Balancing Act: Kovak & Quaid Horse Mystery Series (Kovak & Quaid Horse Mysteries Book 2)

by Toni Leland

  Kim chuckled. “Yeah, the driver said the same thing. But all I could see was that poor creature slamming into that statue. I couldn’t let that happen. But, you haven’t answered my question.”

  Natalie gave her a sly look. “You ever heard about Google’s photo matching gadget? Well, I loaded the photo from the online news article and, Voila! There you were in Ohio, catching horse thieves.”

  Kim had to laugh. This was the first peek she’d had inside Natalie Danseur, the human.

  Natalie continued. “Once I had a name, it was easy to find out other things about you.”

  Kim shuddered. “I know. The Internet is wonderful, but terrifying too. None of us any longer have private lives.”

  “The details I found on the Ohio case were sketchy. What really happened?”

  Kim took a deep breath, not quite sure she wanted to revisit the bad places the case had taken her.

  “I was doing a photo shoot at a horse barn when an out-of-town trainer arrived and informed us that the horse in the stall was not his horse. He ranted and raved, called the law, but quickly filed a claim with the insurance agency that had carried a policy on the horse. It was confusing at first, because the horse in the stall matched the registration photos exactly.” Kim thought for a moment, reconstructing all that had happened in such a short time. “When Garrett Quaid arrived on the scene, it became apparent that some skullduggery was underway and a ringer had replaced the original horse.”

  Natalie whistled low. “Wow, that would make a terrific movie!”

  Kim laughed. “Yeah, but the whole thing would be about the same length as Gone With the Wind!”

  She rose from the chair, pocketing the notebook. “Thanks, Natalie. I’ll be in touch.” Then she had another thought. “Say, do you have any other family? Or significant other?”

  Wariness flickered across Natalie’s features. “I have a half-brother, but he lives in California. I haven’t seen him in years.”

  “Years? You don’t get along?”

  Natalie stepped from behind the desk, her tone cold. “He had a problem with my grandfather’s will, says I screwed him out of his rightful share. As if I had anything to do with the way it was written.”

  “So he might want to get back at you in some way.”

  “He can barely find his way out of his drunken stupor, let alone come here and make trouble for me. No, Miss Kovak, he’d be the last person I’d suspect.”

  Kim took a measured breath, her irritation growing. “You just said you hadn’t seen him in years. How can you make that determination? You have no idea what he might or might not do.”

  Natalie appeared startled by the direct assault. “Well, he was always–”

  “I need his name and address.”

  Chapter 21

  Kim sat in the car for a few minutes, reviewing everything she’d learned from Natalie. The girl had definitely had her share of bad luck and, with what looked like a nonexistent support system of friends and family, it was understandable that she’d lash out at the most logical perpetrator of the crime. And it definitely would be labeled as a crime. Call it vandalism, damaging personal property, animal cruelty, or a malicious attack – infecting those horses with disease would be punishable by the law.

  But Natalie was trying to control the investigation and manipulate who Kim might consider as suspects. Kim did not like that one bit, and it raised a red flag. Exactly what was Natalie hiding?

  With one more glance at the theater building, Kim eased the car away from the curb. Next stop: the Joffrey Ballet Company. Surely someone there would have more inside information on Natalie. After that, Kim would call Quaid to see what he’d learned at the track. As she drove through the neighborhood, she finally gave herself permission to think about Quaid’s impending move to Columbus. Her stomach did a little jig and she shook her head, unsure of what she was actually feeling. Anticipation? Anxiety? Either way, he seemed to have gotten her attention.

  Joffrey Tower was a stunning modern building of glass and steel, commanding the corner of a busy downtown street near Millennium Park. The sign attached to the side of the building rose a full two stories, making it hard to miss. Kim found a parking garage and walked the few blocks, pulling her jacket closer against the sharp wind while planning how she would ask questions about a former dancer. There was a good chance that no one would talk to her, since she wouldn’t be there in an official capacity. As she pushed through the glass doors, she knew she’d simply have to play it by ear.

  The reception area was quite small, manned by a young girl wearing a great deal of eyeliner. Kim approached and asked about Natalie.

  The young woman blinked and lifted her dark eyebrows. “Danseur? I don’t remember her.”

  “She was here ten or eleven years ago. Would it be possible to talk to someone who might have known her?”

  “Let me check.” She punched in some numbers on her console. “The communications director could probably help you. He’s been here a long time.”

  Kim followed her down the hallway, wondering what “a long time” might mean to this slip of a girl who couldn’t be more than nineteen.

  Kim stepped through an office door, and an attractive man of about forty moved from behind a desk, his perfect features framing a charming smile.

  “How can I help you, Miss...?”

  “Kovak. Kim Kovak. I’m a freelance writer and I’m working on a piece about retired ballet dancers. Where they are now, why they retired, things like that.”

  The gorgeous smile widened. “Wonderful! Our dancers are very special, even the ones who are no longer with us.”

  Oh gee, spare me the PR.

  “I’m sure they are. Do you remember Natalie Danseur?”

  The man’s smile collapsed. “Oh my, yes, the poor girl. What a tragedy. She had such a brilliant future.”

  Kim took out her little notebook. “Could you elaborate, give me some background on her?”

  “She came to us when she was twenty, already far ahead of some of the other dancers who’d auditioned around the same time. Nothing was too hard for Natalie and she worked longer hours than any of the other dancers.” He shook his head. “I think she was terrified of failing and having to return to that racing atmosphere that her family ruled.”

  “If she was so good, why did she retire?”

  He looked at Kim with astonishment. “You don’t know?”

  Kim shook her head and kept her mouth shut. She wanted as many different takes on Natalie as possible and she wasn’t going to color anyone’s discourse with what she already knew.

  “Natalie seldom spent any down time, but for some reason, she went with a few friends on a boat outing one weekend. When the boat returned to the marina, somehow she slipped and injured her ankle badly.” He cringed, wrinkling his perfect face. “It was destroyed. No amount of surgery or physical therapy would restore the perfect balance needed to be a pointe dancer.”

  Kim widened her eyes. “Oh, that’s horrible. Now I’m not sure I want to interview her and bring up such a sad history.”

  The man nodded. “I hear you. But I guess her life turned out okay once she healed. Her husband was very supportive.”

  Kim almost dropped her pen. “Husband?”

  “Yes, she married the physical therapist who worked with her after the surgery. I think they got married about a year after Natalie’s accident. I’m sure she’ll tell you all about it when you talk to her.” PR Guy was done with the interview and he stepped back. “Is there anything else you need from me?”

  “No, but thank you so much. You’ve been very helpful.”

  As Kim strode down the hall toward the entrance, her brain was on fire. Why hadn’t Natalie mentioned the husband when questioned about personal relationships? Anger tightened Kim’s chest. Now she was sure that the dancer was keeping something out of the equation. It was time to confront her.

  Halfway to the parking garage, Kim’s phone rang. It was Quaid.

  “He
y, how’d you make out with your interview?”

  “You will not believe what I found out. You available for some lunch?”

  Thirty minutes later, Kim pulled into the parking lot of a diner down the street from her hotel. Quaid’s dark blue truck was already there. She checked her unruly auburn hair in the rearview mirror, then shrugged and climbed out of the car. At some point, she really needed a more modern hairstyle.

  Quaid waved from a corner booth. “Good timing. I was afraid I’d have to order you one of those hotdogs made of unmentionable meat.”

  Kim rolled her eyes, but laughed anyway. “I threatened Bandit with that demise if he didn’t behave himself.”

  Quaid’s eyebrows shot up. “You did have a problem with him, didn’t you?”

  Darn.

  “No, he was just too frisky for my first ride.”

  Quaid narrowed his eyes. “He dumped you, didn’t he?”

  Kim stumbled over her answer, but Quaid held up a hand. “Don’t worry about it. He dumped me too – first time out. Gotta pay close attention when he starts to run.”

  Kim giggled. “That’s an understatement.”

  A waiter arrived and they ordered, then Quaid leaned forward.

  “You said you had big news.”

  “Mainly that Natalie is not playing on the same team we are. She’s withholding information and being downright belligerent about answering questions.”

  “Such as?”

  “Such as a brother who contested their grandfather’s will, but she dismissed the idea of the brother having anything to do with the situation. And she also has a husband! I haven’t confronted her yet about that. Why do I feel as though I’m trespassing every time I talk to her?”

  Quaid pursed his lips, then nodded. “I’ve learned that when people have something to hide, they react more strongly than they normally would. So the key here is to find out what Natalie is hiding, and why.”

  “I’d think the only thing that mattered would be to find the person who attacked her horses and bring them to justice, even if it turns out to be someone related to her. This disaster has cost her thousands of dollars, and the possibility of losing her credibility in the cultural world.”

  “As we dig, we’re bound to connect with someone who has a missing piece. It never fails.”

  Their food arrived and Kim stirred a fork through her salad. “So, what have you found out so far?”

  “Natalie grew up at that racing facility. Her grandfather groomed her to take over at some point, but the old guy that I talked to said that Natalie never had the horse-crazies. She liked them and could handle them, but her heart was somewhere else.”

  Kim smiled wryly. “Yes, she mentioned that her grandmother had the power in that family. Dancing, not horses. Too bad – looks like the horses were going to be her future anyway.”

  “I also found out that she got hurt early in her career, which took her out of the dance scene. Other than that, I didn’t find much else.” He salted his French fries. “Thought I’d go over to Knight’s Theater and see what I could find out there.”

  “Good idea. I met Mark Knight yesterday evening, quite by accident. I was taking photos of the horses in the pasture and he came out to take them in for the night. He invited me to come for a performance and a tour, but I’m afraid someone will remember me from last week.”

  Quaid nodded. “I did find the name of the architect who renovated Natalie’s theater building. His name is Charles Lane. Why did you have him listed?”

  “Something about the way Natalie talked about his work. Just a woman’s feeling, I guess, but now that I have some more pieces, maybe Charles Lane figures in this more prominently. I also need to find the name of the therapist that Natalie married. I don’t even know if Danseur is her married name, or just a stage name. Or if she’s still married, or what. Jeez! I don’t really know anything!”

  “I can probably dig that up for you. I’ll do a search before I head back to my hotel. I’ll call you.”

  “Where are you staying now?”

  “At the Marriott over by the expressway.”

  Kim laughed. “So am I. We can stop meeting at restaurants to compare notes. Say, how did your case work out?”

  Quaid grimaced. “My client was not happy, but she agreed that the ball was in her court now.” He shook his head. “I feel sorry for that poor bastard.”

  “People and their secrets. I guess it keeps you in business, huh?”

  “Yeah, and speaking of that...” An uncertain expression flashed across his face. “What’s our arrangement on this joint case?”

  Kim blinked. “Oh, my gosh, I’m sorry. I meant to tell you that I’d split whatever Natalie ends up paying.”

  “That’s fair.” Then he grinned mischievously. “Do we need a legal contract?”

  Kim grabbed a napkin and pulled out a pen. “You’re durn right we do.” She began writing and Quaid laughed.

  “Hey, I was half kidding.”

  “Nope. We do this right if we do it at all.”

  “You’re the boss, Miz Kovak.”

  Kim smiled. We really are good together – for crime solving, of course.

  A minute later, Quaid signed the napkin without reading it. “How’s Dixie these days?”

  Kim’s shoulders slumped. “You know, I think she’s so lonely. She just works and works, and visits her mother. The dog has helped, I think, but what a life.”

  “Yeah, I never understood why someone as beautiful and interesting as Dixie was unattached.”

  Kim gazed across the table. Poor Quaid. He’d been so smitten with Dixie, and totally embarrassed that he hadn’t picked up on the fact that she was gay. But everything had turned out okay and they were now good friends. But apparently Dixie had never told him about her deceased life partner. Kim’s impulse was to tell him, but it wasn’t her place, so she kept her mouth shut.

  “She’s quite particular. I can only hope that she meets someone to complete her life, if that’s what she wants.”

  Quaid looked pensive. “Yeah, I know what you mean.”

  Kim stood up. “I’m going down to talk to Charles Lane, then see about contacting the other Dream Horse performers. I don’t hold much hope for them, but I need to be thorough.”

  “Give me that brother’s name. I’ll get back to you within the hour with Natalie’s legal name and, with any luck, some leads on the therapist she married. Marriage records are public, so once I have her legal last name, I can probably find the guy.”

  Chapter 22

  Quaid watched Kovak’s car turn onto the street. Interesting woman – so many sides to her. Thinking about the contract on a napkin, he grinned and opened his laptop. If nothing else, Kim Kovak was an entertaining companion.

  The hits for Riverway Park Race Course numbered in the thousands and Quaid paged through quickly, searching for older information that would be of more help than post times and betting information. Eventually, he found a blog article, written about six years earlier, in which the author outlined the detailed history of the racetrack as it related to Thoroughbred racing in Illinois. Sure enough, early in the piece, Quaid found the name of the man who’d purchased the land and opened the track before the turn of the twentieth century – Natalie’s great-grandfather, Randolph Porter. Natalie’s grandfather’s name also appeared a few paragraphs into the piece: George Porter. He had owned and managed the course for over forty years until his death six years ago at the age of 75. Quaid gazed out the window at nothing. If Natalie had inherited the estate, but didn’t want to run the business, who was in charge? Was she an official figurehead or corporate owner, but not involved in the details? Did she have any say in what went on and how the business was managed? Perhaps she had ruffled the feathers of whoever was in charge.

  He frowned. That didn’t make sense, because destroying her career pursuits wouldn’t benefit the racecourse. He scrolled through the pages, skimming the information and finding nothing else of interest. Entering George
Porter’s name in the search box, Quaid unearthed an extensive obituary and, as he read, he began to smile. It was always there, somewhere. George Porter had left behind a wife, a daughter named Sylvia White, and two grandchildren: Natalie White of Chicago and Bobby Sanchez of San Diego, California. Bingo.

  Kovak answered on the second ring. “What did you find out?”

  “Danseur is Natalie’s professional name. Her married name is DeMarco. Husband is Damon DeMarco, works at Sports Therapy Associates in Old Town.”

  “Excellent. I’m just getting ready to visit Charles Lane. I’ll head over to DeMarco’s after that.”

  “I’m on my way to Knight’s Theater. Anything I should know before I start stumbling around in there?”

  “Only that the owner avoided me the first time I visited the theater. I was supposed to have an interview with him. They told me he wasn’t there, but I thought I saw him behind the building as I was leaving. After meeting him face to face, I know it was. Can’t imagine why he didn’t want to talk to me after he agreed to an appointment for the photo shoot.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind. Let’s meet back at the hotel around six.”

  “See you then.”

  Quaid’s Bluetooth beeped again as he maneuvered the truck into a parking space on the street outside Knight’s Horse Theater.

  Jenna’s voice sounded different. Relaxed. Happy?

  “Hi, Garrett. You have a minute?”

  “Of course, what’s up?”

  “Well, first I wanted to tell you that Ricky has settled in fantastically. He’s even doing pretty well in school. I’m so relieved. And I owe it to you...I would never have made the decision to move without some guidance.”

  “I promised my brother I’d always look out for you two. I’m glad it’s working out. ’Course, I miss you guys like crazy.”

  “Well, that’s partly why I’m calling. I have a chance to go on a weekend trip to New York City with a group of Air Force wives. I’d really love to go. Would you be willing to come stay with Ricky? He would love it, and I would feel more comfortable about being away from him. The trip is next weekend, and Ricky’s off school on the Monday, so it’s three days.”