This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
Text copyright © 2014 Michele Scott
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.
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ISBN-13: 9781477847794
ISBN-10: 1477847790
Cover design by Krista Vossen
Library of Congress Control Number: 2014907840
To all the women and girls out there who are totally and completely horse crazy!
CONTENTS
CHAPTER one
CHAPTER two
CHAPTER three
CHAPTER four
CHAPTER five
CHAPTER six
CHAPTER seven
CHAPTER eight
CHAPTER nine
CHAPTER ten
CHAPTER eleven
CHAPTER twelve
CHAPTER thirteen
CHAPTER fourteen
CHAPTER fifteen
CHAPTER sixteen
CHAPTER seventeen
CHAPTER eighteen
CHAPTER nineteen
CHAPTER twenty
CHAPTER twenty-one
CHAPTER twenty-two
CHAPTER twenty-three
CHAPTER twenty-four
CHAPTER twenty-five
CHAPTER twenty-six
CHAPTER twenty-seven
CHAPTER twenty-eight
CHAPTER twenty-nine
CHAPTER thirty
CHAPTER thirty-one
CHAPTER thirty-two
CHAPTER thirty-three
CHAPTER thirty-four
CHAPTER thirty-five
CHAPTER thirty-six
CHAPTER thirty-seven
CHAPTER thirty-eight
CHAPTER thirty-nine
CHAPTER forty
CHAPTER forty-one
CHAPTER forty-two
CHAPTER forty-three
CHAPTER forty-four
CHAPTER forty-five
CHAPTER forty-six
CHAPTER forty-seven
CHAPTER forty-eight
CHAPTER forty-nine
CHAPTER fifty
CHAPTER fifty-one
CHAPTER fifty-two
CHAPTER fifty-three
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
CHAPTER one
I still can’t believe I’m going to Virginia for the entire summer instead of spending it with my mom in Oregon. The truth is, ever since I won the chance to go to Liberty Farms, a world-class training facility on the East Coast, I’ve been pinching myself, because it seems like a dream.
I sit up straighter as the flight attendant’s voice comes over the speaker. “Ladies and gentlemen, the captain has turned on the fasten-seat-belt sign. Please bring your tray tables and seats to their upright and locked positions as we make our final approach into Washington Dulles International Airport.”
I stare out the window and send a silent thank-you to my mare, Harmony, whose amazing performance at the scholastic championship event in Kentucky last month made this whole thing possible. I’m excited to see her soon—she’ll arrive at Liberty Farms not long after I get there. This summer is going to be a once-in-a-lifetime chance for a kid like me who doesn’t come from money, since Fairmont Academy is paying my way. Every step like this I take brings me closer to my dream of one day becoming an Olympic rider in the sport of three-day eventing.
I’m honestly kind of amazed I’m feeling so optimistic, considering that just weeks ago, the death of one my closest friends, Joel Parker, turned my life upside down. If things had gone as planned, Joel would be meeting me at Liberty Farms later today. Instead, he’s gone. When I discovered him dead in his room after the competition last month was over, the cops in Kentucky had ruled that it was suicide by overdose. I know in my heart of hearts, though—and I may be the only one who believes this—that Joel did not kill himself. I’m positive that he was murdered. I’m also positive that, this summer, I’m going to find out who killed my friend and why.
Once the plane lands and I grab my two huge duffels at baggage claim, I make my way to the airport shuttle pickup. It seems like it takes forever to drop off the other passengers at various locations around the city, but finally, I’m the only one left and we’re traveling on pretty country roads.
I feel a surge of excitement when I notice a wooden sign off to the left that says “Liberty Farms.” Outside the window, emerald-green pastures hemmed in by white fences flash past. “Wow,” I say, mostly to myself.
The shuttle driver, an older lady with short curly gray hair, looks at me in the rearview mirror and smiles. “It’s something, isn’t it?”
“Yep,” I say as we proceed up the cobblestone drive. I’ve read up on the place, so I immediately see landmarks I recognize: the two large barns, which can hold a total of forty horses; three large pastures; and a dozen paddocks. What’s taking me a little by surprise is that it looks so much like old East Coast money. It’s almost intimidating. In the distance, I spot a grand old Southern-style mansion with massive white columns. This place is definitely different than Fairmont, where I go to school in Southern California, which has views of the Pacific Ocean and casual one-story white stucco buildings.
When the van stops in front of one of the barns, the driver looks at me and says, “You need help with your bags?”
I shake my head. “Nope, thanks. I got it.”
She gives me a friendly smile. “You’re a sweetheart. Now that it’s really summer, I’ll take any chance to stay inside this air-conditioned van.”
I laugh and say good-bye, then go around the back of the van and unload my big duffels. About five seconds later, I understand what the driver was saying—because I’m already drenched in sweat. The humidity is unbelievable. The next minute I start swatting the air around me like a crazy person, because I’m being attacked by a flying black bug that looks almost big enough to be a bird. But despite the heat and the bugs, I feel like pinching myself. It’s hard to believe I’m finally here.
CHAPTER two
Welcome to Virginia,” I hear someone say. When I look up, I see a blond woman about my mom’s age smiling at me. “The land of humidity and giant bugs.”
I laugh and put out my hand. “I’m Vivienne,” I say.
“I’m Faith Watson, the Liberty Farms coordinator,” she says. “I’ll take you on a quick tour first, and then show you where you’ll be staying. You can leave your bags here for now.”
I follow Faith into the barn, and my mouth practically drops open. Each stall is double-size and layered with what looks like at least four feet of shavings. The rehab equipment includes a few water treadmills, a saltwater spa, and a TheraPlate, which kind of looks like a treadmill but is actually a place where horses stand and undergo healing vibration therapy. As I follow Faith around the property, I see two indoor arenas,
one with mirrors for dressage lessons and another for jumping, plus two outdoor arenas. I’m totally blown away, especially because I know that the coaches who teach here are as impressive as the facilities. At Fairmont, we work with Kayla and Holden Fairmont, the school’s cofounders, as well as the head coach, Christian Albright. All three of them have national reputations. Training with them in California this past year was incredible—and I’m pretty thrilled that Holden will be coaching at Liberty Farms for the summer too. But I’m also excited to meet some of the other legendary coaches who teach here, like the famous Bernard Richardson. Having access to experts like him is going to be amazing.
“Okay,” Faith says, when we’re done with the tour. “Last stop is your cabin. Maybe you can meet some of your roommates.”
I raise my eyebrows. “More than one?”
She laughs. “You’ll be bunking with three other girls. This isn’t Fairmont Academy.”
I’m suddenly horrified that I’ve given her the impression that I’m some spoiled Fairmont rich kid. “Can’t wait to meet them,” I say.
She gives me a thumbs-up. “Someone dropped off your bags, so you should be all set.”
“Thanks,” I say.
When I get inside, I spot a girl with light-brown hair sitting on one of the bunks. She bounds up and comes to my side, holding out her hand to shake.
“Nice to meet you,” she says in a Southern accent. “I’m Janna Olsen.”
“Vivienne Taylor,” I say, holding out my hand. “Your new roommate.”
“Well, Vivienne,” she drawls, gesturing around the cabin, “it’s not exactly the Ritz, but we’ll make do, right?”
I nod and look at the setup. The inside of the cabin is clean, but nothing special. There are bunk beds pushed against two of the walls, and four dressers, so we each have a place to store our things. That’s it. Nothing fancy. It’s definitely not as plush as my suite at Fairmont, which I share with just one girl.
It kind of reminds me of an old-fashioned summer camp. Over the past school year, I’ve had just one roommate—my friend Martina—so I’m not sure how well I’ll deal with this new situation. But since there’s no choice, I’m sure that I will find a way to handle it.
Still, I’m nervous. I don’t come from the rich kids’ club, and even though Janna seems down-to-earth, I’m betting she does. Most of the kids in the equestrian world seem to have bundles of money—at least the ones from Fairmont. Not me, though. I’m a small-town kid with a scholarship, which means that fitting in isn’t always easy for me.
“Bathroom is that way,” Janna says in her Southern drawl. She pulls her hair up into a ponytail. “One mirror and four girls—should be interesting.” She laughs. “Luckily, I don’t wear much makeup.”
I smile and feel relieved that I might have already met someone I could be friends with. Janna is pretty, but she’s no-fuss, and nothing like the tan, blond Barbie types that I’ve become accustomed to dealing with in California. No . . . Janna is actually paler than me, which is saying a lot. In addition to her fair skin, she has light-blue eyes and an easy smile. She seems a lot nicer than most of the girls at Fairmont, at least on first impression.
“I’m not much for makeup, either,” I say. “I’m just here for the riding.”
I don’t say out loud, of course, that I’m also hoping to solve the mystery of my friend Joel’s death. Not exactly icebreaker conversation.
I start putting my clothes away in the empty dresser near my bunk as Janna heads to the bathroom for a quick shower.
A mix of emotions washes over me as I unpack. Mainly, I’m dying to know who else has arrived. One of the first people I’ll be looking for is my best friend, Riley Reed, who I got close to at school last year, and who was in Kentucky with me for the championships. He knows all about Liberty Farms, because he used to train here, along with Joel, back before coming to Fairmont. The second person on my list to find is Austen Giles, who I’ve known since I was about eight years old. Austen and I grew up together as fellow riders and friends—until we kissed for the first time, right before he left for college and I left for Fairmont. My cheeks flush as I remember what he whispered into my ear when we both were home over Christmas break. Someday, Vivienne Taylor, someday. It had felt like a promise that we’d be together eventually, like it was inevitable. I’m not exactly sure how I feel about Austen now—all I know is that I love being near him.
Unfortunately, Liberty Farms is also going to be home this summer to some kids I’d rather avoid. For starters, there’s Tristan Goode. Up until a couple of weeks ago, he was my boyfriend. But I broke up with him after a mysterious photo was texted to my phone that showed him lying naked in bed—in the bed of his ex, Lydia Gallagher. Finding out he’d betrayed me that way was awful, especially so soon after Joel’s death. I was a mess. But the silver lining is that I got away from Tristan before he could hurt me in other ways. I’m guessing by now he’s fully back together with Lydia. Seeing the two of them act cuddly is definitely not something I’m looking forward to.
What fills me with the most dread, though, is the idea of getting to the bottom of Joel’s death—and finding out that someone I care deeply for might be covering up the truth of what happened that night. Like Riley. As much as I can’t wait to see my best friend, I worry that he is hiding something more than his usual secrets. See, the thing is, Joel and Riley are both gay. Well, only Riley is now because Joel is . . . dead. But Riley is, and he’s still keeping his big secret from his family. No surprise there, since they’re all deeply religious and fiercely conservative. Riley is afraid that if and when they find out, he’ll lose everything—especially his horse, Santos, which would totally destroy him.
Sometimes, my thoughts go to a very dark place, and I wonder if Riley might sacrifice just about anything to keep his secret from being exposed. Would he have sacrificed Joel? I find it hard to wrap my brain around the idea that he could have been involved in a murder, but I have to say that I can’t 100 percent rule it out. Joel and Riley were on the outs again last semester when Joel’s supposed overdose happened. On top of that, there’s the fact that this awful rich kid named Chris Haverly, who was with us in Lexington at the championships, seemed to have some kind of sick power over both Riley and Joel. Exactly what he was holding over their heads is one of the mysteries I’m planning to solve. Since Chris rides at Liberty and will be here along with the rest of us this summer, it shouldn’t be too hard to learn a little more.
I’m just hoping I won’t have to run into Joel’s horrible stepmother, Tiffany. She’s a well-known East Coast trainer who used to teach at Liberty Farms. What if Tiffany is a guest coach here? I quickly try and erase that horrible thought from my mind. I spent an awkward dinner with Joel in Lexington, during which Tiffany threatened to take away Joel’s horse, Melody, and give it instead to her daughter, Paisley—Joel’s horrible, spoiled stepsister. Fortunately, that didn’t happen, since I was able to convince Kayla Fairmont to purchase Melody. I’m not entirely sure that makes Kayla a hero, though.
Janna comes out of the bathroom just as I’m shoving my now-empty duffels under the bunk. “Wonder when we’ll meet our other roommates,” she says.
“Let’s just hope one of them is not Lydia Gallagher,” I say. “I don’t want to say anything mean about someone from my own school, but let’s just say she might not be the easiest person to live with.”
Janna smiles. “I’ve got a few people from my school I don’t like either. Okay, so we’ll hope for no Lydia.”
“Fingers crossed,” I say.
“Hey, is your horse here yet? Maybe we could go check out the barns once I’m dressed.”
“She’s not here, but she should be arriving soon,” I say. “I’d love to go down to the barns.” I walk over to the door of the cabin and look outside just in time to see a semi pulling around the side of the main barn. The writing on the side of the truck says �
�Cranston & Co. Haulers.”
I know that my girl and the rest of the horses coming from Fairmont are on that truck.
“She’s here,” I shout with excitement. I’m beyond ready to see Harmony—I hate being separated from her for even a day. Two seconds later, I’m out the door. Janna shouts after me, “Wait up!” but I’m already chasing the truck.
It comes to a stop in front of one of the barns. I spot Faith walking over to the driver, who hands her a clipboard. A couple of grooms arrive to help unload. I eagerly wait for the moment I can bring Harmony off the trailer.
The door on the side of the truck is opened, and the first out is Lydia’s horse, Geisha. My stomach sinks. I have nothing against the horse. She’s a nice mare, but she is a harsh reminder that my nemesis will be arriving at any moment. As Geisha is led down the ramp, a bolt of anxiety hits me and I feel short of breath. Luckily, the unpleasant feeling lifts quickly. I feel certain it relates to the fact that I’m so not crazy about Lydia. Second out is Tristan’s horse, Sebastian. I can’t help but grimace as I think of how appropriate it is that their horses traveled together, now that Lydia and Tristan are so cozy. Next, I’m surprised to see Joel’s horse, Melody, come off the truck—what in the world is she doing here? I shake my head as I realize I need to start thinking of Melody as Kayla’s horse. Now that Joel is dead, the mare belongs to her. I’m burning with curiosity to know why Kayla would send the horse here instead of keeping her in California.
In the next moment, though, I forget my questions as I catch sight of Harmony starting to descend the ramp. Her ears prick forward, and the sunlight hits her shiny gray coat. I walk over to the handler and smile at him. “I can take her. She’s mine.”
“All yours, kid,” he says.
I take the lead rope from him and rub my hand over her face, then give her a kiss on the nose. She’s happy to see me, but as she pulls up to her full height, it’s clear that she’s curious about her new surroundings—all ears and eyes. I sense anxiety in her too, and I can tell she’s wondering whether she’s here to be sold.
Perfect Harmony: A Vivienne Taylor Horse Lover's Mystery (Fairmont Riding Academy Book 3) Page 1
