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

by Toni Leland

  Dixie nodded. “It certainly appears that she must be independently wealthy to afford all that. What does Garrett think? Has he found a connection between the foal deaths?”

  “Possibly, enough to recommend that the insurance company reopen all the claims.”

  Dixie pursed her lips. “And what do her supposed underground horse deals have to do with it?”

  Kim blinked. “Actually, nothing. It’s just an extra thing I stumbled upon.”

  “And you’re going to leave that alone, right?”

  Kim narrowed her eyes, suddenly irritated with Dixie’s attitude. “Why do you ask?”

  Dixie looked sad. “Haven’t you had enough of that seamy side of the world? It’s gotten you nothing but trouble, cost you a lot of money, and endangered your life more than once. I just don’t want anything to happen to you.”

  This is the person who’s been there for me all through it – accept her caring and be grateful.

  “I know, and I appreciate your concern, really I do.” She smiled. “Enough about me. Now tell me how you and Dana are doing.”

  The look on Dixie’s face sent a dagger of ice through Kim’s chest. Something had happened. Her friend had needed her, and Kim had been too busy with her own stupid melodrama of a life.

  She reached out and grasped Dixie’s hand. “What? Tell me.”

  Dixie met her gaze full on, licked her lips, and let out a soft breath.

  “I’m moving in with Dana.”

  Chapter 40

  “Can I help you, sir?”

  Quaid turned and smiled at the young man with the earnest face.

  “No, I’m just visiting my new horse. Do you work here?”

  “Yes, part-time.” He offered his hand. “My name’s Chance. So you’re taking on this old boy?”

  “Yeah, an old man needs an old man to keep him company.”

  Chance chuckled. “If you need anything, I’ll be around for another hour.”

  “Actually, if you’d show me where the tack room is, I’d like to brush him out a little.”

  Chance led the way down the aisle, and Quaid followed. “So, what do you do the other part-time of your life?”

  “I’m in school and, actually, that takes up more of my life than this job, but if I ever want to graduate, I have to double up on my classes.”

  “What’s your major?”

  “Law enforcement.”

  “Hey, you should meet my friend, Kim Kovak. She’s a retired mounted officer.”

  Chance pulled open the tack room door and grinned. “I already did. She’s Bandit’s mom. Neat lady.”

  Yes, indeed she is.

  A few minutes later, armed with a grooming kit, Quaid walked back toward the stall area. A high-pitched whinny bounced through the rafters and he looked toward the far side of the barn. Bandit’s head hung over the stall door and he weaved back and forth, bobbing his head and banging the door with his front foot.

  “Hey, not so much racket, buddy. Is that how you act when it’s dinnertime?”

  “He never acts like that,” said Chance, coming up behind Quaid. “What’s gotten into him?”

  Quaid walked over and scratched Bandit’s chin, grinning over the silly noises the horse was making. “I think he’s just happy to see me.”

  “He knows you?”

  Quaid gazed into the big brown eye and nodded. “Oh, yeah. We have some history.” He patted Bandit’s neck and stepped back. “You behave now, okay?”

  Chance stepped into Bandit’s stall with the feed bucket and the horse turned his attention to that. Quaid walked across the aisle toward Commander, who was watching the whole thing with interest. As Quaid reached for the stall latch, the horse backed away and, for one moment, Quaid wondered if it was smart to just barge into the animal’s territory. A leather halter hung on a hook by the door and Quaid took it down. Best to do this the proper way and get off on the right foot.

  He opened the door and stepped slowly into the stall. Commander stood quietly and Quaid talked softly as he held up the halter for the horse to see, to let him know what was coming. Commander dropped his head a little. Moving with confidence, Quaid slipped the halter up and over the horse’s ears and buckled it.

  Quaid attached the lead rope, then stroked his hand along the sleek black neck. “C’mon, big boy. Let’s get you cleaned up so I can take a picture.”

  Several hours later, Quaid settled into his favorite chair at home and let out a long sigh. A perfect afternoon. Beautiful horse, decent weather, some personal time to recharge his batteries. He pulled out his phone and scrolled through the photos, stopping at the one he’d taken after Commander’s grooming session. The horse seemed to instinctively know that he was onstage. He’d pricked his ears, lifted his regal head, and assumed a somewhat stretched stance that he must have learned when he was a young show horse. Quaid decided he’d look into the disciplines and breed characteristics for Morgans so he’d know what to expect from his new horse.

  On impulse, he sent the photo to Kim. While he had the e-mail program open, he scanned recent messages, then blinked.

  “Oh, good grief. Now what?”

  ~ ~

  A punch to the solar plexus couldn’t have knocked Kim back any more than what Dixie had just said. As Kim stammered for an appropriate response, fighting the rising fear, her brain processed the apology in Dixie’s gaze. How long has she known? How long has she been planning this?

  “Oh, my gosh, Dix. When?”

  Saskia had gone on high alert, sensing Kim’s agitation, and now he looked from one woman to the other, mostly waiting for his handler to give him some direction.

  Dixie stroked his head, fondled an ear, and murmured, “It’s okay, boy. Go lie down.” She watched him pad across the room to his bed. “By the end of the month.” Lifting her wine glass from the table, she glanced up at Kim. “I thought you’d be happy for me.”

  Kim’s eyes filled with tears, adding humiliation to her agitated state. Grabbing a wad of tissue from her pocket, she blew her nose.

  Her chin quivered as she attempted to smile. “I am, really. I’m just so ...I wasn’t expecting you to ever leave here.”

  Dixie scooted closer on the couch and grasped Kim’s arm. “I’m so sorry. I should have told you sooner. Really, I had no idea you’d be upset.”

  Kim snuffled and blew her nose again. “Sorry. Must be the moon.”

  “You’ve had a lot going on in your life, and I think you’re exhausted. Seems normal to have a release of some kind.”

  Kim stuffed the tissue back into her pocket, then looked directly into Dixie’s eyes. “Are you totally sure about this move? I mean, you haven’t known her for very long.”

  Dixie remained silent for what seemed like an eternity, and Kim wanted to kick herself for making judgments. Who was she to decide if a partner was the right one?

  Dixie’s voice held the strength of her convictions. “Maybe so. But risking our hearts is why we’re alive.”

  Chapter 41

  Quaid pursed his lips as he read the e-mail. Why on earth would Sophia Barevsky be contacting him again?

  Hello Mr. Quaid. I’m sure you remember me from Chicago.

  I am in Columbus tomorrow and would like to meet with you to discuss something of great importance.

  Please let me know when and where we might have this conversation.

  Sincerely, Sophia Barevsky

  Quaid could think of nothing of “great importance” that the two of them would have reason to discuss. The Dream Horse Ballet case was solved and closed and, as far as he knew, Barevsky was still with the performing troupe at the other horse theater in Chicago. However, now that he thought about it, he remembered that Kovak had reacted strongly when she’d seen a photograph of Barevsky and some rich guy at a cocktail party. But she’d never said why.

  He hit “reply” and tapped out a message.

  Ms. Barevsky, of course I remember you.

  I’m quite curious about what you want to
discuss. Come to my offices tomorrow about 4:30.

  He gave the address and phone number, then signed off.

  Five minutes later, his mail alert sounded. Barevsky must have been online, waiting for his response.

  I will be there. Thank you.

  ~ ~

  Kim felt awful the next morning. She hadn’t slept well, tossing and turning, waking up to rehash the conversation with Dixie. She shuffled into the kitchen, meeting Miss Kitty in the hall. Coffee or feed the cat – which was more important? Miss Kitty’s howls made the decision for her. Holding her breath, she scooped out the flaked tuna with gravy and cheese. The gooey, smelly mess looked so disgusting first thing in the morning.

  While the coffee perked, she walked over to the deck doors and peered down at Dixie’s parking spot. Empty. Sadness filled Kim’s heart as she thought about never again having that smiling face and twinkling blue eyes next door, right there any time that Kim needed her.

  “Jeez, there I go again. Thinking just about me. Some friend I am.”

  As she gazed at the crusty, gray snow mounds along the driveway, a flush of shame crept over her. Poor Dixie, she’d been so happy, so sure that Kim would be excited about her news. Or maybe she had known the impact it would have, but hadn’t expected such a selfish response.

  The cat brushed up against Kim’s leg and she looked down. “How can I fix this?”

  It would be impossible to take back the initial reaction, but she could certainly make up for it by having another, more positive conversation with the woman who’d been her rock through all the travails of the past year. Yes, it was imperative to have that conversation as soon as Dixie returned home.

  Kim poured her coffee, then sat down with her phone. A message from Garrett showed up and, a moment later, Kim looked at a photo of Commander, his coat shiny and smooth, head up, ears forward, posed as though he were ready to show for a judge. Kim’s thoughts warmed. The horse would be good for Garrett, maybe as good as Bandit was for her.

  She dialed Dixie’s number.

  As always, Dixie sounded cheerful. “Hiya, what’s up?”

  “What time are you off tomorrow? I’d like to fix dinner for you for a change.”

  “Oh, Kim, that’s really sweet, but I have a back-to-back shift. One of the other K-9 officers had emergency surgery last night. But how about the day after?”

  “You got it. Thanks, Dix. Have a good day and be careful.”

  “We will. Bye, hon.”

  Kim hung up, at first disappointed in the delay for her newly found enthusiasm to right a wrong, but realizing that it at least gave her a chance to compose her thoughts and do a better job when the time came. She sank back into the couch cushions and smiled, wondering what she should wear for her dinner date with Garrett. Something casual, but elegant. Perhaps the black gabardine slacks that fit so well. And the green sweater? No, she’d worn that last time. She rose from the couch and padded into her bedroom to poke through her closet. Clear at the back, she found a deep rust angora sweater with matching cardigan that she hadn’t worn in a long time. Perfect.

  A few minutes later, as she headed back to the kitchen for her second cup of coffee, her phone in the living room dinged an alert about a missed call. Shareen’s number showed on the screen. Kim grabbed her coffee mug and sat down to call her friend back. Most likely, the Van Khotens had some new championships to report.

  Shareen’s voice was ragged with emotion. “Kim! Some of my horses in Egypt have been stolen!”

  Kim sucked in a hard breath. “No! The ones you left with family?”

  A sob broke Shareen’s answer. “Yes, seven of the youngsters. Just gone. I do not know what to do.”

  “Does your cousin have any idea how it happened?”

  “They think Bedouins came during the night. Horses are like gold to the desert nomads, and my horses are so beautiful, they would be a magnet.”

  Kim thought for a moment. How would the desert people even know about the sequestered herd? In Egypt’s vast desert, communication would be mostly by word-of-mouth. She shuddered with a cold chill running over her body. A slip of the tongue by a stable boy would be all it took for the word to get out. Or information sold for a price.

  “Shareen, I’m so sorry. I wish there were something I could do. When did this happen?”

  “We are not sure – maybe right after we left Egypt in December. May I send you photographs? In case they turn up here in the States.”

  Kim shook her head sadly. The chances of those horses turning up on anyone’s radar any time soon would be next to zero.

  “Yes, of course. Send them and I will post the photos on the Internet stolen horses site. Maybe we’ll get lucky.” She thought for a moment. “If the Bedouins took them, would they sell them on an international market?”

  A short silence, then, “Probably not. Those tribes are honorable within their own culture. They do not steal for profit, only for their own needs.”

  “Send me the photos anyway.”

  After she hung up, Kim bit her lip, fighting a surge of nausea. Shareen’s horses were most likely already on the tables of the people who considered horsemeat a delicacy.

  She dressed and fixed some cereal for breakfast. Later today, she’d go through the photos that she’d taken at Scottsdale, then give some thought as to how to make her apologies to Dixie. As she munched through her granola, she again considered Shareen’s plight. Kim would never say as much, but the possibility was strong that someone had told horse thieves about the Van Khotens’ horses. It was too farfetched for those animals to have simply disappeared from a remote farm in the southern part of Egypt, a place where they should have been safe. Someone had helped that happen.

  Chapter 42

  Quaid’s assistant appeared at the door. “Someone here to see you.”

  Quaid glanced at the clock. “Oh, jeez, is it that late? Send her in.”

  He stood up and ran a hand over his hair. As he moved from behind the desk, Sophia Barevsky stepped into the room and he stopped short. Gone were the skimpy attire and heavy eye makeup. The woman standing in front of him was strikingly attractive, her blond hair pulled back into an elegant chignon at the nape of her neck, her makeup applied with an expert hand to play up her high cheekbones and dark eyes. She wore a nicely tailored grey business suit that showed off her shapely figure. The skirt stopped just above the knee, and long legs tapered to slim ankles and fashionable high heels.

  He realized he was gaping, and stepped forward. “Ms. Barevsky. Good to see you again.”

  He held out his hand and she took it, her small hand soft in his.

  “Thank you for meeting me, Mr. Quaid. I’m sure that you were surprised to receive my e-mail.”

  Quaid blinked. Her voice held only a hint of Ukrainian accent.

  “Yes, to be perfectly honest.” He gestured toward a chair. “Please, have a seat.”

  She glided over and settled softly into the chair, then opened her shoulder bag. Something glinted in a shaft of late afternoon sunlight slanting through the window. Quaid stared as she held up a black wallet with a gold badge. From across the desk, he could easily see the words “International Police” and a small photograph of the woman sitting before him.

  “I’m sure you’re confused, Mr. Quaid. I am an agent with Interpol. My work with Knight’s Horse Theater was undercover.”

  Quaid just stared, then stammered, “Wow. Were you investigating the same thing we were?”

  A delightful smile. “Oh, no, that was just a coincidence. I’ve been tracking an international horse thief for a couple of years and, after meeting you and learning of your own investigations, I discovered that you’ve had some dealings with this person, as well.”

  Quaid narrowed his eyes. “And who might that be?”

  “Reginald Fortune.” She tilted her head. “I sent you a photograph just before you left Chicago. That was him.”

  Quaid let out a sharp breath. “When my partner saw that photo, she reacted
a little strangely, but I didn’t have a clue who the man was. Now I know.” He sat back in his chair. “So how can I help you?”

  “We’ve actually arrested Fortune and he’s awaiting trial in London. I’m hoping you and your partner can provide some additional information that will help us make sure that he goes to prison.”

  ~ ~

  Kim pulled into a space in front of Garrett’s office, turned off the ignition, and took a deep breath, trying to quell the butterflies that seemed to arrive in flocks anytime she was about to meet him. Picking a piece of lint off the sleeve of her sweater, she squirmed in the seat. The gabardine slacks that had always been the foundation of her limited wardrobe now bit into her waist and strained uncomfortably across her belly. Had she gained that much weight since the last time she wore them? Better get that under control before I look like the Pillsbury doughboy. She climbed out of the car, tugging the sweater down to cover the bulges. A sharp wind snatched at her hair as she hurried toward the entrance to the building, but the cold felt good against her cheeks.

  Once inside the office, Kim was greeted by a pleasant-faced young woman. “Hello, may I help you?”

  “I’m here to see Garrett Quaid.”

  “He’s with a client. Please have a seat and I’ll let him know you’re here.”

  Kim glanced around the room, noting the bare walls and meager furnishings. No signs of humanity in this place, but possibly they just hadn’t yet found time to decorate.

  Garrett stepped out of his office. “Gail, I’m expecting – oh, there you are.”

  He waved and grinned, and Kim’s stomach jumped with anticipation.

  “Come on into my office. I want you to meet someone.”

  A minute later, Kim stared at the attractive woman who rose from a chair and smiled. Kim glanced at Garrett, noting the flush on his cheeks. Turning her attention to his visitor, Kim realized who it was. What the devil is she doing here?

  Barevsky stepped forward, extending her hand. “I’m so happy to meet you, Miss Kovak.” She threw a coquettish glance at Garrett. “Your partner didn’t tell me how lovely you are.”