Games (Timeless Series)

by Loyd, Sandy

“Damn. I hate it when you’re right.”

  “I know.” Davis chuckled. “But be glad I listened. That’s why I got here a little early. I have solid information to lead us to our culprit.”

  Simon’s gaze locked on his face.

  When he didn’t elaborate, Simon’s impatience came out in his voice. “Were you planning on enlightening me? Or are we going to stand out here and freeze while you figure out what to say.”

  Parker smiled smugly. “Patience, my good man. Patience.”

  “That’s not one of my virtues and my head feels like the devil, so don’t push me.”

  His grin widening, Parker clapped Simon on the back. “I think you could use a drink.”

  “I could use one,” Simon grumbled. “It’s cold out here, so why don’t we take this in the stables where it’s a little warmer?”

  “Cheer up! It’s almost over,” Parker said and started walking with Simon in the direction of the stables.

  At Simon’s dirty look, his amusement increased. “Hey, I’m not the one who couldn’t wait for backup. You sure get grouchy when you come up against a snag.”

  “The last snag cost me three months of boredom,” Simon let out with a disgruntled groan.

  “Whose fault was that? You didn’t have to go in with guns blazing. You could’ve waited.”

  “And let them get away?”

  Parker sighed. “Sometimes, Harrington, it’s better to come out alive than to be a dead hero.”

  “Do I look dead?” Simon snapped.

  “No. All I can say is you’ve got one hell of a guardian angel. Twice now, you’ve had a close call. If I were you, I’d pay real close attention next time,” he said, shaking his head, his tone full of warning.

  “I plan on it. But don’t try and tell me you wouldn’t have done the same thing in Pittsburgh. You wanted to shut them down every bit as much as I did. I just happened to be there first.”

  “I should be happy it was you rather than me. You’re a better shot.”

  They neared the stables and walked toward the rear entrance.

  Opening the door, Simon sported a quick grin. “Which is the reason I’m always the one waiting for backup.”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Always complaining.”

  “I think I’m ready for a drink,” Simon said as they both headed toward Miller’s office. “I’m also ready to hear what you have to say.”

  The two men sat around Miller’s desk with drinks in their hands. Before taking a big gulp, Simon said, “So, tell me! Who do you think the culprit is and why?”

  “I’ve been nosing around Bentley’s farm while he’s been in Louisville. Most everyone working there knows me. They all think of me as part of the family, so my questions weren’t out of line. I’ve known the old man for years. He’s like an uncle to me, which is why this is hard to believe, but Bentley’s gotta be involved.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “I accidentally found out about the horse Bentley owned. You know, the one killed?” When Simon nodded, he continued. “He was fast, a hopeful to win the upcoming derby. He was also heavily insured, which I found out at the same time one of the trainers let it slip that the horse was fast as the dickens, but uncontrollable. Plus, he was a mean son of a gun and once they began training him, he just got meaner. By the time he died, everyone who’d worked with him knew there was no way he’d win any race anytime soon.”

  “Hmmm, interesting. But it doesn’t prove he’s our man, and how do we tie him to the rest of what’s been happening?”

  “I don’t know. I hate thinking he’s involved.” He broke off and sighed, remaining silent for a full minute. “However, there’s more. Bentley’s finances aren’t in the best shape. He’s near bankruptcy. I take it the horse’s death helped his bottom line. And his marriage will help. He’s marrying Emma Tyler, who’s well off. If he’s our man, then why all the other stuff? Why sabotage the new venture? Things simply don’t add up.”

  Frank Miller came into the room and both men looked up at the interruption. “Got out as much as we could before the fire spread out of control. Nothing else we can do now. The rest is a total loss.” He poured a stiff drink and moved to sit down in an empty chair.

  Simon nodded. “We’re just going over new information. Parker was telling me about some suspicious activities at Bentley’s farm.” He broke off to organize his thoughts. When he started speaking again, his voice held speculation. “What if some of the incidents were ploys?”

  “Ploys?” asked Parker.

  “Yes, ploys. Caroline said something interesting before she died. Also, another’s words lead me to believe there might be something to it all. Caroline said her plan was to bring me here. Me specifically. Like I was some prize. Bentley knows enough about the US marshals to write a letter, bringing you back here. Did he know we were partners?” Parker nodded. “So, what if Bentley needed Caroline’s help to eliminate the competition? Caroline knew I was here in an official capacity and she told me Bentley was the one who informed her. He makes enough mischief to bring us here, ensuring Caroline’s support. After all, the two responsible for the thoroughbred’s injuries are from this farm.” His attention shifted to Miller. “Caroline had you doctor the records to hide the fact that they were new, knowing they’d be questioned, but not looked at closely. Now it makes sense. All the dots are starting to connect, and you may be on to something, Parker.”

  “When put in such terms, it seems like some kind of twisted game.”

  “It’s a game, all right,” Simon agreed. “But I don’t think it’s as twisted as we think. Greed is at the bottom of it. So, does Bentley have another contender for the derby?”

  Parker shook his head. “No. That’s another area where my theory breaks down. I can see why he had the one horse killed, but not the others.”

  “Might not matter. It’s my guess someone has a horse and he’s doing it for monetary gain. I’m betting Bentley’s our man,” Simon said, taking a long drink.

  “I’m still having a hard time believing he could have anything to do with killing horses. The image truly doesn’t fit the man I know.”

  “Maybe he’s changed,” Simon added quietly. “Men who’re facing bankruptcy do stupid things.”

  “Maybe,” Parker replied softly, but he didn’t seem convinced. He sighed and took a deep drink. “He’s always been an honorable man. I would like to think he’d deal with bankruptcy honorably.”

  “People do change, Parker. All the evidence points to him. We have no choice but to check him out.”

  “Yes, I know. He’s in Louisville until tomorrow, at the Galt House, same as Thorpe. Do we have enough to bring him in?”

  “I’m not sure, but we definitely have enough to question him.”

  “Are you up for a quick ride into Louisville?” Parker asked, concern clearly etched into his features. “If not, I can do it alone.”

  “I’m all right. Just a small headache. No way in hell I’m letting you go without backup. If it is Bentley, he’s already proven he’s dangerous. Besides, the ride will do me good.” He finished the last of his drink and turned to Miller. “Sorry to leave you like this.”

  Miller shrugged. “Like I said earlier, there’s not much to do. Caroline is dead. I don’t know if she has any next of kin. I’ll make sure the local authorities are notified.”

  The three men all stood and Simon shook hands with Miller. “I really appreciate all your help. Thanks again for saving my life.”

  “Hell, makes me feel good to be doing something useful for a change—something that doesn’t turn my stomach.”

  The men walked out of the stables, over to their waiting horses. Before mounting, Simon smiled and said to Miller, “If I were you, I wouldn’t wait too much longer before buying that spread.”

  “No. There’s nothing stopping me now. I might even be able to buy this place. Without the house, the value’s gone down. I hope you catch whoever’s behind all of this.”

  Parker and Simon
rode at a fast clip in the direction of Louisville.

  An hour and a half later, the two headed toward Bentley’s room at the Galt House.

  Their knock was quickly answered when Harold Bentley opened the door, presenting a genuine smile.

  “Parker. Harrington. To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?”

  “Hello, Harold,” Parker said. “This isn’t a social call.”

  “No? Well, come on in and have a seat. Tell me what’s going on.” The two men strolled into the room and over to the two chairs he’d indicated. “Would either of you like a drink?” he asked.

  “No,” Parker said, sitting. “We have a few questions. It shouldn’t take long.”

  Bentley moved to the decanter on the table. “Then, you don’t mind if I have one? By your somber expressions, I have a feeling I’m going to need it.” He filled a glass with amber liquid and made himself comfortable on the sofa across from their chairs. “What’s on your mind?”

  “Tell us about the accident with the thoroughbred on your farm.”

  “Not much to tell.” He swallowed a sip of his drink, then shrugged. “The animal was a cantankerous beast. Died being a cantankerous beast. At first I thought I had a winner in him. Insured him and all.”

  “So, he was insured?” Simon asked.

  Nodding, Bentley offered, “Yeah. It’s no big secret. After working with him for a couple of months, I didn’t think he’d ever amount to much. I wanted to drop the insurance and get rid of him, but I was talked into giving a new trainer a shot. He worked with him for a couple of weeks before the horse died. I never saw much improvement, even though I’d been assured he was coming along.”

  “You had a new trainer?”

  “Yeah, but after the horse died, the guy felt so bad, he found another job.”

  “Who was this trainer?”

  “Isaac Black. He’d been working at the Hillier place for a couple of years.”

  “And you didn’t think to give us this information when you gave your list of suspects to Thorpe?”

  “Why would I? He wasn’t suspect. He came highly recommended and you said to look for someone who was new to the area. He didn’t fit the description, so I didn’t think it was important. Why? What’s this got to do with Black? He’s working at Twin Oaks now, far as I know.” Bentley’s demeanor was inquisitive.

  “So, how much did you insure the horse for?” Davis asked.

  “Originally for $10,000,” Bentley stated.

  Simon’s eyebrows shot up and he offered a soft whistle. “Nice chunk of money for a dead horse, wouldn’t you say?”

  “Exactly what are you implying, young man?” Bentley asked huffily. His back straightened and he leaned forward, color infusing his features.

  “An out-of-control horse conveniently dies and you collect $10,000, an interesting coincidence, especially given you’re near bankruptcy.” Simon’s voice held more than a hint of accusation.

  “I’m going to ignore your remark.” Turning to Davis, Bentley asked, “You think I did that? For money? Hell, son. I thought you knew better. If that’s all you’ve got to go on, I’d say neither of you are doing your job. Now you can both leave. I’m done answering questions.” He stood up, his face red with anger.

  “Harold, sit back down. We’re not saying anything. Just asking some unanswered questions,” Parker said in a placating manner. “Our trail leads to you and Caroline Hillier. It seems Hillier was playing some kind of game to lure Simon back to the area. She knew all about Simon being a marshal. Said you’d given her the information. Also, you’re somewhat responsible for me being here, which in turn brought Simon.” At Bentley’s questioning look, Parker expanded his explanation. “Your letter to Grant, requesting me. You knew we’re partners, Harold. Black is responsible for the death of Hillier’s horse, and Hillier was also involved. Your involvement with her, plus the fact that you gained from your horse’s death, tells me there is some kind of connection, especially when you take into account that Black worked for you.”

  “But I’m not involved with Caroline Hillier in any way, nor did I gain from the horse’s death. The blasted beast almost killed one of my hands. Once that happened, I wanted no part of him. I sold the horse soon after Black started working with him, even though he stayed on my farm and continued working with the horse there. I transferred the insurance, too.” Just then, Bentley broke off. “Oh my God. I can’t believe he’d do something like this.”

  “Who? Can’t believe who would do what?”

  “My fiancé’s son. I trusted him and kept quiet about the transfer and sale, not wanting to let on about the defects of the horse if they could be fixed. But it looks like he wanted it quiet for other reasons.”

  When Bentley spent the next few minutes telling them the name of the individual he thought responsible and why, a feeling of dread streaked through Simon. “Where is his farm?”

  “Halfway between Hillier’s place and Twin Oaks—off the main road about a mile. You can’t miss it. There’s a big gate at the road.”

  “Let’s go!” he said, standing abruptly and pulling Davis along with him. “I’ve got to get back to Twin Oaks as soon as possible.”

  “Why? Don’t you want me to stay here and question Harold a little more? Find out more about this character?”

  “There’s no time. I’ll fill you in on the way.”

  Shaking his head, Davis followed. “I can’t see what your rush is. Now that we know who he is, he’s not going anywhere.”

  “Will you hurry? I think I’ll need backup.”

  “Simon, what are you not telling me?”

  “I don’t know. It’s just a feeling—my gut is telling me something is wrong.”

  “Why didn’t you say so? Let’s go! You can fill me in later.”

  Chapter 26

  “Miss Giselle, Mr. Tyler is waiting in the library for you,” Miles stated after rapping on her bedroom door at two o’clock sharp.

  Giselle walked slowly down the stairs, sighing along the way, not really sure how to approach the subject of her impending engagement without hurting Bradford too much. She’d wrestled with the problem all morning. Opting for a little more time, she decided to procrastinate and not say anything until he brought up the subject. Hopefully he’d understand and leave without feeling too badly, but she didn’t think things would come off so easily.

  When she reached the bottom of the stairs, her hand brushed against her skirt and she felt her small weapons. She swallowed a laugh. Since Simon was now wrapping up his case, she really had no need of the items. About to run upstairs to put them away, she stopped with her foot on the next step. Shrugging, she turned around and kept going. It wasn’t worth taking the time. Her most pressing goal now was to finish meeting with Bradford. Then she could wholeheartedly start planning her wedding.

  He rose off the sofa when she entered the room.

  “Bradford, how nice to see you.” Her smile was genuine as she offered her hand.

  He returned her smile. “It’s nice to see your lovely face too, my dear.”

  “You are too kind. Please be seated. Is there anything I can get you to drink?”

  “No thanks,” Bradford said, shaking his head. “I brought my carriage. I was hoping we could go for a drive because I’d really like to talk to you, but I’d rather it not be here. The sun is out and it’s warm on the face. We won’t be too long.”

  Not really wanting to talk with him in the same room where so many memories of Simon were embedded in her memory, she quickly agreed.

  “Just let me grab my hat, cloak, and gloves.”

  He took her hand and brought it to his lips. “You look beautiful, my dear. You should dress in gowns like this more often.”

  She bit back a smile. He rarely saw her in anything but her riding habits because they spent most of their time riding. “Now that the weather has changed and I am not outside with the horses so much, I do not need to dress for it.”

  He let her hand go and
they both headed toward the door. Bradford was quiet while he helped her with her cloak.

  “When you become my wife, I hope you realize I’d rather you dress more formally,” he said, waiting until she had her hat in place before holding out his arm.

  She placed her hand on the bend in his elbow and said, “I really need to talk to you about that.”

  Bradford smiled. “Not now, my dear. Once we have the seclusion of my carriage, I’ll be all ears.”

  They walked out of the house and down the front steps to his waiting carriage.

  When Giselle spied Fortuna and Hercules tied to the back of the gig, she glanced up at Bradford with questioning eyes. “Why do you have the horses if we are going for a carriage ride?” she asked.

  “Jake thought we’d be going riding, and asked me to exercise them. Since you’re not dressed for riding, they can follow behind.”

  Shrugging, she let him lift her into the carriage. Though the temperature was just above freezing, the sun was high and its warmth felt good to Giselle. She sat back in the seat and relaxed as Bradford clambered in next to her and grabbed the reins. Flicking them with a practiced hand, the conveyance rolled down the lane, the thoroughbreds trotting along behind.

  “I am glad you came by to take me for a ride today.” Despite her dreaded task, being out of doors helped lift her mood. She smiled. “It is a perfect day.”

  Bradford chuckled. “Yes, it is.”

  They rode in companionable silence until he veered off the main path onto a trail just wide enough for the horse and buggy.

  “Where are we going?”

  “Off the road a bit. I prefer privacy when we talk. I don’t want anyone interrupting us.”

  “That is silly. There is no one about.”

  “Maybe.” He shrugged. “We’ll stop up here a ways.”

  “So, how is your mother?” she asked, choosing a safe topic. “How are her wedding plans coming?”

  “Fine. They’ll be getting married in a month.” He didn’t say anything further until he stopped the buggy and set the brake. Then, catching her gaze, he said, “I’d like to make it a double wedding, Giselle. That’s why I brought you out here.”