Unfinished Business: Kovak & Quaid Horse Mystery Series (Kovak & Quaid Horse Mysteries Book 3)

by Toni Leland

  “Don’t newborns get some inoculations?”

  Garrett glanced over and nodded. Kim remained silent, images swirling through her head of the tiny, perfect foal lying so still and cold. Would someone really kill a newborn on purpose? Weren’t breeders and horse lovers passionate about their stock and the investment they’d made in their breeding programs? Why wouldn’t Wheeler be devastated by the loss? Instead, she’d seemed unmoved by the foal’s death.

  Kim turned quickly toward Garrett. “What if that colt wasn’t up to Wheeler’s standards? What if the breeding didn’t produce what she was looking for? Would she actually just dispose of the animal?”

  “For a tidy insurance payoff, why not?”

  The enormity of the idea was more than Kim could absorb. She turned and looked back at the magnificent horse farm. How many animals had died to support Vivica Wheeler’s ego?

  “You said she had more than one death claim.”

  “Eight in ten years, seven of them for foals.”

  An involuntary shudder ran across Kim’s shoulders. “That’s a lot, but not enough to be more than a drop in the bucket for the cost of maintaining an operation like hers. She must have money from somewhere else, maybe an inheritance.”

  Garrett grinned. “There you go again, moving past the focus point.”

  “But sometimes knowing other things about someone can help understand the current problem.”

  “I know, but the only thing we care about here is whether she’s been defrauding United Equine.”

  Kim turned her head away and gazed out the window at the landscape. Maybe that’s all you care about, but I see a bigger picture.

  ~ ~

  Quaid mentally kicked himself for teasing Kim. He’d meant it as an off-hand comment, but her body language showed her irritation. Remembering their last similar conversation in Chicago, he realized that even though she’d acknowledged the pitfalls of getting personally involved with the individuals of an investigation, she was who she was – a caring person who wanted to know why someone did what they did. Just catching them wasn’t enough.

  He cleared his throat. “It’s okay. I want to know more about her, too.”

  Kim’s smile sent a ripple through his chest. He’d missed her company the past couple of months, especially at Christmas. A couple of times, when he’d been on the road back and forth between Columbus and Chagrin Falls, he’d thought how nice it would be to spend some personal time with her, something unrelated to work. Just the two of them enjoying the ambience of the winter holidays together. Why had he let those feelings fade, continued his boring existence without taking a step to change it? He couldn’t go on letting one bad experience color his life, or future happiness. Maybe the black horse in Kim’s barn would be his solution.

  He took his foot off the accelerator as they entered the city limits of Decatur, Indiana.

  “We’re going to stop by the veterinary clinic and pick up the death exam on that foal. I kinda had the feeling on the phone that the vet knew something he wasn’t telling, but the paperwork should give me some answers.”

  “You mean, maybe the vet had something to do with the death? Wouldn’t that be risky to his career? I mean, jeez, he’d stand to lose his license if he were caught doing anything illegal or unethical.”

  “You’re right, but it’s not that unusual. A Standardbred racing vet in New Jersey went to jail for selling anabolic steroids to trainers. A Canadian vet was convicted of trafficking in Clenbuterol, a drug used illegally to increase the muscle-to-body-fat ratio in livestock. Heck, even one of Queen Elizabeth’s veterinarians was fired for doping one of the royal horses. Big money really beckons to some people. Greed is a terrible thing.”

  Kim shook her head slowly. “I can see that.”

  Quaid pulled into a small parking lot outside the Morris Veterinary Clinic. “I’ll be right back.”

  A minute later, a fresh faced young woman looked up from the reception desk and smiled. “May I help you?”

  “I’m Garrett Quaid from United Equine Assurance.”

  “Oh, yes. I have the report you wanted.” She swung around in her chair and grabbed a manila envelope from the counter. Checking the name on the front, she handed it over. “Dr. Morris said to call him if you have any questions.”

  Quaid grinned. “You can count on it.”

  Back in the truck, he buckled his seat belt, then opened the envelope. Two sheets of paper comprised the death report in its entirety. He quickly scanned the information, looking for anything that might indicate foul play. His shoulders sagged a bit. The death was unremarkable, according to the veterinarian.

  Shaking his head, he handed it to Kim. “Here, you read this. I don’t see anything that sets off alarms.”

  Quaid put the truck in reverse. “The company will order a necropsy as a matter of policy on any death. But I can’t give them anything definite except my gut feeling about this woman.”

  “Sometimes you just gotta go with the gut.”

  “Spoken like a true cop.”

  Kim’s smile sparked another quiver in his chest.

  She sat back and began to read, then dropped the paper in her lap. “Why do you suppose Wheeler’s horse farm is all the way out here when she lives in Ohio?”

  “What?”

  Kim pointed at the paper. “Vivica Wheeler lives in Coleville, Ohio.”

  “Where’s that?”

  “At least two hours from Portland.”

  Chapter 12

  Kim’s phone chimed. Gazing at the text message, she exhaled slowly.

  “The California show is canceled. They’re going to get their qualifying points at other shows in the area.”

  Garrett narrowed his eyes. “That’s okay. I think we just figured out what to do with your plane ticket.”

  Kim cocked her head. “I’m not following you.”

  “Change your itinerary to Scottsdale. I’d like some eyes on Miz Wheeler.”

  He chuckled and Kim’s pulse gave a little skip. Much as she hated to admit it, the man was irresistible.

  “I can do that.”

  “I suspect your Egyptian friends can give you some insider information on the Wheeler operation. From what I found on the Internet, she’s quite successful with her horses.”

  “I’ve been wondering about my Egyptian friends and this would be a way to connect with them. I’ll get my ticket changed this afternoon, after I get home. I believe the show starts at the end of next week.”

  “This will be company business, so I’ll issue you a check for the cost of the ticket.”

  “Oh, wow, that’s not necessary, but I’ll take it!”

  They both laughed and Kim settled back in her seat to enjoy the rest of the drive. Her thoughts raced, both at the prospect of talking to the Van Khotens again, and the excitement of another adventure in the world of insurance fraud. Why did people think they could pull some of these stunts and not get caught? Apparently, Vivica Wheeler had been doing just that for quite a while. But wait, we don’t have any proof that a crime has been committed – not for this claim or any of the others. Kim wondered if she was judging the woman unfairly, or at least too quickly.

  But Garrett’s instincts were intense, the main reason he’d been so successful in his investigative career. If he thought Wheeler was up to something, then most likely they would find that to be true. Kim couldn’t allow herself be sucked into feeling sorry for the horse breeder. That compassion had already gotten her into plenty of trouble. The mental image of that poor little frozen foal pushed all pity aside.

  Garrett’s voice intruded. “Let’s stop in the next town and get a sandwich. I’m starving.”

  “Me too. What is the next town?”

  “I think it’s Celina, near Grand Lake. Surely something will be open.”

  A few minutes later, the outskirts of town appeared and a sign announced that Celina, Ohio was “One of the 100 Best Small Towns.” A strip mall loomed on the right and Garrett pulled into the p
arking lot in front of a little delicatessen.

  “We can take our sandwiches down by the lake and have a winter picnic.”

  Kim grinned, remembering the last winter picnic they’d had while stranded in a snowed-in motel with no power. Her face warmed at some of the other memories of those days that came to mind.

  Half an hour later, they climbed out of the car and walked across the parking lot of one of the public accesses to the lake. Fishermen, huddling over holes in the ice, dotted the huge expanse of white that covered the largest lake in Ohio.

  Kim shivered. “I’ve never understood the desire to sit out in frigid temperatures, waiting for a fish to bite.”

  “Fishermen are a special breed,” said Garrett, scooping snow off a bench. “My brother loved to fish.”

  Kim’s chest caved a little. Garrett had never really talked about the brother he’d lost in Afghanistan. As with many things in Garrett’s past, he didn’t share. Was he ready to open up now? Should she nudge a little to see? No, keep your mouth shut and wait for him to make the first move.

  Garrett handed her a turkey club sandwich, then unwrapped his meatball sub and took a bite. Gazing across the frozen lake, he chewed thoughtfully. Then he looked over at her.

  “Remember those photos you looked at for me? The ones from the breeder playing registration games? Those cases went to court and the buyers won. The breeder had to reimburse everyone for the cost of the horses purchased, plus all the upkeep and veterinary bills, plus all the court costs.” He grinned. “I know you like to find out how cases end. This was a win.”

  “Good, but you know, the only reason I was able to verify that those photographs had been manipulated was because amateurs made the Photoshop changes. If a professional had done it, I probably couldn’t have found the evidence.”

  “What did you look for, anyway?”

  “You blow up the image to about 300 or 400 percent, then examine outlines and details. The most common way to change something with that program is through the cloning tool. But it reproduces each pixel exactly and you get a repetitive pattern. At normal viewing size of one hundred percent, the changes aren’t usually visible to the naked eye. A professional can use other tools to mask the evidence of change.”

  Garrett shook his head. “All Greek to me, but the important thing is we got ’em.”

  Kim thought for a moment. “The DNA test is what caught them, right?”

  “Yeah, DNA doesn’t lie. When the new owners tried to register those foals, they found out the animals were born of different parents than stated on the paperwork. And of course United Equine won’t insure without proof of parentage.” He waved a hand. “Oh, they’ll insure, but not for big bucks on an unproven pedigree.”

  Kim stared at her sandwich for a second. “Garrett, could that be what’s going on with Vivica Wheeler? What if she’s killing grade horses, but sending in the DNA from a valuable horse in order to get larger insurance coverage?”

  Garrett sat up abruptly, his eyes wide. “Wow, you have a mind like a steel trap!” Then he shook his head. “Sounds good, but it would only work if Wheeler could somehow substitute the mane or tail hair pulled from the valuable insured horse for the hair taken by the insurance investigator. It would sure be a great scam if it could be pulled off.”

  He pulled out his phone and punched a button. “This is Garrett Quaid in the Columbus office. I need a necropsy ASAP.” He waited a moment, his brows furrowing across his forehead. “Yes. Wheeler Arabians in Portland, Indiana.” Another long pause. “Call me back when you get confirmation.”

  Slipping the phone back into his pocket, he threw Kim a quick smile. “Well, partner, shall we head for home?”

  As they walked across the parking lot toward the car, Garrett’s phone rang. He listened, nodding, then said goodbye and hung up.

  “Someone will pick up the body today.”

  “Who’ll do the necropsy?”

  “One of the company’s certified vets, probably from Fort Wayne. Guess I’d better call Vivica.”

  Garrett started the truck, then stood outside talking to the Wheeler woman while Kim settled into her seat, wiggling her toes to warm them up. When Garrett climbed into the truck, he threw her a look.

  “Whew! That is one unhappy lady.”

  “If she hasn’t done anything wrong, then she shouldn’t have anything to worry about.”

  Garrett nodded. “I have one more call to make and we can go.” He dialed and waited. “Dr. Morris? This is Garrett Quaid at United Equine again. We’ll need the blood samples you drew from Vivica Wheeler’s recently deceased foal. A courier will pick them up this afternoon sometime ...yes, thanks very much.”

  He slipped the phone into its dashboard holder. “I might be wrong about him – I don’t think he’s involved in anything shady. But we’ll see.”

  “If the owner is the one responsible for the paperwork, then it’s easy enough to change information. If the vet is responsible for sending in the blood work data, that’s a different story.”

  Garrett grinned. “You’re learning fast.” As he pulled back onto the highway, he cleared his throat. “You going to see Bandit this week?”

  “Of course. Why do you ask?”

  His ruddy cheeks reddened even more. “I’d like to come see this fancy Morgan horse you told me about.”

  Chapter 13

  Kim stepped into her condo and peeled off her jacket. Her brain had been on fire the entire afternoon, churning with scenarios about Garrett’s promise to visit the barn. On the one hand, it was exactly what Kim wanted, but on the other – she had no idea what kind of performance Commander might give. She’d probably better give Brooks a call to let him know about the visit. But first things first.

  Scrunching into the comfy couch cushions, she opened the folder containing her plane ticket and dialed the reservations number. Miss Kitty appeared and planted herself in the middle of everything, purring loudly. Kim stroked her fur while she listened to the recorded options and promotions and music. Her thoughts turned back to Garrett and the comfortable day they’d spent together. He was easy to be around, once she stopped worrying about what he was thinking.

  A ticket agent came on the line and fifteen minutes later, Kim was booked for a trip to Arizona. She immediately dialed Shareen. The phone rang many times before her friend picked up.

  “Oh, Kim, it is wonderful to hear your voice. How are you?”

  “I’m great, and you?”

  “Taking each of the days one at a time, Insha’ Allah.”

  Kim licked her lips. “And where are you?”

  “Kim, I am so sorry not to have called you sooner, but it has been ...difficult. We are now in Arizona.”

  “Permanently? Did you have to leave Cairo?”

  Shareen’s soft voice oozed sadness. “Yes, in early November, because of the rioting. And for the foreseeable future, my homeland is no longer safe.”

  Kim took a deep breath. “Did you bring your horses?”

  A long silence, then the answer on a sigh. “Only the best. We sent the remainder to a cousin in a village north of Aswan. Until we can return home.”

  Kim’s heart ached for her friend’s sadness. Would she ever be able to return to the country of her birth? To the beautiful Arabian horses she’d left behind?

  Shareen’s soft voice came through the phone. “So, my friend, when will you come to see us?”

  “That’s exactly why I’m calling. I will be in Scottsdale next week.”

  “Wonderful! You will stay with us, of course?”

  “I’d love to, thank you so much.”

  After a few more exchanges of details, Kim said goodbye and laid her phone aside, feeling a little guilty. She hadn’t shared that she would be in Scottsdale to spy on another horse show exhibitor.

  Attaching the camera to her computer, she started the download of pictures she’d taken at Wheeler Arabians. She purposely didn’t look at the screen as each image appeared. The sight of the dead baby
horse was simply too sad. Thinking about Vivica’s attitude, Kim wondered again why the woman lived so far from her horse farm. What a pain in the butt to drive all that way any time she wanted to ride, or whatever she did with them. The computer chimed that the download was complete and Kim switched to the Internet browser. What was Coleville, Ohio’s claim to fame that would keep the Wheeler woman there?

  Scrolling through the extensive list of hits about the small town, Kim frowned. According to the Wikipedia entry, Coleville’s population was less than 10,000 and the chief industry was agriculture. What employment could Vivica Wheeler have there that would fund her horse farm? Kim saw nothing in the list of businesses that came even close to generating that amount of income. Or maybe the woman owned one of the businesses. Kim sighed and closed the browser. Garrett was better suited to delve into this kind of stuff.

  Kim switched back to the photo download and took a deep breath as she opened the first image. A knot grew in her stomach as each photograph appeared on the screen. The images of Garrett and Wheeler turning the foal were a little out of focus, but one in particular caught Kim’s eye. She’d zoomed at the same moment the foal was midpoint in the flip, capturing the soft, vulnerable underbelly and the umbilical tag. Her stomach turned and she closed the photo folder.

  Opening her e-mail window, she composed a brief note to Garrett, then attached the zipped file of photographs. The computer beeped, signaling the mail had been sent successfully, and Kim let herself think about Garrett’s promise to visit Commander. Perhaps she’d better prime him about the horse’s personality and background. But if she did that, he might not want the horse. But if she didn’t do that, he would eventually learn that she’d known all along. Games. Always playing games. Why did she feel like she had to protect herself all the time?

  She stared at her hands on the keyboard, studying her short, neat fingernails, the smooth skin, and the bare ring finger on her left hand. Once upon a time, that finger had sparkled with fire and love, a passion that misfortune had stomped on, dousing the emotions, replacing them with fear. She looked away from her hands, her eyelids burning. Peter had been her future, would have been the completion of the circle. But she’d never recognized his insecurity, his fear of her job, and his jealousy of her dedication to a career. He’d always felt like a bystander, and when she’d become disabled, his worst fears had become reality.