Perfect Harmony: A Vivienne Taylor Horse Lover's Mystery (Fairmont Riding Academy Book 3)
Page 5
Not that she owes me one. I have a kind of weird friendship with Emily, probably because right after we first met at Fairmont, she helped me catch a killer. It’s a strange way to get acquainted. We’d never been typical BFFs, but we’d gotten to know each other pretty well during the school year. Like, I know she has a crazy ambitious horse-show mom who puts a ton of pressure on her to perform, even though she has clearly said she hates competitive riding and just wants to be a vet. I also know she has some confidence problems. There’s no other way to explain why she used to hang out with Lydia and her crew—who I call the DZ, which means “drama zone”—even though they weren’t that nice to her. Anyway, the girl has some issues, and she takes meds for depression too. In short, Emily can be unpredictable. I never know what she’s going to do next.
“I thought you’d decided not to come,” I say.
She crawls out of bed and takes the rubber band she has on her wrist off, pulling her wavy hair back into a bushy ponytail. “Where’s the coffee?” she asks.
“I said shut up,” Lydia repeats.
We both ignore her. Again.
“There’s one of those Keurig machines at the main house. Want to head down?” I put on a pair of shorts and a T-shirt, knowing that the summer heat will already be apparent outside, even at six in the morning.
“Yeah. Let me change.”
A few minutes later we walk into the main house, which is called the Commons House. It’s the spot where all the students get breakfast and coffee.
“How did you manage to get Lydia as a roommate?” Emily asks. “Bet you didn’t see that coming.”
I shrug. “Luck of the draw. you still haven’t answered me. I didn’t think you were coming.”
“I wasn’t. I told my mom that I didn’t want to come out here, that I wanted to do normal teenage things for one summer—like go to the beach, shop . . . you know, what most girls our age do. Or do an internship at a vet’s office. Both those ideas went over like buckets of shiznick.”
“Got it. At least you told her. You’re starting to voice yourself. That’s good.”
“I don’t need a counseling session, Vivienne.” She looks around. “What I do need is a hot cup of coffee.”
“Got it.” I know better than to get defensive or try to argue with her. I really wasn’t trying to counsel her, but Emily is the kind of person who sees things exactly how she wants to see them.
“My horse is being flown in today, since we missed the transport, so I need to get with it so I’ll be awake when she gets here.”
With coffee and croissants in hand, I show Emily around the Commons House, since Faith gave me the tour upon arrival. It’s a two-story house that serves as the main gathering place for all the students; it’s where we’re supposed to meet each morning to receive our daily schedules. It’s equipped with a kitchen, bathroom, large family room, and a game room with a pool table and large-screen TV connected to an Xbox. There are also a couple of bedrooms upstairs, in case guests come to visit. It’s cozy and kind of reminds me of home.
The grand Southern-style mansion I saw from the airport shuttle when I first arrived sits a little farther back on the property than the Commons House and the barns, and there is nothing about it that reminds me of home. I’ve been wondering who lives there. I’m guessing that it’s whoever owns this place. I just wish I knew who that was. Before I came out here, I looked all over the Internet to see who owns Liberty Farms, but there was no real information. It had been for sale recently and all I could find out was that it had been sold. I don’t know. Maybe Faith lives there, or maybe it’s where the top trainers get to stay.
There are a few other structures around the property too, including a ramshackle farmhouse that Faith told me about. Apparently it once housed a family of slaves on the property, and there are rumors that it is now haunted. Nobody has been enthusiastic about renovating it in recent years, so it is basically awaiting demolition.
As Emily and I finish our tour of the place and head back to the kitchen, I see Chris Haverly walk through the double doors. Austen is behind him and he slyly winks at me. Hmm. He certainly isn’t wasting time in getting to be Chris’s friend.
As I grab an orange juice, I sense someone watching me and I turn to see Tristan in the corner of the room. I feel heat rise to my cheeks as he shoots me a disgusted glance and then goes back to looking at his phone.
“Do I detect a chill?” Emily nods her head toward Tristan.
“We, uh, we aren’t together any longer.”
“Oh. Interesting. Anything to do with your friend from back home?” Now she nods her head toward Austen.
“No.” Another thing about Emily is that she can change her loyalties pretty quickly, so the last thing I want is for her to find out about Austen and me. I’m super aware that we need to be very careful about the new status of our relationship. “It has to do with a photo someone texted to my phone. You might want to ask Lydia.”
“Ah. Okay. Where’s your pal Riley?” she says.
“I thought he’d be here by now,” I say, realizing that it is strange he hasn’t turned up yet. “I’m a little worried about him.”
“Poor you,” she says snidely, and jets off back to the breakfast table and starts piling a plate high with eggs.
I can’t say that I’m all that unhappy that Emily has left my side, taking her sour attitude with her, but I definitely want to question her about her last hours with Joel.
Emily had been Joel’s “girlfriend” in Lexington before he’d died—sadly, she’d been clueless that she was just playing a part, and that Joel was actually gay. For a long time, no one knew about that part of his life except for Riley, Tristan, and me. When Joel had finally come clean with Emily after the championships, she hadn’t exactly been happy about the reveal.
I know I’m paranoid, but the thought had crossed my mind more than once: What if Emily got so upset when Joel told her he was gay that she decided to take revenge? What if she’d been drunk—the girl definitely consumes more alcohol than your average high school kid—and not thinking clearly? If so, could she have done something spiteful, never thinking it could cause a tragedy? Joel supposedly overdosed on sleeping pills. I don’t have access to an autopsy report, of course, but I can’t help wondering what kind of sleeping pills were in his system. I know Emily takes all sorts of meds for her depression and whatever else she has going on.
Beyond these suspicions, I don’t like the fact that she has been so tight-lipped about her last interactions with Joel. Not that I asked her directly, but there’s part of me that imagines she might want to find comfort in talking it out. But she’s never really tried to bring it up with me.
Almost like she has something to hide.
CHAPTER eight
A minute after Faith signals the students to gather for the morning meeting, Lydia makes her entrance. I try not to roll my eyes at her polished look. I mean, seriously, how does the girl wake up in a bunk bed and walk in here ten minutes later dressed in her polo and breeches with hair and makeup that look like she just walked out of a Victoria’s Secret catalog? It just isn’t right.
She sits down on the small couch next to Tristan and leans her head on his shoulder. I try to keep my expression neutral, even though the display sort of disgusts me. Why does seeing them together get a rise out of me? Maybe because only a few short weeks ago I was ready to declare my love for Tristan. I mean, I was ready to lose my virginity to the guy. Thank God that didn’t happen. Especially now that I see how easily he moved on! I glance at Austen and he smiles at me, his eyes warm and mischievous, and my pulse speeds up. I remember our kiss last night and try not to blush.
Janna walks in and makes her way over to me. “Hey, sorry I didn’t roll out of bed when you got up. I would’ve loved to have gotten some breakfast with you and the new roomie, but I was so tired. I kind of was out late with Chris.” S
he smiles.
“Oh.” What I want to say is, “Oh no.”
“Who is that talking to him, by the way?” she asks.
I glance around and see that Emily is chatting with Chris. “That’s our new roomie. She goes to Fairmont too. She’s nice, but I can also say she’s a little bit weird.”
“I can handle nice and weird,” she says. “Anything over Lydia; you’re so right about her. She isn’t nice at all. She yelled at me to hurry up in the bathroom.”
“I’m sure she did. Like I suggested, ignoring her is best.”
“Deal. I have to tell you about Chris. He’s super sweet and interesting. He knows a ton about this place too.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. Oh, wait, but there was something else I found out from him I wanted to tell you.”
“Okay, shoot.”
“You know the TBD instructor on the schedule? I found out who it’s going to be. Some lady named Tiffany something-or-other. Supposedly she has a great reputation. I guess she also lives in the big mansion here. Supposedly she and her husband just bought the place.”
I stare at her. Seriously? Joel’s stepmother owns Liberty Farms?
“Everything okay? You look pale.”
I nod. “Fine. Just still bummed out I won’t get to train with Kim Skinner.”
“Well, I totally want to hear your take on Chris; I really kind of like him. But it looks like we’re about to start. I’ll fill you in later.”
“Okay.” I’d love to know what else she learned from Chris. I also want to tell Janna to stay away from him, but then I remember Austen’s words from last night: You can’t always come to everyone’s rescue . . .
I can tell the meeting is about to start, because Austen and the three other working students are gathering at the front of the room—then I do a double take. One of the working students by Austen’s side is none other than Joel’s stepsister, Paisley. Now, that is odd. Beyond odd. It is downright strange.
I’d only shared one meal with Paisley, back when Joel was alive, and she’d seemed spoiled and arrogant. The type who wanted to seem like a rich blue blood with East Coast money—even though she wasn’t, of course. Her mom, Tiffany, had married into Joel’s father’s wealth. So, why was she here? Were they making her work? Because the girl I’d met with Joel didn’t strike me as the type willing to be a working student. She seemed more interested in stealing Joel’s horse for herself and cozying up to her weird boyfriend—I think his name was James—than doing something productive. Austen will work his butt off as a working student, but Paisley? I can’t see it.
The other mystery at hand is why Austen didn’t know last night that Paisley and Tiffany would be involved at Liberty Farms this summer. When we’d talked at the diner, he’d said that he wasn’t aware of any of Joel’s former friends or family being on the grounds—just Chris Haverly, whose connection to Joel was still uncertain. I try to catch Austen’s eye so he’ll realize that the girl next to him is the same “Paisley” we talked about over cheeseburgers.
Faith stands up next to the working students and asks for our attention. “Riders, we’re happy to have you here at Liberty Farms. You are a group of eighteen talented individuals from around the country. You’re the best young riders we have, and you will all be receiving quality instruction and care. You’ll be learning from the best. It won’t be easy. You’ll be challenged. It’ll be fun too. We ride five days a week and take Sundays and Mondays off. We encourage you to use that time to go into town, see some sites, and get some culture. Riding lessons begin at seven thirty a.m. due to the summer heat and humidity and typically finish by noon. Then it’s lunch, and afterward you’ll be expected to clean tack, and do whatever else you need to for and with your horses. The pool will open at one p.m. each day, and as long as you are finished with your horses, you are free to use it. The gym is open from five thirty a.m. to nine p.m., and you can check the schedule for special classes such as yoga, strength training, and cardio dance.”
I can hear a few of the guys chuckle at the mention of cardio dance.
Faith smiles. “Don’t knock it until you try it, guys. It’s a lot harder than it might sound. And our philosophy here is that if you’re asking your equine athlete for his or her all, then you should expect yourselves to also be on your game one hundred percent. You are in a unique sport with a unique partner, and you are both expected to be in optimum shape. You’ve all been given the book of rules, so I don’t need to go over them unless anyone has questions. Anyone?”
“I have a question,” says a guy with reddish-blond hair. I notice his wrinkle-free oxford shirt and recognize him as the preppy kid who’d heckled Lydia and Tristan when they were having their oh-so-sweet reunion next to the airport shuttle.
I can tell by the way he’s raising his hand that he’s probably about to make another joke.
“Sure, Wills, what is it?” Faith says.
Wills? I didn’t know anyone gave kids names like that anymore.
“Is there a rule against bringing our horse with us to cardio dance?” This gets chuckles from everyone.
Faith smiles slightly but shakes her head. “Against the rules,” she says. “Other questions?”
A few giggles.
“I know Wills was joking, but this is as good a time as any to remind you how seriously we take discipline at Liberty Farms. The rules are the rules. That includes things like getting caught in the opposite sex’s room after ten o’clock curfew. Break these rules, and you could face being expelled from the program.”
“Ouch,” Wills says. “Okay, so I’ll go to cardio dance alone.”
More laughter. Faith can’t help but smile broadly.
“All right then, if there aren’t any more questions regarding the rules, I say we introduce our coaches for the summer.”
I feel anxiety in the pit of my stomach knowing that my father will probably be among those introduced. I twist my hands together but try to keep my eyes trained on Faith, rather than search the room to see if he’s walked in.
“I know there were bios in the binders you received,” Faith says, “but we’ve made a few changes, so I’ll talk about those first. To start, I’d like to introduce Tiffany Parker, who will be with us this summer in place of Kim Skinner, who had to withdraw for family reasons.”
I don’t wait for Faith to say the obvious—that Tiffany actually got this job because she and Joel’s dad recently bought Liberty Farms. It would seem tacky, so that little fact is clearly going to be swept under the rug.
Faith continues, “I know many of you were looking forward to working with Kim, but we are very lucky that Tiffany could step in. She has taught at Liberty before, but most recently was on hiatus. Her family has recently purchased the facility. Tiffany comes to us with a successful background in the hunter and jumper world, so she’ll be working with you in your stadium jump lessons . . .”
I didn’t hear much more of what Faith went on to say about Tiffany—about her awards and accolades and accomplishments—because all I could think about was the accusations against her. Of course, she’d never been convicted of drugging ponies. But I knew she’d done something awful to the pony that Melody had shown me last semester; and I’d seen with my own eyes how coldly she’d threatened to separate Joel from his horse. I can feel my ears growing red, which is something they tend to do when I start to get angry. This isn’t good at all. The last thing I want is Joel’s wicked stepmonster coaching me in any situation. And it is awful that she owns the place—or, at least, Joel’s dad does. Now I know the truth: the fancy Southern-style mansion on the hill belongs to the Parker family.
I think I might be sick! The last thing any of them deserve is to own this historic place and live in a beautiful house while my friend is six feet under. I take in a deep breath and work on keeping my cool.
The sight of Tiffany standing up there all
blond, tan, and perky makes me want to gag. “It’s so wonderful to be home. My family and I have just returned from a few weeks in Hawaii.”
That explains why Austen hadn’t seen or heard of any of them. This revelation makes me even sicker. A few weeks in Hawaii! Who does that? And who does that shortly after their son has died? I can’t imagine what Joel’s father is like.
Tiffany continues, “I’m so looking forward to working with each and every one of you. It’s going to be a fabulous summer.”
Oh brother. As I witness the spectacle of Tiffany Parker greeting us, a horrible thought occurs to me. Did Kayla send Melody here because she’d sold the horse back to Joel’s father and Tiffany? I pray that isn’t the case. I love Melody too much to see her put into the hands of such horrible people.
The next intro at least makes me happy when Faith says, “Among our other very capable and excellent coaches is one man who some of you work with on a regular basis already, but we are happy to have him here. Holden Fairmont.”
A second later, Holden jogs up to join the group at the front of the room, waving and smiling at us. “Thanks, guys. We’re all going to work hard and have a great summer.” He steps back and Faith continues detailing Holden’s accomplishments, which I’m already aware of.
She then introduces Bernard Richardson. Just his presence alone is kind of intimidating. He’s tall and lithe, with graying hair and dark eyes. I glance at Austen, who I know is in awe of the guy.
He also tells us how hard we’re going to work, and what a great summer it’s going to be. I can’t believe I’ll get to train with him. I definitely don’t like the fact that I’ll have to work with Tiffany, but Holden and Bernard will be great. As I wait for the final introduction, I feel myself holding my breath—thank God Austen broke the news to me last night or the shock of finding out my father will be teaching here might have killed me.