by Toni Leland
Stunned by her enthusiasm and sincerity, Quaid couldn’t respond right away. She’d completely missed the part about his independence and how much he loved doing what he did, the way he did it. The suffocating constraints of an office just wouldn’t work – even for the advantage of being closer to Ricky.
“I need more time to think about it. I have until Friday to make a decision.” Why am I even thinking this way? “I’m headed for Illinois tomorrow for a new client, so I’ll have plenty of time to think.”
“Illinois? As in Chicago? This have anything to do with Kim’s case?”
Quaid laughed out loud. “Jeez, you women sure do stick together!”
“Well?”
“I’m on a real job for a real client, but I told her I’d do some checking around.”
“Give me a call when you’re headed back. Maybe we can all have dinner.”
Said the spider to the fly.
“Sure thing, Dix. Talk to you later.”
As he walked through his living room, feelings of being in limbo swept over him. He couldn’t seem to make a simple decision that would either improve his life or make him miserable. Dixie’s enthusiasm about the new job unsettled him. Would he be jeopardizing his work with United Equine if he turned down Harriett’s offer? A quick review of the year’s income was in order.
Inside his home office, he tried to ignore the mess. Pulling open the desk file drawer, he shook his head. This should be such a simple decision. The folder marked “UEA” contained payment and expense vouchers for the current year. Another folder marked “Quaid Investigative Services” contained the remainder of the year’s jobs.
Quaid whistled at the total he’d earned from the insurance company work. Much more than he’d expected. More than half his income came from United Equine. He swiveled around in his chair, comparing what Harriett had offered to what he’d earned as an independent contractor. The job in Columbus would be, at best, a lateral move. Nothing gained, but a lot of personal freedom lost. Again, the niggling worry that turning Harriett down would have a negative impact on the balance sheet. Even though he knew he was the best fraud investigator in the state – and highly recognized elsewhere, too – if Harriett were to hire someone else for the Columbus office, she might just assign all the fraud work to that person, leaving Quaid out in the cold.
“Dammit!”
He shoved the file drawer closed, knocking a stack of papers onto the floor. Frustrated beyond belief, he walked over to the window that looked out over his small back yard. A memory of hours spent with Bandit slowly slipped into his fractured thoughts, visions of long rides through the woods, the peacefulness that came over him when he was with that horse. He turned away from the window and surveyed the mess. And what about his meager family? He’d even considered moving to Dayton to ensure that the fragile relationship with his nephew and sister-in-law didn’t disintegrate. Had that also been a kneejerk reaction to the prospect of losing them altogether? If he took this Columbus job, would he again prove to both of them that he was selfish and unreliable? Unable to put family before work? An all too familiar problem that had cost him dearly once before.
Collecting his suitcase and scooping up his laptop, he strode out of the office. Right now, he had a job to do and the six-hour drive to Chicago would give him plenty of time to think.
Chapter 12
Kim stepped onto her deck, shivering slightly at the brisk temperature. The sky was blue and bright, but the clear days wouldn’t last much longer. She glanced down at the parking area where Dixie’s patrol car sat. Must be a day off. Maybe she’d be interested in going to lunch.
Dixie answered immediately. “Hey, Kim, I was just about to come over to see what you’re up to.”
“Bored out of my skull. No work, and trying not to wonder what Quaid is doing in Chicago.”
Dixie chortled. “You should just get in the car and go up there. Help him out.”
“Right. Well, that’s not gonna happen, so do you want to have lunch somewhere?”
“I’m on duty at three, so it’ll have to be somewhere close by.”
Kim thought a minute, then suggested an Irish pub in the next town.
Half an hour later, Kim headed out, thinking about her conversation with Quaid. She hadn’t really given him much to go on. In fact, for him to learn anything significant, he’d have to do some preliminary research on Natalie and her background.
“What’s the matter with me? I should have told him everything I already know.” She wheeled into a parking space at the pub. “Some investigator I am.”
Dixie pulled into the next parking space and, as she climbed out of the patrol car, Kim released a soft breath. Dixie in full uniform looked so different from the best friend in comfy sweats and sneakers. Had Kim herself appeared so forbidding when she’d been on the police force? The dark blue uniform had fit her so well, made her feel so... confident... and powerful. She closed her eyes and willed away the thoughts and images of a life gone by.
“Kim, you okay?”
Dixie’s bright blue eyes darkened with concern.
Kim nodded. “Just wandering around in the past again. Let’s eat, I’m starving.”
The cozy atmosphere of the pub was just what Kim needed, plus the company of an understanding and caring friend. At some point, she needed to shake off the malaise and get on with her life. Maybe the case with Quaid would do the trick. If there was a case.
The two women slid into a wooden booth at the back of the room and checked the specials on the blackboard over the bar. A few minutes later, Dixie reached across the table and touched Kim’s hand.
“Okay, so what’s really going on with you?”
Kim told her about calling Quaid and the outcome of that conversation.
Dixie grinned. “Excellent. Sounds like you have a partner.”
“I wouldn’t go that far, but I’m painfully aware of my shortcomings in this.”
“How can you say that? You did a fabulous job with the theft case, and both you and Garrett bring valuable assets to the table. You have a solid background with horses and a police officer’s keen eye for detail. Garrett has the expertise for surveillance and digging up information. You complement each other. I would say that you two are a perfect match as partners.” She winked. “Probably in more ways than one.”
Kim shook her head. “We’re strangers, Dixie. How can you say that?”
“Because he likes you. And I think you like him. And he’s hot – even I think so, and you know where my interests lie.”
Kim tried to derail the track this subject was taking.
“Okay, so say we could work together. I’ve asked him to help me on a case that I don’t even know is a real case. I only gave him a name and an address and a suspicion. I should have done all the research before I got him involved. I feel really stupid.”
“So get your facts together and call him. How hard is that?”
Kim smiled sheepishly. “You’re right, as usual.” She hesitated. “I just worry that...well, that he’ll think–”
“That you like him? So what? You do, don’t you?”
Kim blew out a long breath. “Yeah, I do. I just don’t know what to do about it.”
Quaid checked in to the Chicago Mart Plaza Hotel at three o’clock. As the desk clerk processed the registration information, Quaid surveyed the lobby. Carpeting with giant purple, maroon, and ivory circles covered the floor of the expansive reception area. Modern comfortable lounge areas filled the largest portion of the lobby, carefully arranged into either conversation pits or small private areas. A large fireplace took up part of one wall, and the entrance to the ground floor café was beyond that. His stomach growled.
Nice place to hold a meeting. You’d never have to leave this place to have a good time. He pulled Kenneth Ferguson’s photo out of his pocket and looked at it again. The man’s face was unmemorable and, with the large number of people milling about the place, Quaid wanted to be sure he’d recognize the gu
y.
The clerk pushed the registration form and key card across the counter. “Just sign at the bottom, Mr. Quaid, and you’re all set. Is there anything else I can do for you today?”
Quaid signed with a flourish and pocketed the key card. “Where is the Midwest Investment Counselors conference being held?”
“Oh, are you with that group? There’s a discounted rate.”
“No, I was just hoping to hook up with a buddy of mine who’s going to be here. Say, would you know if he’s checked in yet? Ken Ferguson.”
The clerk checked the computer screen. “He arrived yesterday morning. Would you like me to ring his room?”
“No, that’s fine. I need a shower and a nap. I’ll call him later.”
Quaid smiled, then moved swiftly away from the desk before the clerk could give him any more help. Maybe it hadn’t been such a good idea to ask for Ferguson. Who knew what that clerk might say if he had occasion to talk to the guy.
Walking down the corridor toward the elevators, Quaid found a notice board listing the hotel events. The MICA conference would kick off at 7 p.m. in the Riverview Room. So Ferguson came to Chicago a day early. More time for monkey business? The schedule indicated that conference meetings the following day would all take place in the west wing. It looked as though Quaid would be doing a lot of reading for the next couple of days. He shook his head. Most folks thought private investigators led an exciting life. Little did they know. Sitting for hours in a hotel lobby with a newspaper or magazine wasn’t exactly stimulating, but it was the only way to stay on top of a subject. He groaned inwardly. How did he expect to do any snooping for Kovak? He shouldn’t have been so quick to offer.
Quaid’s tenth floor room smelled of lemon scented air freshener. He flicked on the light and looked around. King bed, television, desk, and two easy chairs near one of the windows. Microwave, fridge stocked with a mini bar. Comfortable and pleasant for an extended stay. Central location, beginning of high season, well over two hundred bucks a night. He shrugged and set his duffel on the bed. Elizabeth Ferguson had given him carte blanche to track her husband’s activities, and being in the same hotel was the best way to do that. Quaid stepped over to the window and opened the drapes, then released a slow whistle at the panoramic view of the city. This sure beat the Sleepy Time Motel in East Armpit, New Jersey.
An hour later, after a shower and a quick nap, Quaid took the elevator to the fifteenth floor hotel bar. Maybe he’d get lucky and locate Ferguson before he disappeared into the privacy of the conference. After scanning the room quickly, Quaid slid into a seat at the curved bar that afforded him a good view of the entrance. It was just barely five o’clock and only a few customers were scattered about the room. Quaid ordered a beer and turned to have a look at the view that had made this place one of the most popular nightspots in town. The skyline was phenomenal, a pattern of angles and colors and heights against a still blue sky. He could only imagine how beautiful it would be once the sun set and the lights came on. A perfect place for a romantic evening.
A couple entered the room, laughing and hugging each other. Quaid watched them choose a secluded seat in the corner. A quick tug of melancholy intruded on his thoughts. He shook it off and took a swallow of beer. A few minutes later, another group entered the bar, then a couple of young women in ultra fashionable clothes. Quaid tracked each face, discarding the images as his brain’s face recognition software processed the data. Then, there he was. Kenneth George Ferguson the Second. Short. Paunchy. Alone.
Chapter 13
Kim’s unsettled frame of mind didn’t improve, even after a relaxing lunch with Dixie. Too many truths to shoulder, too many fears to fight. But Dixie was right. Kim needed to get the details of her case together and call Quaid as soon as possible.
She scowled at the empty spaces on the work board. Go about this methodically. List everything I know about everyone involved. She wrote down the names or job descriptions of everyone at Dream Horse Ballet.
• Natalie Danseur;
• a possible love interest, past or present;
• the man at the race club desk;
• the architect for the theater building;
• the veterinarian;
• Natalie’s barn staff;
• any employees of the race barns?
• Dream Horse performers
• Were there any family members who might have a problem with how Natalie had used her inheritance? All that property must be worth a fortune.
Next, Kim listed the people at Knight’s Horse Theater.
• the elusive owner;
• the groom who’d shown her around;
• the new acrobat, Sophia Barevsky.
There were probably more people at that establishment that she didn’t know about, any one of which might have a history with Natalie. But an issue that would motivate him or her to cause harm to Natalie’s horses and career? Not to mention the reputation of one of Chicago’s premier attractions?
Kim’s shoulders sagged. The list was long and, although she could do some digging on the Internet, the person who could turn up the real information didn’t have all the names. She picked up her cell phone and dialed. Quaid’s number went straight to voice mail. She left a request for a call back, then disconnected.
A few minutes later, Quaid called.
“Hey, Kovak, what’s up?”
Music and laughter filled the background, but his voice came through strong and deep. Her recent admission to Dixie tugged her attention away from business and into her personal feelings. Exactly how much did she like Quaid? Enough to open up to it? She bit her lip. Too soon. Stick with “safe.”
She cleared her throat. “I have a list of names you might need if you get a chance to snoop around.”
“I’m not sure when I can do it. This case might be a long one, but send the list to my e-mail and I’ll have a look at it tonight when I get back to my room.” More loud laughter rang out in the background noise. “Hey, I have to go. I’ll call ya.”
Kim stared at the dark screen, unsure whether to be annoyed or relieved. It certainly sounded like he was having a good time working on his case. Her uncertainty disappeared in a flash. Why did she think she needed to wait for him? She would send the list, then start doing some digging on her own. If she hadn’t heard back from him by the next night, she’d head up to Chicago herself.
She picked up the phone again.
“Natalie, I have a couple of questions about your situation. Is this a good time?”
“Yes, what do you want to know?”
“How many people have access to your barn on a regular basis?”
“I have three barn helpers. They’ve been with me for years and they would never—”
“I know,” interrupted Kim. “And I’m not accusing anybody. I just need a list of the names of anyone who might have been in your barn in the past couple of months. Do many visitors come to see the performing horses? Do horse racing fans ever come into your barn?”
“My barn is not open to the public. On race days, the doors are locked.”
Kim drew a quick, involuntary breath. “Isn’t that dangerous? I mean, in case of fire?”
“Only the front entrance is locked. The back door is open. But I don’t see how your question makes sense. Why would a random racing fan do this?”
“Anything is possible, Natalie.”
As Natalie talked, Kim wrote down the names of the people that frequented the barn. It seemed unlikely to Kim that Natalie’s own staff would sabotage her, but Kim couldn’t discount anyone.
“Do you have security cameras in the barn?”
A soft sigh filtered through the phone. “No, not inside, but there are some on the outside corners of the building, and the race barn across the way has outdoor surveillance, as well.”
Kim shook her head. Why wouldn’t valuable horses be kept under the watchful eye of an indoor camera?
“I’d like to look at the surveillance tapes
for the past three months, if that’s possible.”
“Where should I mail them?”
“Just hang on to them. I should be up there in a day or two. In the meantime, how are your horses doing?”
“Most of them are responding well to the antibiotics, but a couple are still quite sick and extremely contagious. I was forced to move them over to the quarantine building.” Her voice caught. “I just can’t believe all my hard work and dreams have gone down the drain.”
Kim didn’t know what to say. There simply wasn’t anything she could say that would change the situation or make Natalie feel better.
“I’ll give you a call when I get back to Chicago, but if you think of anyone else that might have been in your barn during that time period, please call me.”
After saying goodbye, Kim sat deep in thought for a moment, then booted her computer. Adding the new names to her list, she composed an e-mail to Quaid and hit send. Thoughts of seeing him again sent a small ripple through the pit of her stomach. There was nothing “safe” about Garrett Quaid.
She picked up the phone again and left a voice message.
“Hello, this is Kim Kovak. I’m coming to ride Bandit in the morning, so please keep him in. Thanks.”
Quaid felt guilty about cutting Kovak off so quickly, but while they talked, he’d been watching the door and his attention had snapped to a lone woman who’d come into the room. She’d glanced around, seeming unsure of herself, and something in Quaid’s radar came on. He turned in his chair and held up his phone, pretending to take a photo of the view through the window, but actually zooming in on her face. She was in her late thirties, fairly attractive in a wholesome, natural way. Not much makeup, medium length brown hair in a simple style, business attire. He turned back to his beer, watching her from the corner of his eye as she walked toward Ferguson’s table.
The old goat jumped up and hugged her, then waited while she sat down. Quaid surreptitiously took three more pictures, watching the two of them lean over the table, deep in earnest conversation. Ferguson took her hands in his and she smiled, an expression that changed her plain features to those of a loved woman. Quaid turned away. Who was Ferguson kidding? His lady friend was at least forty years younger than he. Could he even get it up anymore? Quaid polished off the last of his beer and paid the bartender. Time to move to a different vantage point, one that might allow him to catch the lovers in an undeniably compromising photograph.
