The Black Sheep and the Hidden Beauty

by Donna Kauffman

  “You tried to cheat the Vondervans and all of Charlotte Oaks, so you cannot be trusted.” His voice was calmer, but his eyes were still too bright.

  “I didn’t breed her on purpose. It happened by accident. I saw your truck out there that first night and rode her out, hoping I could talk you into letting me see Geronimo. But no one was there—you were up at the main stables because of that injured horse. So I let myself in. I didn’t know my mare had come into season early, and when I let myself into Geronimo’s stall—”

  “Are you mad? Why in the hell would you do something so foolish? You know better than that. I don’t believe you’d be that stupid.”

  “I was that stupid. And I panicked. I took her back to her barn and was trying to figure out what to do. I would have told Gene, I would have done the right thing, but then everything went to hell when the explosion happened.”

  He said nothing, apparently taking in her explanation, then, “You stayed. After. Why?”

  “I was praying she wasn’t pregnant—then it would all be moot. I couldn’t come forward because there was talk of arson and I was afraid they’d think I’d done it because I was out there, and because of what happened. I couldn’t risk that. When I found out she was pregnant, I decided to leave. I’d already decided to anyway, even before Geronimo came.”

  “I knew nothing of this—you hadn’t given your notice or discussed it with me.” He jabbed the gun at her. “Don’t play me for a fool.”

  “I wasn’t going anywhere at Charlotte Oaks, JuanCarlo. You know that—you’re the one who promoted people over me. Not that I would have done anything because of that,” she hastened to add. “I just knew I wasn’t going to reach my goals there. I hadn’t worked out where to go yet, so I hadn’t talked to you. Then everything happened and I wanted to be gone before she started to be obviously pregnant.”

  He fell silent again.

  It occurred to her that he hadn’t accused her of setting the fire to cover her tracks. Which told her one of two things: either he had set the fire, or he knew who had.

  “How—how did you find out? About the baby?”

  “It doesn’t matter how I found out.”

  “Maybe it will help me figure out where she might be.”

  He didn’t argue with her this time, or call her a liar, which she took as a sign of progress. If she could get him talking, keep him talking, the more she learned, the better chance she had at finding her way out.

  He waited so long, she thought he was going to refuse, but in the end, he said, “It was your own employer who gave you up.”

  “Kate?”

  “No,” he sneered. “Your boyfriend.”

  So, it had been Rafe’s snooping that had tipped them off. It didn’t matter now. Nothing mattered except staying alive.

  “It surprised me,” he went on, his tone one of disgust. “I didn’t think you were like the rest. Whores, tramps.”

  “Who are ‘the rest’?” she asked before she could think better of it.

  “None of your goddamn business!” he barked, reminding her how close to that unbalanced edge he was at all times.

  “I—okay. I’m sorry. And I’m not sleeping with my boss. He has nothing to do with my job. I’m not planning on staying on here, so there is no ladder for me to climb. I want back in the race world, just as soon as—”

  “You sell that baby to the highest bidder.”

  “No,” she said flatly. “I could hardly do that without revealing my role that night.”

  “So what was your plan? To keep it, raise it, train it to race, then tell the world?”

  She’d never once thought of doing that, but no one else would believe that. It was a logical assumption. “No, I’d have found a way to get him or her back to Gene. But that was going to be between me and him.”

  He snorted. “Fuck Gene. Why give it to a man who doesn’t care what he does, who he hurts?”

  “Because he owned Geronimo.”

  “No. No, he did not.” He said this quietly. Too quietly.

  She wasn’t sure how to proceed without setting him off.

  “Drive,” he said again. “It is too risky to sit here with the sun coming up. I don’t care what direction you go, but go.”

  His flat tone—and the gun—brooked no argument. She’d been half hoping that if she kept him talking long enough, Rafe, or someone from the farm, would come by and see her sitting in the cab of the truck. She pulled out and headed in the general direction of Kenny’s. It was the only connection she had right now.

  “Who…who would I contact, then?” she asked after they’d been on the road for a few miles. “About the baby, I mean. Who is the rightful owner?”

  “It doesn’t matter,” he said, in that strangely calm way. “You will not be contacting anyone.”

  Ever again—the words her mind heard tacked on to that, and tried not to let sheer terror seize her once again.

  “What are you going to do with the baby, then?” she asked, hoping if she deferred to him as the clear and rightful owner, that would put him at ease.

  “None of your concern. It is the only thing to do to make it right, so there will be no discussion.”

  “Make what right?” She glanced over at him, at the gun, and looked quickly back to the road. Pretend you’re just driving, pretend there is no gun on you, just talk. “Maybe there is some other way.”

  “There is no other way!” he screamed suddenly, making her jump. “Don’t you think I’ve tried everything?”

  “I’m—I’m sure you have,” she said as calmly and reassuringly as she could. She’d always thought of him as a very smart, very focused man. Never once had she thought him crazy, or even close to it. She couldn’t imagine what had sent him to the edge, but her bet was that it was a woman. He’d alluded to tramps and whores. It was all she had to go on.

  He’d said he wanted to make things right, which meant he was on the outs with someone. Maybe it was something else entirely, but she was betting that someone was the woman in question. “Are you getting the baby back to give to the person who owns it?”

  Just asking the question made some of the pieces click into place. Before she could control the reaction, she looked over at him, surprise clearly on her face. Clearly, because he immediately noted it.

  “Do not think you understand anything about this!” he roared, waving the gun again.

  She looked immediately back to the road, but her hands and legs were shaking now. She was on to something here, but it was obvious that it was that very something—or someone—who’d driven him over the edge. Which meant she had to tread very, very carefully. In all her years dealing with highly strung, half-ton beasts, she’d never questioned her skills, or underestimated their power. She tried to reach for that same balance here.

  Which was hard, when her opponent was so very clearly unbalanced.

  “I know what it’s like to care about someone,” she said carefully. “I know what it’s like to want them to care back. It’s the best feeling in the world and I know I’d want to do anything to have it.” She thought about Rafe, about the things he’d said to her, the way he’d made love to her, and then had to shove that away when it made her eyes burn and her throat begin to close over. At least she’d had that much, she told herself. At least she’d experienced the beginnings of something powerful.

  “You know nothing,” he told her. “Betrayal, lies, that is what you know!”

  “If you explain, I’ll help you.”

  He barked a mad laugh at that. “Tramps, whores. I wouldn’t be so foolish as to ever trust another one.”

  “You said I was different from them,” she said, recalling his comment, clinging to the hope she was on the right track with it. “I am different, JuanCarlo. If I wasn’t, I’d have tried that tactic to get ahead at Charlotte Oaks. You know I never did. I never once used that to gain any leverage. I have too much pride for that. You know that about me. It’s why I was leaving, because I would never stoop to tha
t. I earn my way fair and square, not on my back. Never that way.”

  He seemed to think that over, but only said, “Just drive. Quietly. I need peace now.”

  Elena was happy to give it to him. She needed to think this out a little. All along she’d assumed Gene was the rightful owner of Geronimo, and de facto owner of his offspring, as she hadn’t paid for stud. Now she was thinking that a Vondervan was indeed the rightful owner…but that Vondervan wasn’t Gene. It was Kami.

  She forced herself not to glance over at JuanCarlo. She thought about the argument between the Vondervans that he’d told his assistant about, who then blabbed it where she could overhear. She remembered thinking at the time that she was surprised JuanCarlo had gossiped that to anyone, given Gene’s obsession with public image, and JuanCarlo’s loyalty to his boss. But she’d just assumed JuanCarlo was closer friends with his assistant than she’d realized. Now she wondered if that hadn’t been a calculated bit of backroom talking on his part, knowing full well word would get out.

  But what would he have to gain by that? A hope that word would spread, as good gossip does, that the supposedly perfect Vondervan union wasn’t so perfect? And the reason he’d want the schism made public? Maybe Kami wouldn’t leave Gene for him. Maybe it was an affair that had gotten out of hand, with one party wanting more than the other could give. Or maybe his advances had been thwarted, so he was just trying to create trouble for her. Maybe there had never even been a fight. His anger toward the opposite gender suggested he’d been thwarted one way or the other.

  But why would he want the baby? She assumed he meant to give it to Kami. As a peace offering? Had his airing of their dirty laundry—real or fabricated—caused her trouble he was now regretting? She remembered the report stating there had been divorce papers filed, but that had been before Geronimo had died, and the Vondervans were still together. She debated tipping her hand, asking him straight out about Kami, mentioning that she’d filed papers, perhaps add her vote of confidence that maybe it was just a matter of time, and see what that got her. But it was a huge risk.

  Of course, making amends didn’t usually work all that well when the person was willing to kill in order to make them.

  Crimes of passion. It was the only thing that explained his extreme behavior. Only he’d taken the heat-of-the-moment reaction and nursed it into a full-blown obsession. Maybe Kami had seen that in him. Maybe he’d always been unbalanced in that way. Elena had been telling the truth about avoiding socializing with her coworkers, so it was a side of him she wouldn’t have witnessed, first-or secondhand, as she hadn’t been one to even hang out with the crowd.

  A county sign caught her attention. She hadn’t realized how long they’d been on the road, but they were only one county away from Kenny’s place. Another forty-five minutes or so, and she’d be there.

  She could only pray Mac was still there, and would know what to do. She hated putting him at risk, but as a former cop, he was her best bet for survival. It was a risk she had to take.

  She wondered what Rafe was thinking right now. She doubted he was still asleep. She had no idea how he’d read her sudden disappearance, but she could only hope that he’d at least realized she hadn’t left of her own free will. If that was the case, he might well have pulled Mac from Kenny’s place. She tried not to let that thought sink what little hope she’d built up. Of course, JuanCarlo might not let her get past Kenny’s main gate, but she’d deal with that when they got there. He didn’t seem to be paying real close attention to the direction they were heading. She’d have to make sure he stayed that way.

  To that end, she risked speaking to him again. “Do you…do you hope that by giving her the baby, it will make things right between you?”

  “It can never be right,” he said, then seemed to realize what he’d revealed and retreated back to his sulking mood. “I told you, I need peace.” He settled back in his seat, seemingly more interested in whatever thoughts were going through his twisted mind, than her. She noticed, peripherally, that the gun was now resting on his thigh. Still aimed at her, but carelessly so.

  She wished she had the nerve to do something daring, like swerve the truck, leap from the side door, but too many things could go wrong with that plan. Most of them deadly.

  Another fifteen minutes passed without a word. She had no idea how to gauge where he was mentally. He hadn’t badgered her about Springer or the baby, or questioned where they were headed. Maybe their sparring had sent him in a different direction mentally, though whether more or less sane and rational, she had no idea. The way he was just sitting there, brooding, she’d bet on less.

  She was just trying to come up with another conversational gambit to get him talking, to try and get a better read on him, when she heard a distant sort of thumping sound. It took her a few seconds to place the noise, then it hit her. Helicopter!

  They’d gotten Finn to come back. Or something. It had to be. She knew there was enough wealth around, and that Dalton Downs wasn’t the only spread with a helipad, but she had to hope that they’d spotted her. Only…had they? Would they know she was in the truck? She knew it was a Charlotte Oaks truck, but there was no obvious marking. Gene didn’t go for that, claimed it was tacky and crass. But he had had the entire fleet painted a specific shade of tan that wasn’t available through regular purchase. She knew it. And anyone who worked at Oaks would know it—but would Rafe or Finn know that?

  The sun was well up now, and the skies were clear, but as she tried to scan the sky surreptitiously, she saw nothing. The sound faded and she wondered if she’d imagined it. Maybe she was finally losing it. She’d been through enough at this point that it wouldn’t surprise her. But she knew what she’d heard.

  She tried to keep from telegraphing her sudden renewed alertness, staying semi-slouched at the wheel, keeping her hands as relaxed as possible. She did her best to scan her rearview mirror, not chancing a look over at the one outside the passenger door.

  JuanCarlo was still deep in thought, so she maintained the status quo while trying to figure out what she’d do if there was a helicopter, to signal them. Swerve? Flash her lights? Would they see that? Maybe they’d just been flying over behind her on their way to Kenny’s, it being a more direct route by air than by land. Or maybe it was nothing at all.

  Then she heard it again, fainter this time, and tried to strain to hear it without being obvious. Then she saw it! A flash of black in her rearview, there in the far distance, then suddenly gone again. It was black, and small, just like the ones she’d seen them use in the past. They were staying well back, she supposed to keep from triggering a reaction from JuanCarlo.

  Or maybe it wasn’t a Dalton Downs chopper. What if it belonged to someone else involved in this? The Vondervans, maybe? Maybe it was Gene, tracking down JuanCarlo.

  And then they passed the sign for Kenny’s county and, of course, that he noticed.

  “Where are you headed?” he demanded, suddenly alert, and very angry.

  “You said to drive, and so I just started driving.”

  “Where?” He swung the gun up and pressed it directly against her temple, making her jump and swerve a little at the swiftness in his change of mood.

  She righted the steering wheel, surprised her heart hadn’t leapt right out of her chest. “I—I thought we should go to Kenny’s, see if we could find any clues to where he took Springer.”

  “You are planning something. Tell me!”

  She was trying to come up with a plausible story when, very abruptly, a black helicopter lowered and hovered about two hundred yards dead ahead of them.

  He jammed the gun harder against her temple. “What have you done?” he screamed.

  “Nothing—I haven’t done anything,” she yelled back, slamming on the brakes.

  “No, no!” he continued screaming, waving the gun now. “Go around, go around!”

  “I can’t—there isn’t enough room.” She was shaking so hard she could hardly grip the wheel. So much adren
aline had pumped into her system over the last hour or so, she was sick to the point she honestly thought she might throw up right there in the truck.

  “I said go around!” he barked as she continued to slow down. “They will move—they will not chance hurting you.”

  She didn’t know what to do—then she drew close enough to see that Rafe was in the passenger seat. If she was close enough to see him, he was close enough to see her. She had no idea what he thought was going on, but hopefully the gun being waved around at her had given him a good clue as to which side she was on.

  She knew what side she was on. And vowed to make sure he never doubted it. If she lived long enough.

  JuanCarlo was still screaming threats and obscenities, and it was like everything was happening in slow motion. She kept her gaze locked on Rafe.

  He pressed his hands in a downward motion. He wanted her to stop.

  So she did.

  Hard.

  Chapter 29

  Rafe lost another lifetime when he saw the gun pointed at Elena’s head. He never wanted to relive the emotions he’d experienced in the past few hours, but he most definitely would choose them over this.

  He knew who was in the passenger seat. He’d figured it out when he’d contacted Charlotte Oaks a little over an hour ago and asked to speak to him, only to be told that JuanCarlo had disappeared three days ago and nobody knew where he’d gone.

  JuanCarlo had fielded Kate’s initial call, and heard about Rafe’s recent follow-ups when the trainer he’d spoken with had mentioned it to him and speculated about what Elena could have done to warrant such interest. JuanCarlo had done some checking on Trinity, and decided to look into it. He was crazy, but his instincts were solid. He’d been the one to hire Johansson. As Rafe had speculated once he’d uncovered Johansson’s other line of work, he hadn’t been working in his capacity as an insurance investigator—that had been his cover story to get close. He’d apparently called first, using a made-up name, as a prospective client for Trinity, but Mac had filtered him out as someone looking for a handout. Then he’d contacted Kate, with a different name, acting as a parent needing help for his child, and she’d invited him to bring his child to see the camp and talk with her about his needs. He’d shown up without his supposed special-needs child, claiming he wanted to see for himself before bringing his son. It was hard to say how he’d have learned about the pregnancy, but with no one knowing what was going on, it likely had been revealed innocently enough by one of the barn helpers.