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

by Toni Leland

  “You got that right. These horses are extremely valuable, and I can’t take any chances for infections or bacteria or disease having a place to breed. The white stuff you see is lime. It neutralizes the ammonia.”

  Kim swallowed. That caring frame of mind didn’t fit a man who would purposely infect horses with a serious disease, regardless of who owned them. She glanced at him, seeing the years of hard work and dedication that lined his face. No way. She couldn’t imagine anything that would drive him to such lengths. Still...she needed to hear it firsthand.

  They entered a large room filled with costumes and props.

  “This is command central,” he said, chuckling. “Get six performers in here trying to get dressed at the same time and you have unfettered chaos.”

  Kim touched a beautiful bridle studded with glittering rhinestones. “This tack must have cost a fortune.”

  “It doesn’t come cheap, but I have most of it custom made by Amish leather craftsmen. They’re well known for their leather expertise, but a few of them also design elegant show stuff. The important thing is that the beautiful trappings are applied to strong, reliable tack. Can’t have a horse taking off because some flimsy attachment broke.” He grinned. “You should really see our show. Sophia, especially. She hangs upside down with her head only inches from the horse’s hooves. She could be killed if the equipment fails.”

  Kim remembered the scene in detail and she widened her eyes for effect. “Wow, so is she your main star?”

  Knight’s face darkened a bit. “She is now. We used to have another highly talented young performer, but she left the company.”

  Kim saw her chance. “Was that Natalie Danseur?”

  Surprise widened Knight’s eyes, then his eyebrows came together. “How do you know about her?”

  Kim dropped her gaze. “Mr. Knight, I haven’t been completely honest with you. I’m working for Natalie on an insurance case.” She looked back up at him. “I was hoping you could help me.”

  “Jeezus, how many detectives does she need, anyway? I already talked to another guy yesterday. And I’ll tell you the same thing I told him – I don’t know anything about Danseur’s problems.”

  Kim couldn’t let the opportunity pass. She had to ask, even if she ended up thrown off the property.

  “Mr. Knight, did you visit a Thoroughbred barn in Aurora a few weeks ago?”

  He looked nonplused. “Why would I do that? We only use European horses here.”

  “The owner of Breakstone Thoroughbred Farm described a visitor that exactly matches your description.”

  Knight scowled. “Breakstone? Never heard of it. You think there aren’t other men out there that resemble me? I mean, take a look. I’m not exactly unique.”

  Kim smiled. “We’re all unique. I just needed to ask.” She waited a beat, then softened her tone. “Do you happen to know why Natalie’s marriage fell apart?”

  He stared at her, long and hard. “Because her husband ran off with my wife.”

  Quaid grinned at the gray-haired man in a wheelchair. “I hear you’re the best enhancer in the state.”

  A chuckle. “Yeah, and I have a good PR company too. What can I do for you?”

  Quaid fished out the security disk and handed it over. “There’s a frame on here that I need blown up. It’s at about three hours and twenty-seven minutes, give or take.”

  The videographer slid the disk into the computer and pressed a button. A time-lapse grid appeared on the screen above the actual video footage. Typing in the approximate time stamp, he then pressed start and Natalie’s parking area appeared on the screen. Setting the speed to slow, he sat back.

  “This will show frame by frame. Let me know when we get to the one you want enlarged.”

  About five minutes later, Quaid pointed. “Right there.”

  The man went through some steps, then extracted the frame from the footage and saved it as an image. A few more procedures and the frame appeared on a large computer screen to the right of the equipment.

  The man emerging from Natalie’s barn was full face toward the security camera that had recorded him.

  “I’m guessing you want a close-up of this guy?”

  Quaid nodded, watching the videographer crop and enhance until the picture was clear enough to see facial details.

  “Will this do it?”

  “Absolutely. I really appreciate your help.”

  The printer spit out a glossy copy of the image while Quaid dug out his wallet. Ten minutes and fifty dollars later, Quaid climbed into his car and called Kovak. Her voice mail picked up and he left a message. Then he stared at the photograph. He had no idea who this might be, but the date was just about right for the start of the infection in Natalie’s barn.

  Kim stood in stunned silence, gaping at Mark Knight. Her brain burned through several scenarios, none of which lent anything to the concept of Knight vandalizing of Natalie’s horses. He and Natalie were in the same boat – both blindsided and deceived by adulterous spouses.

  His shoulders sagged and he shook his head. “She took Damon’s infidelity very hard. We both did, but there was no talking to her. She just left the company without giving me any notice.” Knight recovered and started toward the door. “You need to leave. I’ve had enough of Natalie’s insensitive meddling in my life. She needs to accept what happened and move on. If she’d kept the home fires burning, DeMarco would never have left.”

  Kim murmured an apology as she left the room. The strong odor in the stall area inflamed both her nasal passages and her thoughts. Natalie’s case was at a standstill. Knight had no reason to go after her, and since DeMarco had gone off to pursue his own happiness, it made little sense that he might decide to hurt Natalie just because she threw him out. Who did that leave?

  Only Sanchez. Or the long shot possibility that the attack was done by some random deranged person with a hard-on for horse racing. Kim stopped short. Could that be it? Natalie’s barn was not part of the racing complex, but a stranger wouldn’t know the difference. Natalie’s barn was closed in, protected from outside view – especially that arena – the perfect setup for sabotage. And the virulent disease would easily and quickly spread to the other racing barns.

  Kim shook her head and walked toward the street. The police should really be the ones pursuing this.

  Chapter 31

  After leaving a message for Natalie, Kim called Quaid.

  “You are not going to believe what I found out.”

  “I’m hard to surprise, but you can try,” he said.

  “DeMarco had an affair with Mark Knight’s wife. A serious affair, as in fall in love and run away together.”

  Quaid whistled. “Okay, you got my attention on that one. How did you find out?”

  “I’m at the theater and I got it straight from Knight. I think we’re out of suspects, unless Sanchez works out. Have you located his address?”

  “Not yet, but I have that video capture. What do Lane and DeMarco look like?”

  “Lane is blonde and gorgeous. DeMarco is clearly Italian, dark hair and eyes, attractive.”

  “Bingo. DeMarco might be the mystery man on the security disk. Or, actually...maybe the brother, with a name like Sanchez...but you’ve met DeMarco, so you can confirm. If it’s not him, we can go after Sanchez, but I think that’s a stretch. This is close and personal – not a long-distance old grudge. My gut tells me so.”

  “But why would DeMarco want to hurt Natalie if he was the one who left the marriage?” Kim thought for a moment. “Natalie is a tough nut. Maybe DeMarco was unhappy that she just moved on after the breakup, didn’t care enough to fight for her man.”

  “Could be, but the person on the tape was officially at her barn just before the horses would have gotten sick. We need to question DeMarco again, and I want a shot at Lane.”

  “But he is clearly collateral damage in Natalie’s mess of a marriage. I don’t believe–”

  “Don’t let emotions or feminine intuitio
n cloud your judgment. Until Lane is cleared, he’s fair game.”

  The chauvinistic comment didn’t sit well with Kim, a reminder of the head butting they’d engaged in last summer. With great effort, she kept her thoughts and nasty retorts to herself.

  “There’s little chance DeMarco will agree to another conversation and, besides, I have no idea where he lives.”

  “I can find that out. Where are you now?”

  “I’m still near Knight’s. I left Natalie a message that I wanted to talk, but haven’t heard back. I might take a ride out to the track.”

  “Okay, I’ll find DeMarco’s address, then I’ll swing by Lane’s office to see if I can catch him there. I’ll meet you at Natalie’s a little later. I’m down in the far south side, so it’ll take me a while to get there. I think it’s time to give Natalie a rundown of what we’ve found.”

  After saying goodbye, Kim picked up her camera and set it to replay the photos she had just taken. Then, scanning back to the original shots of Natalie’s barn – the ones she’d taken for the magazine piece – she examined each of the horse shots, a lump growing in her throat. These beautiful animals had suffered greatly and, whether it had been on purpose or accidental, it was wrong. Same thing with the horses at Breakstone – careless or economically driven maintenance could be the culprit there. Kim frowned. But why would well-heeled Natalie take such a chance and not inoculate her horses? Kim tried to remember the details of the disease. She thought she’d seen a notation that even vaccinated horses could get it, but to a lesser degree. So, if the horses had been vaccinated, at least the progression of the disease would not be deadly. Except to the expectant mare and her foal, but that wasn’t an issue.

  Kim continued scanning the photos, stopping to admire the original interior barn shot she’d taken from the doorway on her first visit. It was a nicely composed image, well balanced, well lit. She zoomed a little to look at some of the detail, noticing especially the fly sprayer mounted on the rafter. She grinned. That had seemed like such a neat idea – too bad it had proved to be impractical. She moved the image a little to the left, then felt the smile fade from her face. In perfect focus, a small surveillance camera hung from the corner over the stalls.

  She grabbed her phone and left a message for Quaid. “Houston, we have a problem.”

  Kim sped down the expressway, her brain on full alert. Why had Natalie denied having security cameras in her barn? Who was she protecting in her efforts to see Knight’s Horse Theater crash and burn? Arriving at Riverway Park about forty minutes later, Kim slowed as she approached Natalie’s barn. The black Lexus was nowhere in sight, but a white van with the state emblem was parked by the door. Kim parked well away from the barn in a spot where she could see any activity. She glanced in the rearview mirror, then scanned the immediate area. A few horses jogged on the track, and a groom pushed a cart toward a towering manure pile behind the complex. Maybe Natalie’s car was parked somewhere else, like over at the clubhouse. Surely, she would be at the barn to meet with the quarantine officers. Kim was dying to go inside and see what was going on, but instinct told her it wouldn’t be the smartest move. She sat back and stared at the barn door.

  Her phone vibrated against her hip and she fumbled with the seatbelt. An unknown number appeared on the screen.

  A husky voice spoke. “Miss Kovak? This is Lottie from Breakstone Farm. You left a message...”

  “Oh, thanks for calling me back. Your husband said you talked to a woman visitor about four weeks ago, about the time your horses, uh, got sick. Do you remember her name?”

  “Gosh, I don’t. It was something ordinary.”

  “Maybe Natalie?”

  “Could be, but I don’t think so. I’m sorry – we had such a terrible loss and I can’t remember much about anything.”

  “What did this woman look like? Can you describe her?”

  A long pause. “Well, she was small, I remember that much. Didn’t look like she could handle a big Thoroughbred.”

  “What color hair?”

  “Dark and short. I’m really sorry I can’t be more help.”

  Kim stared through the windshield. “Oh, you’ve been very helpful.”

  Quaid found a parking spot on the street in front of Charles Lane’s office building.

  The elevators opened onto an elegant reception area brightly illuminated by light from the floor to ceiling windows. Quaid whistled softly. Pricey real estate in midtown. The architectural design business must be thriving.

  A few minutes later, Charles Lane stepped through a door and a small stab of jealousy took Quaid by surprise, remembering Kovak’s description of the man. She’d called him “gorgeous.”

  “Mr. Quaid? Come on in.” Lane gestured through the door. “Clear to the end of the hall.”

  Quaid took a chair and smiled. “Nice view.”

  Lane nodded. “What can I do for you today?”

  Quaid leaned forward. “I need some information about Natalie Danseur. I’m–”

  “Enough! You tell Natalie that whatever her problems might be, they aren’t my doing. She made her bed, she can sleep in it.”

  “Whoa! That’s a pretty aggressive response to a question I never asked.”

  Lane exhaled sharply and shook his head. “I made a mistake, let my ego be persuaded that she really cared.” He leveled a look at Quaid. “You know how it is...suddenly you look up one day and you’re looking at forty-five. Charming young woman finds you attractive.” His expression hardened. “It never works out.”

  “I hear you, man. And listen, no one is accusing you of anything. I’m just trying to figure out what happened to Danseur’s horses. Since you were close to her, I thought you might be able to provide some insights.”

  “I never even saw her horses. I was always at the theater building or meeting her here.”

  Quaid gave him a hard look. “Were you sleeping with her?”

  Lane snorted derisively. “Came close, but thank God it never happened.”

  Quaid tried the guy-buddy thing. “Jeez, and you’re happy about that?”

  Lane didn’t smile. “When she told me about the baby, that ended it.”

  Chapter 32

  Kim drove quickly away from Natalie’s barn, weaving through the maze that took her to the racecourse exit. A tight band wrapped around her chest as she tried to make sense of the thoughts spinning through her head. She found a service station down the road, pulled into a parking spot, and quickly dialed Quaid. She had to catch him before he reached Natalie’s barn.

  He picked up immediately. “I was just about to call. You aren’t gonna believe what I found out.”

  “Likewise. Meet me at the hotel. We need to regroup.”

  Later, as Kim and Quaid entered the lobby, they both stopped to watch a news broadcast blaring from the corner. As the reporter related the sketchy details of a fire at the famous Knight’s Horse Theater, Kim held her breath. Quaid’s expletive hung on the air.

  He turned, his expression more intense than Kim had ever seen. “This can’t be a coincidence. Did you talk to Danseur?”

  “No, she wasn’t at the barn. Then the woman from Breakstone called me and I left the racetrack.”

  The camera zoomed in to the young man reporting on the fire. “Luckily, no horses or people were injured in the blaze. Once it cools down, investigators will be sifting through the damage to determine the cause. And now, our weather girl with some news about the incoming weather.”

  Quaid started down the hall toward the rooms, and Kim hurried to keep up, her breath coming in snatches.

  “Do you think that fire had anything to do with Natalie?”

  Quaid stopped at his door and scowled. “I’d bet money on it.”

  A couple of minutes later, Kim chose one of the chairs and Quaid sat on the edge of the bed.

  “All those elusive pieces are starting to come together,” he said. “And the picture that’s forming doesn’t look like sabotage.”

  “My
thoughts exactly, especially after I discovered a security camera in Natalie’s barn. Why wouldn’t she give us the footage from that?”

  “Don’t know, but here’s a killer tidbit for you. Lane’s May-December romance ended because Natalie was pregnant.”

  “No!” Kim’s mental calculator counted the months and she shook her head. “That was months ago. She’d be huge by now. It must have been a lie, maybe a way to extricate herself from an unwanted relationship.”

  “Possibly, but Charles Lane doesn’t strike me as gullible. He says he never slept with her, but for sure, he wouldn’t want the scandal of consorting with another man’s pregnant wife. I checked up on him and he’s a pillar of Chicago society.”

  Kim stared at her lap for a moment. “Lottie from Breakstone Farm described that other woman visitor as being small, with short dark hair.”

  Quaid’s eyes narrowed. “If it was Natalie, then we’ve solved the mystery. Pretty crappy way to get revenge, though, endangering your own horses.” A scowl darkened his face. “And she used us to keep it private.”

  “Oh boy, now something else makes sense,” said Kim. “The vet told me that Natalie moved a pregnant mare to another location well before the strangles outbreak. I just considered it a stroke of good luck. Obviously it was more than that. Natalie lost everything – her ballet dreams, her husband. Someone would have to pay. And we’ve been trying to help her do that.”

  Quaid stood up quickly. “We might have been focusing on the wrong target. Susan Knight might be in real danger.” He grabbed his jacket and started toward the door. “I’ll go to DeMarco’s and give him a heads up. You see if you can locate Natalie. If she set that fire, she’s probably hiding out somewhere.”

  Kim followed him out the door. “I suspect she’s at the theater building. I’ll call you when I find her.”

  Quaid strode away toward his truck, his long legs covering the distance quickly. Kim zipped her jacket and looked up at the gray sky. A large snowflake swirled slowly toward the ground. The startlingly cold air burned her cheeks as she climbed into the car. Time to wrap this up and go home. Anger rose like a rattlesnake strike. Natalie Danseur had used them – had orchestrated an elaborate scenario to bring down her supposed nemesis. How had she and Quaid both missed the obvious? Danseur had evaded personal questions, aggressively directed the investigation, and manipulated evidence. It was now crystal clear why she hadn’t wanted to involve the police.