by Toni Leland
His cell phone rang as he entered the kitchen, and his sister-in-law’s number appeared on the screen. Jenna only called when there was a problem. He took a deep breath, then answered in a deep, gruff voice.
“Private Detective Garrett Quaid of the Fraud Squad. What is the nature of your business?”
Jenna’s tone indicated that she was not amused. “In case you don’t remember, Ricky’s birthday party is on Saturday. Are you planning to be here?”
Quaid winced, acknowledging Jenna’s unspoken accusation, remembering a couple of other birthdays he’d missed. Not because of time conflict, but because he’d bailed at the last minute, unable to cope with the turmoil churning through his life.
“Absolutely. I’m working on an out-of-town case right now, but I’ll be back by the weekend. Does the kid still love Star Wars?”
“That was several years ago, Garrett. He’s twelve now.”
Quaid swallowed the uncomfortable lump rising in his throat. “I’ll come up with something good, I promise.”
He said goodbye, then sank into his favorite chair, blinking hard at the sting behind his eyelids. How could something that had once been so right, now be so horribly wrong?
Chapter 7
When Kim arrived at Teri’s barn the next afternoon, two vehicles sat in front, a dark blue late model truck and a black Cadillac with a rental sticker in the back window.
“Oh, great, I’ll bet that’s Jasper.”
She grabbed her camera bag and hurried toward the barn.
Teri turned as Kim walked down the aisle. “Hey, we were just talking about you.”
Kim glanced at the two men standing near Talisman’s stall door. Her attention moved past Jasper and came to rest on a tall, sandy-haired man who was looking at the horse. Jasper was gesturing expansively as he talked.
Kim turned to Teri. “How long have they been here?”
“About five minutes, just long enough to introduce themselves. You’re timing is great.”
Kim lowered her voice. “What’s the atmosphere like? Jasper looks like he’s being fairly cordial.”
“He’s a master at being everybody’s best friend when he needs something. The rest of the time, he treats everyone like crap.”
As though summoned, Jasper walked across the aisle and smiled at Kim. “Howdy, you must be the photographer.” He stuck out his hand. “I’m Jasper Martin.”
“Kim Kovak. Nice to meet you.” Her gaze moved past him to the other man who was taking pictures of the horse. “What insurance company?”
“United Equine Assurance out of Cleveland. Listen, you were here last week when I discovered the theft, right?”
Kim lifted an eyebrow. “The theft? You know that for sure?”
Jasper’s pleasant expression morphed immediately into that of a bully accustomed to having his own way. He took a step closer, but Kim stood her ground. Their eyes locked and she saw the hard glint of a man with little concern for anyone but himself.
“Lady—”
“My name’s Kim.”
“Whatever. You’ll need to give this guy your statement about the situation.”
Kim glanced past Jasper. “If he wants to ask me questions, I’m more than happy to answer, but I only know what I heard you say to Teri last week.”
Jasper’s face paled, but he didn’t respond.
A deep voice broke the uncomfortable silence. “Miss Fortune, would you bring the horse out so I can get pictures from all sides?”
Teri hurried toward the stall and Kim followed. While Teri haltered the horse, the man came forward and offered his hand.
“Garrett Quaid.”
His large hand was warm, but not as soft as she’d expect for a white collar worker. The skin was firm as though those hands had been working hands. Not heavily callused, but definitely capable hands. A white scar curved across the top of his left hand, intersecting with the last three fingers.
“Kim Kovak. I’m an equine photographer.”
“So I hear. You do much business in these parts?”
She chuckled. “I travel all over the country. Just came back from Kentucky, headed to California next month, then Egypt in December.”
As she talked, she examined his features. He was nice looking, but not handsome. He wore square wire-rimmed glasses. Freckles roamed across his tanned cheeks and, at this close proximity, she could see flecks of gray sprinkled through the short sandy hair. He looked to be about her age, maybe a little younger.
His hazel eyes held a hint of amusement. “Egypt, huh? Never wanted to go there.” He glanced at Teri, standing patiently with the horse. “Excuse me, gotta get back to work.”
Kim noticed Jasper rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet. Why was he so nervous? What he was hiding?
The investigator walked slowly around the big brown horse, snapping photographs from every angle. Garrett Quaid. She was pretty sure she’d heard the name associated with something big. She thought for a few minutes, then remembered and shuddered. A terrible barn fire a few years back had grabbed the attention of the region, and Garrett Quaid had been the lead investigator. Kim glanced at Jasper. If he thought he could put anything over on this guy, he was sadly mistaken.
Twenty minutes later, Quaid approached Kim. “Mr. Martin says you were here on the day he discovered that the animal in question was not his horse. Is that right?”
Kim nodded. “I was outside when he arrived. I was not in the barn when he talked to Teri, so I have no idea what he did or did not say.”
Quaid raised an eyebrow. “It was a simple question. No need to be so bristly.”
Kim resisted the urge to tell him exactly what she thought of Jasper Martin and his insurance claim, but she’d learned a while back to put the old Kim behind her.
“I’m here to support Teri. If I can answer any questions that will help her, I’ll do that.”
“Meaning you won’t answer questions that would not help her?”
Kim met his gaze. She could play this game too. A hint of a smile tightened his mouth and he nodded, then wrote something in his notebook.
“Did you take any photographs of the horse in question? It would help verify that the horse in the stall now is the same one he claims was there on that day.”
“I did, but only because he’s a good looking horse.” She smiled thinly. “That’s what I do, sort of an addiction.”
“I’ll need to see those pictures. Would you e-mail them to me?”
Kim did not want to share her photos with this guy. She had no idea what she might have captured on the camera, or how it might help Jasper—or harm Teri.
“I deleted them. They weren’t that great, just snapshots of a horse munching hay.”
Quaid’s eyes narrowed. He’d sensed her lie. Anyone good enough to rout out fraud criminals would have a good ear and an eye for body language. Just like a cop. She didn’t break eye contact. That would give her away instantly.
A knowing smile spread over the investigator’s face. “Well, that’s too bad. Have you ever taken photographs of the allegedly missing horse, Talisman?”
“I might have. I do visit a lot of horse shows. I can look at my archives and let you know.”
He held out a crisp white business card and she pocketed it without looking at it.
He stepped back, the smile gone. “Nice meeting you, Miss Kovak.”
“It’s Ms.”
“Oh, right...it would be.”
Irritation prickled Kim’s neck as she watched him walk toward Jasper. What did that mean?
Teri’s soft voice was close by. “I can’t tell if he believes me or not.”
“That’s the trademark of a good investigator. Never let anyone know anything. Keeps folks on their toes, or puts them at ease so they can screw up.” She looked toward Talisman’s stall. “Teri, do you happen to know how Jasper knew that horse wasn’t his?”
Teri’s face brightened. “Actually, I overheard the agent ask him that same question. Jasper
said that this horse came right over to him.”
“And that means what?”
“Apparently Talisman is one nasty animal. He’s even attacked Jasper.”
Kim narrowed her eyes. “You suppose he abused the horse? They never forget, you know.”
Teri nodded. “That’s a good possibility.” She gestured toward Talisman’s stall. “That horse—whoever he is—has a sweet disposition.”
Kim watched the two men talking. Jasper’s body language indicated that he knew he was in over his head.
“What do you think will happen next?” asked Teri.
“I suspect Inspector Quaid will start digging into Jasper’s business and his past to see if there are any red flags.”
Teri’s tone was plaintive. “What about me?”
“If he turns up anything that looks like you were knowingly involved, he’ll start snooping around your business too.” She put a hand on Teri’s arm. “I wouldn’t worry about it. You’ve nothing to hide, and the truth will eventually come out.”
“How do you know so much about this investigation stuff?”
A deep ache ran through Kim’s thigh, a reminder of why she was standing there.
“I read a lot.”
Outside in the parking lot, Kim looked at the information on Quaid’s business card, then stuffed it into her pocket and climbed into her car. Why had she lied about the Talisman photos? And why was she sure Quaid knew it? Did she have any legal obligation to hand over her work in a non-criminal case? She examined her motives from a personal standpoint. What she didn’t want to do was provide anything that would hurt Teri Fortune. Gut instinct said the girl was not involved, but experience told Kim that she could be so wrong. On the other hand, if her photographs could help snare Jasper Martin, why shouldn’t she let the investigator see them?
From the corner of her eye, she watched Quaid climb into his truck. She started her engine and drove quickly down the lane, wanting to distance herself from the man who’d subtly insulted her femininity. Or maybe he was referring to her in-your-face attitude, a personality trait she could no more help than being female. At least she had the advantage of a law enforcement background. Rent-a-cop Garrett C. Quaid wouldn’t be putting much over on her.
~~
Quaid grinned as he watched the aged black Beemer move briskly down the farm driveway. He’d really pushed Kim Kovak’s button with that last dig. He put the truck in reverse. But she’d asked for it. Nothing he hated more than aggressive women who always seemed to be out to prove something. Too bad. She was good looking.
His thoughts turned to the case. Jasper Martin was smarmy, no doubt about it. Just the type to try to ease a financial strain by pulling an insurance deal. Problem was, unless there was a way to prove that Martin himself had made the switch or gotten someone else to do it, the insurance company would pay the claim.
Quaid shook his head. “A hundred grand. What a way to make a quick buck.” Then he sighed. At least the guy hadn’t torched a barn to get his payoff.
He shuddered and turned off that train of thought, glancing at his watch. Too late to drive home and too early to call it a day. He cruised through the small town, but didn’t see anything that made him want to stay. Maybe he could use this time to find a great gift for his nephew’s birthday, maybe have a good meal somewhere in Columbus. Tomorrow he would go back to Fortune Farms to talk to the owner without Jasper Martin hanging around. Teri Fortune had seemed genuinely upset over the whole thing and Quaid’s instinct told him she was the victim in this mess.
Chapter 8
Kim pulled into the parking space in front of her condo and a hollow feeling moved through her chest as she glanced over at Dixie’s empty spot. Why were emotional issues such a problem? If she and Dixie were to remain friends, Kim would need to share her past, and clear the air about their personal relationship. A hard lump rose in her throat. She really liked Dixie, but not in the way Dixie seemed to want. At least Kim thought she knew what Dixie wanted. But she could be wrong. The only way to find out would be to open the discussion and see where it led, starting with an apology and a not-so-happy “Once Upon a Cop” story.
Miss Kitty met her at the door, meowing plaintively as though she hadn’t eaten in days. Kim laughed and scooped her up, tossing keys and sunglasses onto the hall table. The long shadows of early evening bathed the front deck in soft peach hues, enhancing the brilliant pink begonias in the corner planter. Kim sank into one of the cushioned chairs and gazed out at the tree canopy that gave a deep, secluded feel to the area. The cat purred against her chest and Kim closed her eyes, letting the tension of the day drain away. Thoughts of Egypt drifted through her head and she dozed.
She jerked awake. Was someone knocking on the door? Her head cleared and she heard it again, realizing it was next door. She peered over the railing. A brown sedan was parked in Dixie’s spot, but Kim couldn’t see who was at the door. A sturdy woman came into view and climbed into the car. Kim stared at the emblem on the car door and a hard knot formed in her chest. Ohio Senior Services. Had something happened to Dixie’s mom? Kim whipped out her phone and dialed Dixie’s number. It rang three times, then an automated voice message came on. Kim hung up. She couldn’t leave a cryptic message, especially since she had no idea what might be going on. Surely if this was about Dixie’s mother, whoever that was in the brown car could get in touch with Dixie by phone, or through her barracks.
Kim moved slowly back into the house, feeling helpless and isolated. She jammed her hands into her pockets and stared at the refrigerator. Her fingers touched something in her pocket and she pulled out the insurance investigator's business card. She grabbed a soda from the fridge and headed toward her office.
An Internet search for Garrett C. Quaid turned up hundreds of hits, but the one that knocked her back in her seat was a two-year-old news article about a barn fire investigation in Kentucky where seven horses had perished. The official investigation had been closed with no firm evidence of wrong-doing, but Quaid had continued his quest for the truth, working on his own time and without pay. Through his diligence, he’d discovered a factor that had gone unnoticed during the emotional frenzy of the tragedy and, as a result, a disgruntled horse owner was arrested and charged with arson. The man had eventually admitted that he was mad at the stable owner for not showing his horse in an important horse show.
Kim felt sick. What made people so crazy? Destroying property and beautiful animals over ego? She shuddered, then thought about Garrett Quaid. If there was wrongdoing in this Talisman thing, Quaid would go after it like a pit bull.
Another story farther down in the search was a brief personal profile on his business site. He’d been a private investigator for four years after leaving the Army. She sucked in her breath and leaned closer. He’d been with “The Old Guard,” the Caisson Platoon tasked with escorting the flag-draped caskets to Arlington National Cemetery. What an honor to serve with that unit, care for those fabulous horses, and pay tribute to the nation’s fallen heroes.
She closed the browser window and opened her photo archives. She needed to get those horse show pictures sorted out for Quaid.
First she pulled up the snapshots she’d taken of the horse in Talisman’s stall. Feeling ashamed for lying about it, she examined them closely, then chose two good ones that showed the horse’s body and his head up close. She saved low resolution images to a folder labeled “Quaid”, then moved on to the Washington National Horse Show photos. As she looked at them, she was again disturbed by the two familiar people in most of the backgrounds. Maybe she was just being paranoid, but her instincts told her differently. Several close shots of Talisman, both jumping and in the warm-up ring, showed the horse’s conformation clearly and would be good comparison images for Quaid. Then she examined the people in the background. On impulse, she blurred their faces.
She sat still for a moment, wondering why she felt so proprietary about those people in the photograph. Her instincts were telling her that t
he man and woman in the background were important parts of this puzzle, but she wanted to first check it out herself. Besides, if Mr. Hot Shot Private Investigator was as good as everyone said, he’d find them without her help.
Five minutes later, the pictures were on their way to Garrett Quaid.
Her e-mail alert chimed and she opened the latest issue of HorseNews. The top headline read “National Champion Show Jumper ‘Talisman’ Disappears.”
The rumor mills were grinding away and Kim was certain that Jasper Martin had started them. The story was sketchy, only stating that Talisman had disappeared at some point on a trip from his home barn to a horse show. No mention of Teri’s barn. Jasper had been quoted as saying he was “devastated” over the theft. The article ended with a contact number for anyone with information about the case.
Kim dialed the number. The phone rang several times, then a familiar voice came on the line. “You have reached Jasper Martin at Rocking J Ranch. Can’t come to the phone right now, but leave a message and I’ll get right back to ya.”
Kim hung up and stared at the computer screen without seeing. This whole thing was beginning to get to her. On the surface, it seemed that stealing a horse would be a difficult thing to do, especially a high-profile animal such as Talisman. Just how prevalent was horse theft? What were the motives in most cases? Simply quick money at the killers? The thought sent horror slithering through her chest. She lurched forward and quickly typed “horse theft” into the Google search bar. Over thirty thousand hits appeared and, at the top of the list, an organization known as Stolen Horse International. She was stunned at the scope of the site. What had seemed an unlikely crime was so prevalent as to be almost epidemic. Thousands of horses were reported stolen or missing every year, and a large number of them were valuable show animals or breeding stock. The thieves took horses from pastures, or during outdoor horse shows. Some even entered barns at night and led the horses off the property. Kim scrolled through the news articles, shaking her head. The problem even existed in other countries. Four valuable horses were stolen from a movie set in Russia. Someone just walked in at the right moment and led them away. In the turmoil of movie making, no one had given it a second thought. After all, someone had to care for the animals while they weren’t on stage. Kim read further. Apparently, the animals had been recovered, but the article offered no information about who’d done it.
