Double Exposure: Kovak & Quaid Horse Mystery Series (Kovak & Quaid Horse Mysteries Book 1)

by Toni Leland

  Quaid sat back and contemplated the screen. He was giving Jasper Martin the benefit of the doubt, but his gut was telling him the guy was responsible for the whole thing. Quaid would bet his Silver Star that the horse Jasper loaded onto the trailer was not Talisman, or he’d arranged for it to happen along the way somewhere. Why else would the man avoid telling Quaid exactly what the secret identification mark was?

  Quaid looked at his list again. Though Teri Fortune might be in financial distress, he doubted that she had the balls to be consciously involved in something that could ruin her life. That she’d willingly turned a blind eye to the fact the horse wasn’t injured gave Quaid pause for thought, but it basically only amounted to petty thievery. And Jasper probably knew she needed money and wouldn’t pursue the issue of a perfectly sound horse being sent to her for healing therapy. Again, Jasper was looking good for it.

  Quaid switched from the browser to his secure access to state records. Arrests, convictions, and sentences were all available to the public, but most folks didn’t have a clue how to go about getting the information, and calling city hall was a joke. The average citizen had a limited knowledge of how to use the computer to do such things, but Quaid’s PI license gave him a lot of advantages.

  Roberta Dodge popped up in the first search. Typical hard-luck-story girl, high school dropout, a series of short term jobs in bars and taverns, and a couple of stints as a stall cleaner. Two arrests for drug use, one for disorderly conduct. No jail time served. How the hell had someone like that become Teri Fortune’s barn manager? She must have been willing to work for practically nothing. He shook his head and jotted down her last address in a place called Valeville in southern Ohio, just about one of the poorest areas in the state. He’d have to do some legwork on this one, but he needed to hear what the woman had to say about the delivery of the fancy horse from California.

  The closest police department was in Shawnee, about thirty-five miles from Valeville. According to the information, the station was staffed on a rotating basis. The phone number rang six times before a man answered.

  He sounded fairly young. “Shawnee police department.”

  “This is private investigator Garrett Quaid. I’m trying to locate a young woman who lives in Valeville, but I don’t find any law enforcement contacts there.”

  The officer laughed. “Valeville has a gas station. Period. We’re as close as you’ll get. What’s her name?”

  “Roberta Dodge.”

  “Name doesn’t ring a bell, but you might call the old guy who owns the gas pumps there. He’ll know who she is.”

  Quaid wrote down the number, said thanks, and glanced at his watch. Getting an early start sometimes worked against him. No one would be up yet in a one-horse town.

  A gravely voice answered. “Barker’s. He’p ya?”

  “I hope so. I’m lookin’ for an old friend who lived in Valeville. A guy in Shawnee said you might know her. Roberta Dodge?”

  The voice became wary. “Whatcha want ’er for?”

  Quaid tempered his tone, trying to sound casual. “We hooked up a few years ago, then I lost track of her. I’m back in the area, so was hoping I could find her again. Do you know her?”

  The voice cackled. “Yep, I know ’er. Yer probably better off just movin’ on through. She’s a passel o’ trouble.”

  Quaid chuckled. “Yeah, I remember she was a piece of work. Well, anyway, you know where she lives?”

  “Out highway seventeen. When she ain’t in jail.”

  Quaid mumbled his thanks and hung up. He checked the time, then dialed United Equine Assurance. A young woman’s voice answered.

  “Travel, Becky speaking.”

  “Hi, it’s Garrett Quaid. I need a flight to Los Angeles.”

  “Oh, hi Mr. Quaid. When did you want to go?”

  “This coming weekend.”

  “Oh, boy, lots of luck with that. It’s the Fourth of July on Sunday. You have any idea how many people are—”

  “I know, just get me something.”

  While he waited, Quaid’s thoughts wandered to Dixie. What would she be doing for the big celebration weekend? He knew almost nothing about her. She had a mother, he knew that much. Would there be a family picnic somewhere? Would she have to work the weekend, watching for drunk drivers? Then he remembered she was training for the K-9 unit, and so thrilled about not being on regular duty any more.

  “Mr. Quaid? I can get you a flight Thursday with a return on Tuesday morning.”

  “That’s two extra days.”

  “I know, but there are no seats on Friday or Monday, except first class.”

  “So put me in first class.”

  “You’re not cleared for that. You’d have to pay for it yourself.”

  Quaid thought for a minute, then decided he could certainly put the extra time to good use.

  “Okay, I’ll take the Thursday and Tuesday flights.”

  “Your tickets will be at the Delta express counter. Do you need hotels or a car?”

  “Oh, yeah, get me a car reservation. I’ll take care of finding a motel myself.”

  He said goodbye and immediately dialed the transport company in Oregon. A gruff recorded voice informed him that the office was not staffed until noon, but to leave a message and someone would call him back.

  The phone rang and Jenna’s number appeared. Soon he would have to try to mend fences with Ricky, but first he’d need to work through the emotional situation with Jenna.

  Her panic surged through the phone. “Can you come over right away? Ricky locked himself in his room and won’t answer me. Garrett, I’m scared!”

  ~~

  Twenty minutes later, Jenna answered the door, her features drawn with worry.

  “Thank God, you’re here. I don’t know what to do.”

  Quaid stepped into the house. “Tell me exactly what happened. Don’t leave anything out, even if you think it’s not important.”

  “Ricky played all yesterday with that thing you bought him. He really loves it. Anyway, after dinner I asked about his schoolwork and he said he didn’t have any. Remember, I told you he has to go to summer school? So I asked again because we’ve been through this before. He gave me some lip and I demanded to see his schoolbag. He just ignored me, so I got it out of his room and brought it downstairs, told him to show me.”

  Quaid noticed her fidgety hands, the fingernails bitten to nubs, the torn red cuticles. The woman was a nervous wreck. Why didn’t he know any of this? Had he been so wrapped up in his own private hell that he hadn’t seen the signs of a family in trouble? His gaze moved from her hands to her face.

  She looked beaten. “We had an argument and, sure enough, his schoolbag was filled with homework papers, some dating back at least two weeks. He hasn’t been doing any of it.” She exhaled sharply. “So, I took away his new toy and grounded him until he gets caught up and brings me proof.”

  “So he’s just giving you the silent act? Sounds pretty normal to me.”

  “It would be, except he wouldn’t answer me this morning when I went to get him up for school. And the door is locked.” Her chin quivered. “He never came out—that’s when I called you.”

  Quaid frowned. “Are you sure he’s even in there? Maybe he climbed out the window to give you a scare.”

  “He wouldn’t have to do that to frighten me. His final words last night were enough.”

  “What did he say?”

  “He shouted, ‘I just wanna go be with Dad!’”

  “Oh crap, Jen! Why didn’t you—”

  Quaid bolted down the hall and took the stairs two at a time. Ricky’s door had a large colorful poster warning intruders they’d be vaporized by Darth Vader. Quaid pounded on the door.

  “Ricky! It’s Uncle Garrett. Come on out, you’re scaring us!”

  The silence set his neck hairs on end.

  “Ricky, dammit, open the door!”

  Nothing.

  Quaid stepped back and threw his shoulder a
gainst the door, nearly falling down when it gave way easily. Jenna came in behind him and they both looked around the room.

  Ricky was not there.

  Jenna sat down on the bed. “I don’t know whether to be angry or relieved.”

  Quaid put a hand on her shoulder. “Has he ever said anything like that before? Have you had any reason to believe he was depressed enough to do something drastic?”

  She bowed her head. “We’ve both had a hard time accepting that Ben’s gone. I might not have seen the signs.” A sob broke through and she looked up at Quaid with brimming eyes. “Do you think he’d really…Oh, God.”

  “Jeez, Jen, I’m sure not the one to know much about him and I’m so sorry about that. But let’s see if we can find him. What time did he lock himself in?”

  “Last night, right after the argument. Must have been about quarter to nine.”

  “And you haven’t seen or talked to him since?”

  She shook her head from side to side, the tears returning.

  “Okay, so he might have run away last night sometime. Would he go to a friend’s house?”

  “Maybe, only I would think the mother would call me.”

  Quaid took Jenna’s arm and urged her to stand up. “You go downstairs right now and call the school. Find out if he came to his classes this morning.”

  While Jenna made the call, Quaid wandered over to the mantel. His brother’s face smiled back and Quaid whispered to the image.

  “I’m so sorry, Bennie. I haven’t had your back, but that’s going to change. I promise I’ll find Ricky and take more responsibility for him.”

  Face to face with the image of his blood brother, Quaid’s chest quaked just like the day he’d walked through Arlington Cemetery alongside the caisson bearing Ben’s body. He could imagine no greater pain, unless it would be losing Ricky too.

  Jenna’s voice came from the kitchen. “Garrett! He’s at the school!”

  Quaid stepped back from the mantel and slowly saluted his brother’s picture. “On duty, Sir.”

  For more than an hour, Quaid sat with Jenna, trying to decide how best to handle Ricky’s defiance. Clearly, the boy had issues that could escalate into something no one wanted to think about.

  “Have you considered taking Ricky to a child psychologist?”

  “I hadn’t thought of it, but it wouldn’t be that easy. The nearest base with that kind of support is in Dayton.” She looked down at her fingers. “But I might have to move there anyway. I’m not sure I can afford to stay here much longer.”

  Quaid reached out and stilled her nervous fingers. “This is serious enough I think you should get an appointment and make the trip. I’ll pay for a motel and your gas.”

  She looked up, defeat masking what had once been a pretty face. Jenna Quaid’s life had drained away like Ben’s blood on the desert sand.

  “Thank you,” she whispered.

  “In the meantime, I think you need to act as normal as possible about this incident. I suspect Ricky will come home today and be apologetic. Maybe not, but in any event, don’t pick any fights with him. Not until we find out if he’s on the brink of disaster.”

  ~~

  Since he was already in the area, Quaid swung by the insurance company to check in with the boss and drop off his expense sheet for the previous week. As he drove through the city streets, he thought about the emotional stability of his nephew. Kids were prone to theatrics when they were upset. Running away or locking the door were not particularly unusual, but veiled allusions to suicide were not to be taken lightly. Was that actually what Ricky meant? Quaid was taking the wording as fact, though he was hearing it second-hand from a hysterical mother. Maybe those weren’t the exact words, and didn’t mean what they sounded like. An idea surged into his head. Maybe Ricky just wanted to visit his father’s grave. He’d never been back since the funeral.

  Quaid pulled into the parking garage under the building. As soon as he could swing it, he and Ricky would take a much-needed trip to visit Ben.

  Chapter 14

  After a frustrating hour online, searching for a flight to Los Angeles, Kim gave up and called the airline directly. Following the many touchtone options, she finally connected with a recording.

  “Thank you for calling Delta Airlines. All our representatives are helping other customers, but we value your business. Please stay on the line for the next available agent.” Music replaced the voice, but soon the recorded voice came on again. “Thank you for your patience. Your approximate wait is 3 minutes.” More music. Another recording of the time remaining, then, a live person came on the line.

  Forty minutes later, Kim hung up. “What ever possessed me to take a job over the holiday weekend?”

  She looked at her notes. The best she’d come up with was a morning flight on Wednesday, getting her into Los Angeles at 5:45, smack in the middle of rush hour. At least she’d have a chance to get settled in Burbank and have a good night’s sleep. Then first thing Thursday, she’d check out Jasper’s operation. Victory might have to wait, depending on how much time she had and how far she had to drive. But Jasper was the highest priority. If she had to, she’d go to Victory Farms on Sunday.

  Miss Kitty appeared from nowhere and jumped lightly onto Kim’s lap, purring loudly. Kim stroked the silky fur, then opened her laptop and went straight to Stolen Horse International. On a legal pad, she drew two columns, labeling one for quality horses and one for pet horses. Working methodically through the most recent additions, she listed fourteen posts that were good show horses, and eight that had been either pasture animals or pets. She printed out all the description pages, her heart aching with the scope of the theft problem.

  Moving to her work table, she spread the pages out so she could see them all at a glance. The first thing that became obvious was that the show horses were almost all nondescript in color and markings. Lots of browns and chestnuts, a couple of snips or a star. No loud pintos or distinctive face markings like blazes. Reasoning took hold. It would be far easier to switch out a horse that looked unremarkable. Talisman’s double was a perfect example. Unless someone knew the horse personally, no one would ever suspect he wasn’t the real Talisman.

  Had someone lost the lovely gelding standing in Teri’s barn? Was a young girl somewhere heartbroken over the theft of her beloved companion? This mess wasn’t just about the theft of valuable horses. Ordinary folks were victims too. Kim returned to her computer and pulled up the photos she’d taken of the horse in Teri’s barn, then moved to the horse theft website. For the next thirty minutes, she searched through all the listings. She’d just about given up on the idea when one photograph caught her eye. She clicked on the image to enlarge it, then held up her own photograph. A band tightened around her chest. Almost without a doubt, a horse named Bandit—listed as stolen six months ago—was the double for Talisman.

  ~~

  Quaid swung by his house to pick up his laptop before heading for the southern reaches of the state. Valeville was a good four-hour drive, and who knew how much farther he’d have to go when he got there. The town was so small it wasn’t even on a map. He sure as hell hoped this Dodge person still lived there.

  Traffic was light on the interstate and Quaid used the time to consider all the ways that Jasper himself might make the switch. To be absolutely certain he didn’t get caught, he’d have to make sure no one was around his barn when he loaded the look-alike horse on the transport van. How would that be possible with a big operation? He’d probably have to arrange to have the horse picked up in the wee hours before the stall cleaners arrived for work. Okay, so would the transport people agree to a pickup at a stupid hour? Probably not.

  Quaid smacked the steering wheel. “Nuts, I forgot to call them back.”

  At least the three-hour time difference for California would be in his favor for the rest of the day.

  If Jasper had loaded the look-alike himself, where was Talisman at that time? Had Jasper already taken him to another loc
ation to be picked up by whomever was helping sell the horse? And how could Talisman’s sale be kept under wraps? The buyer would have to agree to keep the whole thing a secret. So, if the buyer wanted the horse for competition, that would involve false registration papers and change of name. Plus, wherever the “secret mark” was, it would have to be removed. Well, not really, because the only person who knew about it was Jasper, and he…

  This was getting way too confusing. Stay on track that Jasper is behind the switch.

  But what if he isn’t?

  Quaid was so wrapped up in his thoughts that he almost missed the ramp to I-70. He focused on the scenery, his mind wandering back to his childhood and the homestead that lay only a few miles to the east. He’d spent his teen years plotting and dreaming of getting out of that dump. At the time, he’d been sure he never wanted to see another steer in his life. Cattle ranching was not where his aspirations lay. At the time, he hadn’t known exactly what aspirations were, but he’d known that something better waited for him out there somewhere. Guilt crawled into those thoughts. His mother had struggled with the small ranch operation for years after his dad died in a freak farm accident. Quaid and his brother had worked their butts off, but unlike Quaid, Ben never complained. Then he’d joined the Army. Quaid was furious at being left behind to shoulder the whole thing. By that time, their mother was too old to do much more than cook and do laundry, so she finally agreed that the livestock should be sold. After that, there was nothing to keep Quaid there and, within a year, he followed his brother into the service. His mother died six months later.

  He swerved into the right lane, barely making the exit into Zanesville, and leaving the memories behind.

  ~~

  Teri Fortune didn’t answer, but why didn’t the farm’s answering machine pick up? Kim dialed again, worry growing in her mind. Still no answer and no way to leave a message. Grabbing the printed description sheet for Talisman’s look-alike, Kim headed for her car. With all that had been going on with Teri’s business, trouble might be brewing.

  Forty minutes later, Kim pulled up in front of the big white barn. The parking area was empty—surprising because the lot usually held at least two or three cars at any given time. Kim pulled out her phone and tried Teri again. Still no answer. Picking up Bandit’s page, she climbed out of the car. For a weekday, it was unusually quiet. A few birds twittered and a dog barked somewhere in the distance. Kim’s wary instincts kicked in and she automatically patted her hip, mildly annoyed that she couldn’t seem to rid herself of that ingrained response to the unknown.