won’t know for a couple more months which horses those are.”
“Then let’s go over all the pertinent facts to make sure I have them all. Later I’ll compare them to what I already have and look for connections. If the information rolls around in my head, maybe over time something will become more clear.”
Colin nodded. “First, we have someone sabotaging the railroad tracks. That, by itself, is a huge undertaking. Next, we have the building delays.” He stopped speaking and looked over at Simon. When Simon met his look with raised eyebrows, Colin added, “I was just thinking. Whoever is involved has to have some kind of connection to that room. In order to wreak the kind of havoc these incidents have caused, he has to have a working knowledge of what’s going on—schedules and such. Every incident has been highly effective in creating delay. That takes planning and detailed information. There are too many different businesses involved to be effective without being close to the source.”
“Yes, but someone from the outside can get those details if he has an individual or individuals on the inside working.”
Thorpe sighed. “Let’s assume there is at least one inside person not in the room. If he’s not from the room, he can’t have information on all of the different aspects of the case. There has to be two or three working from the inside.”
“That’s a more likely scenario,” Simon agreed. “I think several individuals are responsible, even if one is tied with the room. What else have we got?”
The two spent the next forty-five minutes reviewing each incident, noting the damage and length of delay. After discussing the episodes with the horses, Simon finished his drink and set the empty glass back on the table.
“I’ll be leaving for Twin Oaks, is it?” He glanced up. At Colin’s nod, he continued. “First thing in the morning. I’ll check out the Hillier farm since it’s on the way.”
“Tonight I’ll write explicit instructions in a missive to give to Gus, my manager. He’s in charge in my absence and will make sure you’re comfortable in my home. If you need anything, just ask him. I’m not certain yet when Libby and I will be returning.”
“Shall we meet this coming Wednesday to compare notes? I’ll take the morning train. Hopefully by then we’ll have something more than conjecture to go on.” Simon pushed away from the table and stood.
Rising, Colin stuck out his hand. “That sounds agreeable.”
Simon grasped his outstretched hand and grinned. “Well, I’ll take my leave,” he said. “I’m sure you have other more pressing issues for the rest of the evening besides this case, especially since you have such a beautiful wife waiting for you.”
“I do and I intend to make full use of my time,” Colin stated, giving him a challenging stare.
Simon just shook his head and laughed at Colin’s jealous stance, having a good idea of what caused such foolish actions in his married male acquaintances. Thankfully he wasn’t one of them.
~~
Back in his hotel room some three hours later, Simon felt a little disappointed. His time had yielded nothing solid. After meeting with the bank president, it was obvious—at least according to the bank records—none of the eight on his list had a monetary motive. All eight were wealthy and the information Simon reviewed only verified this fact. With no other leads, Simon had wiped out greed as the main motivator in this case.
He paced the room, reflecting on all he had learned from the time he’d disembarked from the train, wondering what he was missing. The many facets to this case bothered him. Nothing fit.
Whoever was behind this had covered his tracks well.
He was at a loss to speculate further unless Parker Davis came up with a new lead.
Simon climbed into bed and wrapped an arm behind his head. He closed his eyes, letting the information swirl inside his brain, hoping that when he slept his subconscious would come up with a pattern.
As puzzling as it was, the case intrigued him as nothing had in a long while. He was definitely working against a worthy adversary. Most criminals in his experience weren’t as devious or as calculating and made stupid mistakes pointing in their direction. When that time came, he and Parker would be ready.
Chapter 8
Up early the next morning, Simon met briefly with Colin Thorpe, who’d provided him with a mount as well as a missive to Gus, explaining his arrival at Twin Oaks.
Simon’s first stop, Hillier Meadows, was located on the outskirts of Louisville, Kentucky, not too far off the main road, the same one leading to Shelbyville. He’d spoken with Caroline Hillier the evening before, informing her of his visit, and had been surprised to learn she knew he was a US marshal. When he questioned her, she told him that Bentley had enlightened her of his status.
While riding, his thoughts remained on the woman Thorpe described. He obviously didn’t care for her.
Simon had no feelings about Caroline one way or the other. Even though the two met during his last trip, he barely remembered their introduction. He’d definitely noticed her yesterday. The widow was one beautiful woman. Maybe she could provide a pleasant diversion.
Eventually he turned off the main road. Minutes later the house came into view, along with outbuildings. Simon glanced around while dismounting, noting the inactivity. He wondered if it was always this quiet for a bustling stud farm.
The door of the house opened just as Simon walked briskly up the steps.
Caroline Hillier, looking very fetching all done up in a stunning green gown, stepped out.
“It’s nice to know someone is taking our threats seriously.” Her gaze took a small trip over his body as a provocative smile lit her face. She offered her hand. “Won’t you come in, Mr. Harrington?”
Simon took her outstretched hand and brought it to his lips, finally releasing it a moment later. With genuine male interest, he let his gaze wander the same journey over her ripe figure. When his focus landed back at her eyes, his grin widened. “Please, call me Simon.”
Caroline gave a sultry laugh. “Only if you call me Caroline.”
“Then, Caroline it is.”
She nodded, indicating for him to go ahead of her, which he did. While waiting for her to close the door, he took in the expensive furnishings. Obviously not in dire financial straits, Simon thought as he handed Caroline his hat, coat, and gloves.
She passed the items to a waiting servant and said, her tone curt, “Tell Peters I’ll be expecting coffee and tea along with something like scones in the library.”
“Yes, ma’am.” The servant bowed. “Right away.”
Caroline’s brusque manner caught Simon off guard, but she presented a totally different picture when she turned back around and indicated for him to follow her.
“I think we’ll be more comfortable in
here.”
Simon quickly dismissed her behavior, staying right behind her as they entered the library. Glancing furtively about, he noted the very inviting space. The fireplace was ablaze and the warmth took the chill out of the air. Like the foyer, the room was extravagantly furnished. Caroline led Simon to a seating arrangement consisting of two chairs and a sofa situated directly in front of the fireplace but a few feet back. He chose one of the chairs and she sat on the sofa.
Not long after there was a discreet knock.
“About time. Try not to drop it for once,” she said to the servant who entered, carrying a tray filled with a teapot, coffeepot, cups, saucers, and assorted baked goods.
He walked over and placed the tray on the tea cart next to Caroline.
“That will be all, Peters.” Her dismissal was just as curt as the other words had been.
He bowed and left the room.
She looked to Simon with brows lifted. “What would you like to drink—coffee or tea? Or would you rather have something stronger?”
“Coffee would be fine,” Simon murmured. “Thank you.”
She poured a cup, handed it to him, then poured one for herself. She sat back on the sofa, regarding Simon with a sly smile, reminding him of a sleek, predatory feline, a feminine one at that. But Simon shrugged this off and took a drink of coffee, meeting her gaze while she sipped. He was used to women on the prowl. Sometimes their antics proved a bit amusing, provided the entertainment was uncomplicated. The thought of seeing how far she would go if he decided to wander in that direction was uppermost on his mind. However, looking at her now, uncomplicated didn’t seem to describe her.
When her thoughtful gaze turned from speculative to knowing, a feeling of apprehension rolled over him.
Ignoring it, he said, “Shall we get right to business?”
“Of course,” Caroline replied with a wicked grin. “As I always say, business before pleasure.”
