A Moment in Time

by Judith Gould

  "I know you didn't, darling," Colette said. "I'm just a bit touchy, I suppose. Forgive me." She paused a moment, then went on. "And Val, I don't think I'll say anything to the police about Teddy. What do you think? Perhaps I should just tell them that you have some ideas that they should discuss with you. Is that all right?"

  "I think that's perfect, Colette," she replied. "I hate to leave you now, but I'd better run."

  "I'll be fine," Colette said. "Now run along. You've got work to do. Oh, and why not leave Elvis here with me? He and Puff Puppy can keep each other company. They get along so beautifully."

  "You're sure?" Valerie asked.

  "Certainly," Colette said.

  They brushed cheeks, and Valerie shouldered her bag. She leaned down and gave Elvis a pat. "See you later, Elvis," she said. Then she rushed out to her Jeep.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Lydia looked up from her desk when Teddy walked into the office. "Thank God, you're here," she exclaimed. "The telephone's been ringing off the hook, and let me tell you, boss, there are some people who want to talk to you real bad. And pronto isn't fast enough. Catch my drift?"

  "Hello to you, too, Lydia," he said with a smirk on his face. He went over to his desk and sat down in his chair, then began rifling nervously through paperwork stacked there.

  She turned to face him, hair aflame with fresh carrot-red dye, eyes flashing brightly with purple shadow and black liner. "Listen, Teddy," she said earnestly, "I'm dead serious. The shit's starting to hit the fan. Or I should say fans, to be more precise. I don't know exactly what's going on, but I've got a damn good idea, boss. And I'm telling you, you'd better get your ass in gear and start making some mighty sweet phone calls. They're going to be asking for your pretty blond head on a nice big platter."

  "You think I don't know that, Lydia," he said angrily. "I don't need you telling me what to do. I've got enough on my mind as it is."

  "Humpf!" she went on, "I've had to listen to old Dock Wainwright all day long. Marguerite de la Rochelle and her nasty-mouthed cousin, Jamie de Biron, want their money back. Plus a half dozen other clients. And I mean they want it now. No wonder you're like a damn cat on a hot tin roof. I am, too."

  Teddy looked at her furiously.

  "I'm telling you, Teddy," she exclaimed, shaking a tangerine fingernail at him. "You're in trouble this time. The brokers are climbing out of the woodwork, calling by the bushel load. Wanting their money. Something to do with your margins, little buddy. Like maybe something to do with all that trading you did on credit and now they want their money. All that money you've gone and lost!"

  "Shut up, Lydia," he cried. "I get the message, loud and clear."

  She stared at him for a minute before replying. "All right," she said angrily, "but I can't take this much longer, Teddy. Seriously. I don't like being part of a sinking ship. And that's what this is. It's the fucking Titanic, and I think I'm going to have to get in one of the lifeboats."

  "Then do whatever the fuck you want," he shouted. "I don't fucking need you."

  "That's all you've got to say?" she cried, rising imperiously to her feet. "I've devoted myself to you for the last six years, Teddy de Mornay. Always going to bat for you, lying for you, cheating for you, and sometimes cleaning up your damn messes so nobody'd know the real you. And that's all you have to say?"

  "Just get out, if you're going," he snapped nastily.

  Lydia stomped one leopard-patterned stiletto heel on the floor with rage, then turned and got her pocket- book out of a desk drawer. She paused dramatically at the door and glared at Teddy.

  He returned her look. "Get out, Lydia," he spat. "Go get that hot young stud you're so crazy about and get him to fuck your brains out. I'm sick of trailer trash around here anyway."

  She looked momentarily stunned. "I may live in a trailer, Mr. de Mornay," she said between gritted teeth, "but you're the trash." She turned and left, slamming the door behind her with a resounding bang.

  Teddy snatched up his message slips and stared at them for a moment. He swiveled in his desk chair with agitation, then started to lift the telephone receiver.

  It rang before he could pick it up, and he waited for the machine to click in so he could screen the call. When his message was finally over, he heard Tiffani and immediately answered.

  "Hey, babe," he said.

  "Teddy, we've got to talk."

  "We're talking, aren't we?" he said with frustration.

  "No, I mean in person, Teddy," she replied. "It's really important."

  "Come on, Tiff," he said huffily. "I'm very busy right now, and besides, we have a big date late tonight. Remember? A really special date. A special little party, just the two of us."

  "I know, Teddy," she said seriously, "but I need to talk to you right away. In person. I-I can't discuss it over the phone."

  "Goddamn. Can't it wait till tonight?" he complained. "I'm really tied up here."

  "Teddy," she said in exasperation, "I have to talk to you now. At my place."

  She sounded as if she might burst into tears. What the hell now? he wondered. Everything was beginning to go sour. But the game wasn't over yet, and he had to protect his little investment in Tiff.

  "Shit, Tiff," he said, "I've got to do some really important stuff here. Make some calls and all."

  "You'll understand once we talk."

  He sighed. "Fuck it. I'll be over in a few minutes."

  He replaced the receiver in its cradle and sighed again. "Shit," he said aloud. "I knew it was time to unload her." He got up to leave, then sat back down. One more call to make, he thought. Do a little potential damage control. He picked up the receiver and dialed the number.

  She answered on the third ring. "Hello?"

  "Marguerite," he said. "It's Teddy."

  He thought he heard a sharp intake of breath before she replied. "Well, hello, Teddy. How are you?"

  "I'm fine," he replied. "I thought I might stop by later and take you out for drinks and dinner. I'd like to talk to you."

  There was a long pause, then Marguerite said, "I think that would be lovely, Teddy, but why not have drinks and dinner here. It would be so much nicer than a restaurant, don't you think?"

  "Great," he said. "I have some errands to run. What if I come on over when I'm finished?"

  "Perfect," she said. "It'll be such a pleasure to see you, Teddy."

  He hung up the receiver, then headed out to the Jaguar.

  That takes care of one bitch, he thought. Now to go take care of another one. Tiffani. What's wrong with her anyway? he wondered. Just when I'm about to get her out of my hair once and for all, she has a problem. Another problem. Just what I need. Oh, well, he consoled himself as he fired up the Jaguar's engine, I'll be through with the bimbo tonight. Yeah, late tonight after I'm finished with her, I'll tell her good-bye forever. Then evict her from the cottage.

  Valerie stomped on the brakes at the gates to Stonelair and reached out and pushed the intercom button in one swift movement.

  "Val?" It was Wyn's voice, not Santo Ducci's.

  "Yes," she replied.

  "Down at the stable," his disembodied voice said.

  The gates immediately started opening, and she inched the car forward until she could finally race between them and on down the lane that led to the stable. She pulled into the parking area, braked with a screech, and cut off the engine.

  She jumped out of the Jeep and grabbed her gear. She could already hear noise coming from the stables. The horses, whatever might be the matter, sounded very disturbed. She saw Wyn coming toward her. His face was still partially bandaged, but his body language did enough to convey his worry.

  "Hey," he called to her, "slow down. I don't want you to kill yourself."

  "I'm okay," she said, approaching him now. "I've never had an accident."

  "And I don't want you to start now," he said. He kissed her lips and put an arm around her shoulders.

  She was thrilled by his touch and couldn't ignore i
t, despite the fact that she was intent on getting to the stable and the horses. She smiled up at him. "I'm glad to see you even if the circumstances aren't the best."

  "Likewise, Doc," he replied. "Why don't you let me carry that bag for you?"

  "No, it's okay," she said. "I'm used to it, Wyn."

  "Okay," he said.

  "Is Santo with the horses?" she asked.

  "He is now," Wyn replied.

  "Uh-oh," she said. "Do I detect a note of anger in your voice?"

  "Well, a little," he admitted. "I was up in the library and thought I heard noise from the stables. I called down there, and nobody picked up. Nobody! The Reinhardts had gone into town to do some shopping, that I knew. The girl who works part-time here had just left, I guess, because it was quitting time for her, but Santo should've been down there and he wasn't."

  They reached the door to the office in the stable complex and went in.

  "Anyhow," Wyn continued, "I called his cottage over and over. He wasn't there. Finally, he picked up and came running down here and saw that all hell had broken lose. That's when I called your office. That girl Tami gave me your cell phone number."

  They went through the tack room and on into the stables, and Valerie was shocked by the state of panic among the horses. She turned to Wyn. "Does one of them seem to be more affected by whatever it is than the rest?" she asked.

  "They're all spooked, some of them more than others," he said. "But they're all acting so crazy it's hard for me to tell. I guess I overreacted a little when I saw what was happening."

  Santo appeared from the other end of the stable, walking toward them. Even from a distance, Valerie could see that he looked very worried.

  He nodded to her as he drew up to them.

  "Hi, Santo," she said.

  "Hi," he replied, then looked away, shamefaced.

  Valerie went to the first stall, set down her carryall and medical kit, then approached the barred door. The horse, Clever Cookie, was highly agitated, rearing and snorting and twitching, his eyes enormous with fear. It was almost as if there were a fire in the stable, she thought.

  "There hasn't been any smoke they could smell?" she asked.

  "No," Wyn said. "None at all."

  "Any loud or strange noises?"

  "Nope," Wyn said, shaking his head. "I've been here, and I would've heard it, too."

  Valerie looked back into the stall. "Hey, Clever Cookie," she cooed through the opening. "Hey, buddy, what's troubling you?" She reached one of her hands past the bars to let the horse smell it, but Clever Cookie didn't even make an effort to approach her. He was totally spooked by something. She noticed the electrical conduit running through the stall.

  She turned back around. "Wyn," she asked, "does the electrical conduit run through all the stalls?"

  He nodded. "Yes," he said, "why?"

  "Is it possible," she said, feeling that she was grasping at straws, "that there's a short or something running through that line, and the horses could've been shocked?"

  "I don't think so, Val," Wyn replied. "The lights are on those lines, and there's nothing wrong with them." He turned to Santo. "Just to be sure, Santo, why don't you throw the circuit breakers for this building?"

  Santo nodded and set off toward the office, where the circuit breakers were.

  "I guess we can give it a few minutes and see if there's any change in their behavior," Wyn said.

  "It's a long shot," she said, "but this is really strange. I've never seen anything like it, except where there's smoke."

  "Me either," Wyn said.

  "I'm going to walk past all the stalls," Valerie said, "and try to spot the horse that's the least spooked."

  She began going from stall to stall, Wyn following along with her, looking into each one, watching each horse for a minute.

  Suddenly the lights went out, and they both flinched. They stopped in their tracks but recovered quickly.

  "That was pretty crazy, knowing that it was coming," Valerie said.

  "This whole situation is pretty crazy," he said.

  There was sufficient daylight coming in from outside, so they continued walking down the length of the stalls, looking in on each horse. When they arrived at Demon's stall, they both noticed that the immense stallion was definitely agitated, but he seemed relatively calm compared to most of the other horses. Wyn began talking to him quietly and reached in, trying to stroke his neck. Demon seemed to want the attention, but he was reluctant.

  Wyn turned to Valerie. "Do you think the lights have been off long enough?" he asked. "Should they've calmed down in this length of time if it had to do with a shock or something?"

  Valerie looked at him and shrugged. "I don't know," she said, "but I would think so. It's been several minutes, and you're here with them. They know you and trust you, so I would think that if that were the problem they would've calmed down by now. But there hasn't been any change, has there?"

  "No," he said. "I'll go tell Santo to turn the power back on. Be right back." He dashed off in the direction of the office.

  Valerie went back to Clever Cookie's stall to retrieve her carryall and medical bag, then walked back down to Demon. She would begin her work with him.

  Wyn and Santo returned from the office, hurrying to where she stood.

  "What're you doing?" Wyn asked.

  "I'm going to need you and Santo to help me tether Demon to the stall," Valerie said. "I've got to get blood from one of the horses for toxicology. Quite frankly, I don't know what else to do. Demon seems to be the least disturbed, so I think he's our best bet."

  Wyn and Santo both approached the stall. Wyn opened the door slowly, and he and Santo eased themselves inside. In a flash, Wyn caught Demon's bridle, and before the horse managed to rear away, Santo clipped on a rein and snapped it to a ring in the stall wall.

  They backed away as the big horse tried to rear. "Demon," Wyn whispered. "It's okay, boy. It's okay." He stroked Demon several times, trying to calm him. Santo left the stall, stepping outside and watching.

  Valerie had retrieved a syringe from her medical bag and slipped into the stall with Wyn.

  "You sure you want to do this, Val?" Wyn asked quietly without turning around. He continued stroking Demon.

  "I have to get some blood," she said, "and I've done it many a time. I'll just stay clear of his hindquarters." She sidled up next to Wyn and began her rhythmic cooing to calm the agitated horse. She reached up and began stroking Demon's neck, locating the jugular vein. She concentrated on stroking him there, then, when he seemed somewhat distracted by their strokes and whispers, she quickly plunged the syringe into the vein and began drawing blood.

  Demon reacted instantly, shifting his feet and trying to rear, but she managed to get enough blood for toxicology, then gingerly backed out of the stall.

  Wyn joined her after a moment. "You're a brave woman, Doc," he said.

  "It's my job," she said, taking the needle off the syringe and leaning down to put it in the special container in her medical bag. She straightened back up.

  "I'm going to call the clinic to come pick this up for immediate testing," she said. "I think it would be best if I stayed here for a while and watched them. See if I can get any inkling of what's going on."

  She slipped the cell phone off her belt, flipped it open, and dialed. "Tami, it's Val. I need somebody over at Stonelair right away. I've got a blood sample that needs a toxicology screen ASAP, and I mean ASAP."

  She listened a minute, then said, "Oh, great. I'd forgotten that you know where this place is. Tell Daphne I want you to pick it up. Somebody will be waiting with the blood at the front gate. Got that?"

  She listened for a moment longer, then pressed the end button, snapped the phone shut, and replaced it on her belt. "Santo, do you mind waiting up at the gate with this for me? It'll probably take Tami about fifteen or twenty minutes to get here, so you don't have to leave quite yet." She held up the vial of blood.

  "Sure," he said, nodding. He
took it from her.

  "I want to take a look at the others," she said, and started slowly walking down the length of the stalls again, first one side, then the other. Every single one of the horses was still in some state of panic.

  "It's just like you said," she remarked, turning to Wyn. "Some of them are more acutely affected than others, but they're all spooked. I've never seen anything quite like it." She looked thoughtful for a moment. "Was anybody in here with them this afternoon?" she asked.

  "Not as far as I know," Wyn replied. He turned and looked over at Santo, who stood near Layla's stall, seemingly distracted.

  "Santo," he said, "do you know if anybody was in here with the horses this afternoon?"

  Santo shrugged. "Tiff was here at work," he said. "I saw her in the office around lunchtime, I guess. I told her I wasn't feeling so hot and was going to go take a few Tylenol and go spread out. She said she had a lot of paperwork to do and would call me if anything came up. Said she might go get a sandwich or something."

  "So you weren't here all afternoon?" Wyn asked.

  "No," Santo said. "I told you, I—"

  "It's okay, Santo," Wyn said. "You can't help it if you were sick." He sighed. "So she was the only person around, right?"

  Santo nodded. "Yes. The Reinhardts had gone into town, so she was alone."

  "After they pick up the blood at the gate, why don't you go give her a call, Santo?" Wyn said. "See if she knows anything."

  "Okay," he said. "I guess I'd better get up to the gate now." Santo turned and walked toward the door to the tack room.

  When he had left, Wyn turned to Valerie. "I don't know what's wrong with him, but he sure isn't acting like himself."

  "How do you mean?" she asked.

  "I can't put my finger on it," he replied.

  "It's probably nothing. Circumstances being what they are, you're probably reading too much into his behavior."

  "Maybe you're right, Doc," he said. "You're a very sensible woman."

  They continued checking on the horses, and Valerie remained perplexed by their behavior. She'd never felt quite so defeated. Nothing in her training had prepared her for anything like this. She hated to let Wyn down, and she felt almost sick at the prospect of not being able to help the horses.