How do I know this?
Yeah, well—that’s the funny thing about me. I’m what you would call an “equine communicator.” I can read the thoughts of horses, especially if I’m close to them. Nobody knows about this ability except for two other people: my mother, who is very protective of my gift, and Kayla Fairmont. How she found out, I have no clue, but she confronted me about my unusual skills after the championship event in Kentucky where Joel died. I’m still in the dark about exactly how much she knows about my gift. All I know is that when she talked to me about it, she used the most condescending tone imaginable. She lectured me like the world’s worst know-it-all.
Here is the thing about communicating with horses, she said. You don’t have enough skill and insight yet to really understand how to handle it. Your own thoughts, imaginings, and perceptions can get in the way. You have to be responsible about that. Otherwise, there can be serious problems in interpreting the communication. Sometimes, Vivienne, you need to allow horses to just be horses, because at the end of the day, they aren’t human.
Remembering her words makes me roll my eyes. Sure, Kayla Fairmont is a lot older than I am, but just because she’s the dean of my school didn’t give her the right to read me the riot act. To be honest, the more I’ve thought about our confrontation, the more I’ve started questioning whether I can trust Kayla. How did she find out about my abilities? Was she investigating me for some unimaginable—and possibly dark—motive of her own? I wish I had the guts to ask her whether she, too, has some kind of unique ability. Maybe she’s some kind of psychic who can read people’s inner thoughts, or maybe she can also communicate with horses. My mom has said there are others like me out there—although how she knows, exactly, I’m not sure. So why can’t I just ask Kayla a few questions and figure it out once and for all? Something stops me. I suppose it’s that authority figure thing. The lady is sort of intimidating.
I feel another wave of anxiety from Harmony as she again tries to understand the unfamiliar surroundings, and I stroke her neck to calm her down. “You’re always going to be with me,” I say, swallowing hard, because I know that I can’t really make such a promise. Harmony isn’t my horse, after all. She belongs to Kayla and Holden Fairmont. “You’re not up for sale. We’re here for some summer camp.”
Janna strolls up to me. “She’s beautiful, Vivienne.”
“Thank you.”
She points to one of the paddocks where a horse with a chestnut coat and white stockings on its front legs is grazing. “There’s my baby,” she says. “His name is Cavalli.”
“How long have you been riding him?”
“Just a year. We’d only been together for a short time before I rode him at the qualifying round in Lexington. My other horse had maxed out at prelim, so I got lucky with Cavalli. He’s got some serious scope, and his dressage is gorgeous. He was imported from the UK.”
I look at her in surprise. “Nice. I’d love to be able to go look at horses abroad someday. You were in Kentucky? I can’t believe we didn’t get to know each other!”
For the first time since we’ve met, a dark look crosses her face. “I was kind of glued to my teammates and coach during the competition, so I’m not surprised. I would have been way better off trying to meet new people,” she says.
Before I can ask her what she means, I hear a male voice call my name. I swivel my head and see that Tristan is walking toward us. I want to turn my back and walk away, but I also know that I’m going to have to deal with him at some point. I might as well get it over with.
“Guess the next batch has arrived,” I say.
Janna’s eyes are glued to Tristan as he gets closer.
“He couldn’t have been in Lexington too,” she says. “I would have noticed someone that gorgeous.” Her voice is full of admiration.
“Oh, he was there,” I say.
“Vivvie!” he yells, waving to make sure that I see him. How could I not see him? Even from here, those greenish-blue eyes of his stand out against the warm glow of his skin and fair hair. Well, Janna is right about him being gorgeous. There’s no denying that Tristan is hot. I can’t take that away from him.
He walks up to us with purpose, and my stomach sinks.
“Why haven’t you returned my calls? My texts, my e-mails? What the hell is going on?”
“Tristan, this is Janna Olsen.”
“Hello.” He nods at her and she smiles, returning the hello, then he immediately turns back to me. “What gives, Vivvie?”
“Really? What gives?”
“Very nice to meet you,” Janna says in her sweet Southern accent. “Looks like you two have some things to talk about, so I’m just going to see you back at the cabin, Vivienne.”
“Thank you,” I mutter and start walking toward one of the paddocks to let Harmony graze. Tristan steps in line with me.
“I think you owe me an explanation,” he says.
“I owe you an explanation?” I can sense my horse’s tension at our conversation, probably because she detects my anger. “Let me see, did you not get the text that I forwarded to you when I went back home? The one with a picture of you lying naked on Lydia’s bed? It was sent to me by a blocked number, which I find fascinating.”
He tosses up his arms. “And don’t you think that may have been taken before you came along, when Lydia and I were going out? Or did you ever wonder if maybe it had been photoshopped? Or did you consider the most likely explanation: that I’d gotten drunk at a party and passed out somewhere random afterward? For your information, I told you the truth when I said that Lydia and I have never had sex. That’s true no matter what photo you see.”
I roll my eyes, reach an open paddock, and turn Harmony out. I’m positive she isn’t too happy with the welcoming she’s just received. She tends to like to spend some real time with me when we’ve been away from each other, and vice versa, but as I already mentioned, this little situation needs to be dealt with quickly, so we can all move on.
“Which is it, Tristan? Is it an old photo? Or was it photoshopped? Or were you just drunk? Surely you know the answer.”
“I don’t know. I really don’t. But I’m not sleeping with Lydia!”
I cross my arms and look at him coldly, which isn’t easy to do, because I don’t have proof of anything. Maybe what he’s saying is the truth. Maybe. But, facts are, I’m not sure if he’s being honest or not. And I have had enough curveballs thrown my way through the years—the one that really stands out is my dad leaving us the day after my tenth birthday—that trusting someone doesn’t come easy. And, on top of that, Tristan has lied to me in the past. I sigh and shake my head. “You know what? I wish that I could believe you. I really do.” Oh crap, I think, digging my nails into my palms. I feel like I’m about to cry, and I really don’t want the waterworks to start. I do everything I can to suppress them. “However, the fact that I have any doubt—and I have plenty of doubt—tells me that it doesn’t matter.”
“Are you serious?” He raises his voice. “Are you kidding me right now? After everything? After all we’ve been through this year?”
His cheeks are flushed and his obvious anger is a little upsetting, to say the least. I’m not used to it, and I don’t like it at all.
“I don’t want to talk about it, Tristan,” I say. “Let’s just be done.” I’m fighting the urge to actually run away from him. Maybe I made a mistake coming to Liberty Farms in the first place. Then I hear my name and it’s a voice I recognize and my stomach sinks further.
“Vivienne!”
Tristan turns his head to see who is calling me, and then he turns back to me, now shaking his head. “I get it,” he says bitterly. “This isn’t about me, or even about Lydia. This is about him.” His eyes glow with anger as he jerks his head in the direction of Austen Giles, who is walking our way. “Farm boy. Nice. You could have just broken up with me instead of i
nventing all the drama, Vivienne.”
“Drama? Um . . . the photo I got wasn’t invented. And I don’t believe that anyone has sent you a naked picture of me in Austen’s bed, now have they?”
“No. But nothing surprises me anymore. Who knows, maybe there is one out there.”
“You’re an ass.”
“Right. I am. That I am. And since that is what you think of me, I’ll try not to let you down. In fact, I’ll live right up to your expectations, starting now.”
I’m left speechless as Tristan walks away. Austen, still coming toward me, tries to say hi as they pass each other, but gets no response. Tristan makes a beeline for an airport shuttle that’s just pulling up. A second later, I understand why as the driver opens the side door and I see Lydia Gallagher step down onto the cobblestones in a skimpy summer dress, tossing her blond hair like a star arriving on the red carpet. The second she spots Tristan, she runs into his waiting arms.
Yep. It’s going to be an interesting summer.
CHAPTER three
Looks like I interrupted something,” Austen says, looking back to see Tristan pulling Lydia close.
The next kid out of the van, who looks like a prep school poster boy with his pink oxford shirt and boat shoes, shouts, “Get a room!” A couple other kids who step out after him start laughing, but Tristan and Lydia stay pasted together. I almost gag as I realize how completely duped I’ve been.
“My guess is that things didn’t go so well between you two after the championships in Lexington,” says Austen.
“Not exactly.”
“I’m sorry, Vivvie, that I had to tell you what I knew about him.”
“It’s okay. Otherwise I never would have known that he helped cover up for Lydia. I still can’t believe that the whole time we were going out Tristan knew that she’d poisoned my horse. I’m glad you told me. Of course, he claims to be innocent. He has his version of the story.”
“This I have to hear,” Austen says, running his hand through his thick, dark, wavy hair.
“Let’s just say that Tristan has his own ugly secrets,” I say. “His dad is a pretty bad guy who’s deep into all kinds of illegal stuff. He made the mistake of telling Lydia all about it when they were close. Being the vindictive person she is, she used that information to blackmail him. She said if he reported her for poisoning Harmony, she would rat out his father—who would in turn destroy Tristan’s life completely. So he decided to keep his mouth shut. He said he felt afraid of her.”
“Hate to say it,” Austen says, “but he doesn’t look too terribly afraid of her at the moment.”
“No. He doesn’t, and that story seems like a stretch. Given how cozy they look now, I’m pretty sure that Tristan has told me a lot of lies.”
I don’t say this to Austen, but, even though I’m burning up with anger at Tristan right now, I can’t lay all the blame on him. There are some truths to Tristan’s story—like his dad being a real jerk. Tristan’s horse, Sebastian, shared some very dark and ugly things regarding Tristan’s father with me during the school year at Fairmont. So the one thing I’m inclined to believe is that Tristan doesn’t have a great relationship with his parents. But that’s definitely not a good excuse for keeping the truth from me about who poisoned Harmony. The whole thing is just a mess.
“I’m sorry, Viv.”
“I know. Thanks.”
“I’m also really sorry about your friend Joel. I hope you got my messages. When you didn’t return my calls, I thought you were upset with me. I just wanted you to know that if you needed me for anything, I’m always here for you.”
I smile. “I know. I wasn’t angry or upset with you. I just needed time to deal with what you told me about Tristan. Well, and get over being a little irritated that you hooked up with Lydia in Kentucky when I warned you against it.”
He blushes and replies, “You did warn me, and I’m sorry that I didn’t listen to you. She is kind of assertive.”
“That’s one way of putting it. As far as everything else, I really needed some space to figure things out.”
“Did you?” he asks.
“Did I what?”
“Figure anything out?”
I sigh because I’m not sure I should share this with him, but then again, I’m not sure whom else I can trust. If there is anyone I can trust this summer, it’s Austen, so I decide to divulge. “I think that the answers to what happened to Joel might be found here at Liberty Farms.”
He shakes his head. “I don’t understand. Didn’t he commit suicide?”
“No. I don’t think so. I don’t believe it.”
“Why? I mean, wasn’t it an obvious case? When they found him dead in his room, wasn’t it clear that he’d overdosed on his prescription meds?” He suddenly seems to notice my expression and reaches out to touch my arm. “Wait, you found him, didn’t you? Vivvie, I’m so sorry.”
“I did find him.” I pause for a moment, trying to shove the memory of the night back into the recesses of my mind. Unfortunately, I can’t. I remember seeing my friend on the floor, his lips tinged light blue, his hands cold, his face pale, and his eyes—gone. A shiver snakes down my back with the memory and I force myself for the second time today not to cry. “There were medications. But you don’t understand.”
“Tell me, then,” he replies. “Explain.”
“You believe me, then? You believe that Joel didn’t kill himself?”
He shrugs. “Vivienne, I don’t know. I didn’t know the guy other than just meeting him in Kentucky, but I’ve known you since we were little kids, and you’ve never lied to me or made things up. You’ve never been that girl who buys into drama. You’re Vivienne Taylor for God’s sake. You’re the most honest, sweet, and trustworthy person I know.”
It’s my turn to blush. “Thank you.”
“So, tell me why you think Joel didn’t take his life.”
“For starters,” I say, pausing as Harmony lifts her head up to look at me. I know she’s wondering when she’s going to get some time with me. I send her a quick image of myself hugging her around the neck. She takes a few steps and decides to roll. After that she gets up and tears around the pasture, bucking and tossing her head. I laugh. “Looks like someone needed to let off some steam.”
“Cooped up in that trailer for that long, they usually do. Now, continue telling me what you were telling me.”
“What you don’t know about when we were out at the championships is that Joel was on the verge of losing his horse, Melody, to his new stepmother and stepsister. His dad had told him that if he didn’t win the event that the horse would go home with them and become his stepsister, Paisley’s, new horse. Joel would have been crushed if that had happened. If they’d taken Melody away from him, I could maybe wrap my brain around him wanting to take his own life. Maybe.”
“His family sounds awful. How could they be so cold?”
“Right, I know.”
“But they didn’t take Melody away from Joel.”
“Because I interfered.”
“Of course you did.” He nods his head and smiles. “How’d you pull it off?”
“Long story short, I persuaded Kayla Fairmont to make an offer on Melody. The kind of offer that Joel’s dad couldn’t refuse.”
“I probably shouldn’t ask you how you persuaded her to spend that much on a horse she didn’t need, should I?”
I shook my head. “Probably not. It might discredit the sweetness you think I have going for me.”
“Doubtful. Seriously doubtful.”
I try not to blush again, but I can feel the heat rise to my cheeks. It’s a little weird for me to feel this way—but the fact is, I like that he’s flirting with me.
“Anyway, Kayla bought the horse and told Joel he never had to worry about her being taken from him again. He was ecstatic. I mean, he was so thrille
d. He loved that horse as much as I love Harmony, or as much as you love Axel,” I say, referring to Austen’s horse.
“Right. I’d probably throw down if someone threatened to take him from me.”
“You see.”
“But there’s more to your story than boy-loves-horse.”
I nod. “True. Did you meet that Chris Haverly kid who was at the champs? He was just hanging around because he could.”
“Briefly. His family has zillions and he struts around like that makes him special.”
“That’s the guy.”
“What about him?”
“He’s creepy weird, obnoxious, and pompous, and he totally has this jerk factor about him, and not just in terms of girls. He scared Joel. It was like Chris was holding something over his head.”
“Did Joel tell you that?”
“No, but it was obvious to me that Chris made him nervous. I saw them talking a few times, and each time it seemed tense. One time especially, Joel seemed really distressed afterward. I had to wonder what was going on.”
I don’t divulge that I also received some information from Joel’s horse that there was some bad blood between Joel and Chris from when they’d worked together at a horse farm.
“What are you getting at?” he asks.
“I wish I knew. I’m just sure Chris and Joel had some kind of dark secret and it’s possible that Chris was blackmailing or threatening Joel.”
“Wow.”
“There’s more. I think my friend Riley knows what the secret is. I think he’s involved.”
“Have you asked him?”
“I did before Joel died and they both told me to leave it all alone.”
“Well, that’s a pretty clear message. Did you try talking to Riley again, after Joel died?”
“No. I was a mess. I wasn’t in the headspace to talk to anyone. Like I told you, I needed some space and time to recover after everything that happened.”
He nods. I look over again and see Harmony coming toward us. “I think she wants my attention.”
Perfect Harmony: A Vivienne Taylor Horse Lover's Mystery (Fairmont Riding Academy Book 3) Page 2
