Mac shrugged. “Most of it. But listen, there was another angle besides the life insurance policy itself.”
“Such as?”
“Collecting on the life insurance while he was still worth something.”
“He was a retired champion, put to stud. So his worth was established.”
Mac nodded. “Initially. His progeny, had he had any, would have been worth a pretty penny. And if any had gone on to do anything on the track—” He flipped his thumbs toward the ceiling. “So, when he suddenly goes up in flames—the only fatality in that fire, by the way—the very same night he shows up at Charlotte Oaks, it naturally raised some insurance suspicions.”
“You mean about his viability as a stud?” Rafe flipped through the report again. “Says they investigated his medical records to see if there was any reason he couldn’t reproduce.” He looked up at Mac. “I guess that makes sense. If he was impotent—”
“No babies, no money,” Mac finished.
“And?” Rafe skimmed the documents.
“He had good swimmers.”
“Did they take any samples for future use?”
“No, just the samples for medical evaluation. They would have, eventually, but he’d only just gotten there.”
“So, no insurance fraud there. What’s the hang-up with the life insurance?”
“Divorce.”
Rafe looked up, eyebrows raised. “Divorce?”
“Gene Vondervan, owner of Charlotte Oaks, was served with papers a week after his purchase of the horse went through, which was a couple weeks before the horse was delivered from Kentucky.”
Rafe tapped the papers against his hand. “That sounds potentially messy.”
“Divorces between people with a lot of money and assets usually are.”
“So, now we have potential sabotage as a means of reducing assets?”
“Or just plain vindictiveness if one party didn’t want to share with the other.”
“Seems rather extreme, especially from someone who has made his fortune from horses. Is there anything in there about the horse being central to their divorce settlement?”
“I don’t know. Nothing in that report other than the notation that the owners are in the middle of divorce proceedings, warranting further exploration.”
“What was the deal with the kerosene tank?”
“It was in an adjacent storage shed, but it looks like the final report will be inconclusive as to whether it was tampered with.”
“Why is it taking so long to get the reports done?”
“Apparently the Vondervans are complicating things, tying it up in court, hiring independent investigators. As you said, people with money…”
“Anybody else hurt besides the horse?”
“No, which is suspicious in and of itself. A brand new multimillion-dollar acquisition, there should have been all kinds of people around him.”
Rafe looked at the first page of the report. “Says here the fire started around three in the morning. How many people would have been out there at that time?”
“At least four. Because of the intense media coverage surrounding his retirement and subsequent sale, he was put in an outer set of stables that weren’t currently in use. They were installing a full security and monitoring system, as they have in their main stables, but it hadn’t been completed yet. According to the report, after he’d been brought in, checked out, and settled in his stall, they’d assigned one of the head trainers and a few stable hands to stay with him that first night.”
Rafe looked up. “Same guy, by any chance, that Elena listed as her reference? John?”
Mac shook his head. “Different trainer. JuanCarlo something-or-other. From the report, Geronimo had traveled well from Kentucky and hadn’t had any issues with his new surroundings. Other than the media coverage, it was all a relatively smooth nonevent. He had a pretty full schedule that first week, both with media, further medical evaluations, etcetera. Which, of course, never happened.”
“So, no other horses, but at least four lives, were at risk. If it was arson, that’s a potentially hefty price tag. Which makes the fact that apparently none of them were there at the time of the explosion pretty suspicious. Any reason the crew responsible for watching him would have done this? Any gains to be made there?”
“Other than, assuming arson, they were being paid by the person who wanted Geronimo dead, no. But they’ve all been interviewed. They were found guilty of negligence and are all facing possible civil suits from Vondervan, who terminated their employment, but none of them are currently under suspicion with the police.”
“They really think it was an accident, then?”
“I wouldn’t say that, or they wouldn’t still be hounding away at this. But the Vondervans’ investigators are making sure they have a lock-tight case otherwise, and, as yet, it doesn’t appear the locals can put one together that’s beyond doubt.”
Rafe gave up reading the file. “What is the story on why nobody was there when the tank blew?”
“The trainer was called down to the main stables.”
“At three in the morning?”
“Supposedly a horse cut himself pretty badly kicking at his stall door. The trainer on duty in the main stable was relatively new and wasn’t sure if it warranted calling in the vet, so he called the other guy down.”
“And was the horse hurt?”
“Yes. Needed stitches. They called the vet in, so it’s documented.”
“And I’m assuming Geronimo’s trainer stayed at the main stable while the vet was in transit? What about the other three on duty with Geronimo?”
“Standard ‘while the cat’s away, the mice will play’ story. When they found out the trainer wasn’t coming back up for a bit, apparently they slipped off to play cards with a few of their coworkers.”
“Leaving the horse completely unattended.”
Mac nodded. “He was settled in for the night, and no one was around. I guess they figured no harm, no foul.”
Rafe nodded. It all made sense, everyone accounted for. But his radar was still pinging for some reason. “So, what do your instincts say? An accident, and it’s just lucky no one else was hurt? Or premeditated sabotage?”
Mac turned away from the window. “I’m really not sure what to think at this point.”
“Come on, your gut must be telling you something.”
“Sounds like everything points toward an accident. There are some coincidences, with people being gone at key moments, but coincidences do happen.”
“So, you’re buying an accident, then.”
“I’d want to see them keep on digging, find out more about the divorce settlement, make sure there aren’t any additional players we don’t know about who might also have had a stake in Geronimo’s well-being. But, at the moment it feels soft to me. Nothing off enough to really get my juices flowing.”
“What about Elena?” He lifted the report. “Any mention of her in this?”
Mac smiled. “I was wondering when you’d get around to that.”
Rafe didn’t rise to the bait. “Yes or no? She is the only reason we’re even looking into this,” he reminded Mac.
“You’re no fun.” At Rafe’s scowl, Mac just laughed. “No, no mention other than showing up on the employee list. She worked for the trainers, exercising the horses. Her job didn’t have anything to do with Geronimo and never would have. As far as I know, and none of the reports filed to date have mentioned anything different, she never had any contact with the horse.”
“Was she interviewed by investigators?”
“Only in the employee roundup. Nothing beyond that.”
Rafe fell silent, wishing like hell his instincts were quieting with this new information. Unfortunately, they weren’t. It’s not like he wanted her to be involved in anything that would jeopardize her working for Kate, but none of this had a good feeling to it.
“What’s rolling around in there?” Mac asked, making a knocking mot
ion in the direction of Rafe’s temple. “Has Elena done anything to make you suspicious? Did you find out anything new during your lesson?”
“No. Nothing specific. If anything, she came across as a very direct person who doesn’t hide anything or pull any punches. It’s just…I can’t shake the feeling that something is off about all of this.”
“Is it because you’re finding out she’s more your type than you’d expected and you don’t want any nasty surprises later if you let yourself get into this?”
Rafe was all set to shoot Mac’s smug-assed theory down…only it made a hell of a lot of sense. “Maybe,” he said, clearly surprising Mac. “What? I’m just being honest. She’s…different. Still not my type,” he added, “but not like anyone else I’ve ever met, either.”
“Well, well, well.” Mac folded his arms, his grin going from smug to shit-eating.
“I don’t even want to hear it, okay? It’s a case to me at the moment. Nothing more. Not at this point, anyway.”
“After the reams of grief I had to endure from you over Kate, if you think I’m not getting some back, you’re crazy.” Still smiling, he snatched the file from Rafe and slapped it on his desk. “All’s fair in love and war.” He walked to the door. “Rafe and Elena, sittin’ in a tree…wait, sittin’ on a horse. Yeah, that’s it.” He was humming as he walked down the hall. “Hey, what rhymes with horse?”
“Go to hell.”
Mac’s laughter echoed until the door at the other end of the hall snapped shut.
Rafe started to pick up the file, but wandered over to his office window instead, his gaze drawn unerringly down to the stables. He wished he could say for certain it was just his self-protective instincts kicking into gear. But something was all wrong about this Geronimo thing. He felt it. Too many coincidences. And too many coincidences, no matter how logically explained, usually meant trouble. Trouble that seemed to have more to do with the Vondervans, and nothing to do with Elena, but he couldn’t make that go away, either.
He punched the intercom that linked most of the main buildings on the property. This one went to Mac’s office. “Hey, what do you think about the timing of her leaving?”
“What do you mean? It was a couple months later. A bunch of employees left after the fire.”
That got his attention. “Really?”
“File’s right there. Might try reading it.”
“Why bother when you already have? For a guy who wasn’t going to get involved—”
“Kate’s involved, peripherally anyway, so maybe I’m a little interested.”
“And? How many employees left?”
“Well, Geronimo was a beloved champion, and when his death hit the news, Charlotte Oaks was inundated with media attention from all around the world. Mostly within the horseracing industry, but there are a lot of soft hearts out there. And this was a huge human-interest story. The stables became a media madhouse. And then, with all the talk of arson, investigators crawling all over the place, media trucks everywhere, things got hairy. But when word broke about the negligence on the part of the employees, the media had a field day with that. Some employees left right then, to keep their good names intact. Which might have been enough for Elena by itself.”
“Except she didn’t leave right away.”
“Seven or eight weeks. Not all that long, really.”
“How many employees left of their own volition?”
“The farm as a whole employs seventy-some-odd people. According to the report, at least a half-dozen left within the first few weeks after the fire. Add to that the four who were fired, and you get—”
“An almost twenty-percent attrition rate.”
“Plus, if Elena was worried about her horse’s pregnancy, that was another reason to leave sooner rather than later. If she wanted peace and calm for Springer, I’m sure Charlotte Oaks was anything but. From what she told Kate, I think she was on her way out, anyway. Not advancing as she wanted to.”
Rafe absorbed that, and, again, it all made sense.
“Feel any better about it now?”
“I want to,” he said, quite honestly.
“So, dig some more, make sure. Still can’t say I’m feeling it, but I’m not as close to her as you are. You’ve met her, you seem to respect her and like what you know of her.”
“So far. But I haven’t even scratched the surface.”
“Speaking of which, I heard the two of you were in the stables for a pretty long time the other evening.” The intercom crackled a little when he chuckled. “You sure nothing else was…scratched?”
“If you can manage to pull your mind out of the gutter for just a moment—”
“Why would I want to do that? It’s fun down here. You should think about joining in.”
“Thanks. I’ll keep it in mind. In the meantime, can we stay on topic here?”
“What topic? So far, we’ve got nothing.”
“Maybe your instincts have just gone soft because all that sex with Kate has addled your brain.”
Mac’s laugh had Rafe leaning back from the speaker. “If that’s the case, I don’t want the cure, man. Love is a beautiful thing.”
Rafe rolled his eyes. “Oh, brother.”
“You know, envy doesn’t become you.”
“Very funny.” Rafe clicked off and started looking through the report again.
A few minutes later, Mac popped up at his door. “You’re going to keep on this, right?”
He was serious now, as was Rafe. He sighed as he kept flipping through the file. “Yeah. For now.” He shrugged. “I know she says she’s here so her horse can rest, but it doesn’t feel like she’s resting. And she doesn’t strike me as the resting type. She’s spent a lot of years building her career—seems to me she could do that and find a peaceful place for her pregnant horse at the same time.”
“What does it feel like, then?”
Rafe looked up then. “It feels like she’s hiding.”
“From what?”
“I don’t know. But that’s what I plan to find out.”
Chapter 8
Elena stifled a yawn behind her hand. She still had a good couple hours of work ahead of her, and then some time spent with Springer after that. All she really wanted to do was curl up somewhere and sleep.
But the dreams were back. In the past week, she was averaging three or four hours a night, tops. As tired as she was when she crawled into bed at the end of each day, falling asleep hadn’t been much of a problem. Staying asleep, however, had once again become a challenge. The nightmare usually woke her up around two or three in the morning. And there was no sleeping after that.
She should be past it by now. And she had been. Since coming to Dalton Downs and settling in, the nightmares had pretty much gone away, even if her need for caution had not.
She wanted to believe it was just Springer’s impending due date resurrecting everything, but she could pinpoint exactly when they had come back. The night of Rafe’s first, and so far only, lesson. Couldn’t be a coincidence.
She just wasn’t entirely sure why. Yes, she’d been nervous about him sniffing around, but other than the inferno-level physical attraction between them, nothing had seemingly come of it. And, apparently, nothing was going to come of the combustion between them, either. It had been over a week since their lesson, and he’d yet to even make contact to set up another one. As far as she knew, he hadn’t been watching her in any way, either. And after the way he’d affected her during their initial lesson, surely she’d have sensed it if he was.
But while it was true that the way she’d responded to him had made her feel more than a little vulnerable, it shouldn’t have been enough to trigger the nightmares. At least, she didn’t want to think so. She’d finally convinced herself she’d come to grips with all of it, even if she hadn’t exactly figured out a game plan about what she was going to do after Springer finally gave birth. Now, she felt like she was, if not back at square one, certainly not as safe and secur
e as she had been feeling.
She’d thought about seeking Rafe out, pinning him down on a second lesson time, just to settle the…unsettled air. One way or the other. But what if her prodding pushed him to take another lesson that he might have otherwise never scheduled? She had quite a lot on her plate at the moment. So, far be it from her to encourage him.
But working herself to the point of exhaustion wasn’t doing the trick, either. She was going to have to do something.
“All set.”
Elena whirled around to find Tracey standing there with Bonder. Crap. She’d forgotten all about her scheduled session with him. She wanted nothing so much as to tell Tracey to take him back to his stall.
But with two sets of puppy-dog eyes staring at her, there was no way she was going to be the bad guy.
“Okay, I’m ready. Thanks for getting him. How was he?”
Tracey rolled her eyes. “Well, he’s a real pro at not wanting to come out of his stall. I had to bribe him. Again.”
Elena sighed. “I really don’t want him getting used to—”
“He settled right down. I, uh, only had to use one.”
She looked from Tracey to Bonder, who was still smacking his lips. And whose tongue was no doubt purple in color at the moment. “I thought we agreed we’d switch him to healthier snacks.”
“Grape Popsicles aren’t the worst thing in the world—” Tracey began.
“But the begging situation it creates is unhealthy, and he’s facing enough of an uphill battle as it is.”
Tracey’s shoulders slumped a little as guilt colored her face, but Elena saw the way she looked at Bonder and relented. A little. “We need to wean him onto something else,” she said, as sternly as she could. Which wasn’t all that stern, given the way Tracey perked up immediately. “Try apples. Real grapes. Anything that’s not processed sugar.”
“I will. I promise.” Tracey looked up at the horse and stroked his mane. He shied a little, but tolerated the gentle attention.
He was improving, and at a better rate than Elena had hoped, and part of that was due to Tracey’s assistance. She had a touch that was both natural and gentle, both of which were perfect for a horse like Bonder. With the classes picking up as the weather grew increasingly warmer, Elena hadn’t had as much time to work with him, but the daylight hours were growing longer, so her schedule could expand accordingly.
The Black Sheep and the Hidden Beauty Page 9
