by Toni Leland
“That would fit perfectly with my assumption that he’s leaving town. This gives him a big head start.”
“Too bad we can’t put a trace on that big horse trailer he pulls. Wouldn’t be hard to catch up to him.”
Quaid scowled and stepped up close. Real close. “How do you know what kind of rig he has?”
Kovak didn’t step back, but lifted her chin defiantly. “I drove by his place. So shoot me.” She turned and started to walk away.
“Hold on, I think we need to talk. No point in getting huffy.”
She stopped and stared at him for a moment. “Okay, but I’m starving, so whatever you have to say, it’ll need to be over dinner.”
Quaid turned on the charm. “Let’s go.”
Chapter 22
Kim slid into the passenger seat of Quaid’s rental car and glanced over at him. Her initial annoyance had faded and she was more than a little surprised to realize that she was pleased to see him. Nothing romantic, just nice to see a familiar face in a strange place. And actually, she was glad to have a chance to hash out the Jasper thing. Maybe between the two of them, they could come up with some kind of answer.
Quaid started the car. “You up for Mexican? There’s a place just across the road.”
“Anything sounds good right now. I had one of those awful hotdogs for lunch.”
“You know, they make those things outta horsemeat.”
“That’s not funny!”
In spite of herself, Kim laughed.
Then, she sobered. “Do you think that’s what’s going on with these stolen horses? Slaughter?”
He glanced over, his expression tight. “I think the only criminals who steal horses to sell them by the pound are the desperate ones. I believe we’re dealing with a motivated person or group with a loftier plan. Horses like Talisman are worth a lot more than their weight. Especially to foreign buyers.”
“I have a friend in Arizona...actually, she’s Egyptian, but spends part of the year here. Anyway, she and her husband also mentioned the international market for good performance and breeding horses. Could be our answer.”
Kim heard her use of the word “our” and Quaid’s reference to “their” case. Satisfaction seeped into her head. She was back at the work she loved most, and with a good-looking partner to boot.
The restaurant parking lot was almost full. Kim fell into step beside Quaid and inhaled the fabulous southwestern aromas drifting on the air.
Quaid held the door for her. “Your Egyptian friend might be able to give us some foreign contacts.”
Kim rolled her eyes. “She’s terrified that she’ll be targeted by whoever is stealing these animals. She even has armed guards posted at her stalls during horse shows.”
“Can’t blame her. Once horses are stolen, it’s pretty close to impossible to get them back.”
Kim’s chest caved and she shuddered. “I can’t even imagine how owners must feel when that happens.”
A pretty, plump Mexican girl led them into the dim interior of the noisy restaurant. The walls were polished wood, and stained glass lamps hung on the walls above each booth, the light glowing through the red, yellow, and purple panes. Kim slid into one of the thick padded seats and watched Quaid remove his phone from his jeans pocket. This was Kim’s first chance to look him over. He definitely looked ex-military. Not a hard-nosed veteran with a chip on his shoulder, but rather an almost executive, possibly retired-officer look. She estimated he was well over six feet tall and had clearly maintained a fit and trim body.
She suddenly realized he’d caught her staring and her face flamed.
“Something on your mind?” he said, sitting down.
“Just wondering where you got the scar on your hand.”
Quaid looked down and flexed his fingers.
“Horse stepped on it.”
Kim chuckled. “Funny. No, what really happened?”
“A horse stepped on it. Really.”
“Jeez, I’m sorry. I thought you were kidding. It brings an interesting image to mind, you have to admit.”
He gazed at her a moment. “Yeah, I can see where it would. Actually, it was more of a kick than a stomp.”
A server appeared and took their drink orders, then left.
Kim sat back. “You were saying?”
“Horse was down, we were trying to help. My hand got in the way as he struggled. Clipped me with the edge of a horseshoe.”
Kim watched him as he talked. She wanted to ask more questions, but didn’t want him to know she’d checked up on him. Had this horse incident happened in the Army? Or perhaps Mr. Quaid was also involved with horses in some other part of his life.
Quaid drummed his fingers on the table. “What I can’t figure out is why these thieves are bothering to find doubles for the stolen horses.”
Kim leaned forward quickly, feigning amazement. “There’s more than one?”
He nodded. “At least three other similar cases that I know of for my company alone. They’ve never bothered to follow up on the switches, just paid the theft claim and closed the files.”
“Someone must have known they would do just that.”
Quaid contemplated her for a long moment before speaking. “It’s not a new concept, by any means, but to pull it off requires a network of people. In this case, across the entire country and maybe even beyond our shores.”
Kim’s brain was on fire. Her list of stolen horses, the matchup with horse shows, insurance claims, and a strong foreign market for quality horses. It was beginning to make sense. But how to get to the origination of the scheme? Who were the victims and who were the villains?
~~
Quaid watched Kovak’s face, seeing the wheels turning in her brain. Her law enforcement background would make it almost impossible for her to know the details of the situation without trying to figure out the motives and principals involved. As she listened to him talk, her eyes glowed with the familiar excitement of the chase. He found himself noticing things like the roundness of her lower lip and the glint of lights in her dark red hair. He didn’t see any emotional scars from her riot ordeal, but maybe she’d moved past that time of her life. But it puzzled him that she would leave the force when she so obviously loved police work.
Beers arrived and they held up their glasses.
“To Talisman, wherever he may be,” said Kovak.
“Let’s hope he’s not in a hotdog somewhere.”
“Dammit, quit saying that!”
This time, she didn’t laugh.
“Sorry, I couldn’t resist. Seriously though, I suspect he’s stabled in some rich European’s barn.”
“What I don’t understand is how someone could transport a high profile performance horse without all the official paperwork, registration papers, and so on.”
“You think those things can’t be forged? Come on, you know better. The biggest problem in this scheme would be getting the horse through quarantine and customs here in this country. A lot of people would be involved, so there’d have to be a network of shady characters in place for those situations.”
Kovak nodded. “Yeah, and it’s probably not too impossible to do. I suspect a second-rate veterinarian would be able to make a good living on the shady side.”
“Exactly. Just like that famous Belmont sting scandal.”
Her face brightened. “Tell me. I’m not familiar with it.”
“In the late seventies, a racetrack veterinarian in upstate New York bought three Thoroughbreds from South America. He sold two of the horses to wealthy men, one of whom immediately insured his horse for hundreds of thousands of dollars. Not long after the sale, the vet called that owner to tell him that the horse had fallen and fractured its skull. The owner made a claim and the insurance company paid without a hitch.”
The food server appeared again to take orders. As soon as he was gone, Kovak leaned forward.
“Go on, this is fascinating.”
“In the fall of that year, the vet e
ntered one of the South American horses in the Belmont. The horse was a long-shot with terrible odds, but the vet bet heavily on him to win. He did, and the vet walked away eighty-thousand dollars richer. Unfortunately for him, a journalist in South America saw a photo of the Belmont winner and started investigating. Sure enough, the New York vet’s horse was actually Uruguay’s Horse of the Year, an almost identical twin to the horse that had died. The journalist reported his findings to someone in the U.S. and when the vet was questioned, he said it must have been a mix-up when the one horse died. Of course, the carcass had been rendered and there was no proof of wrongdoing, but the vet was convicted of entering a horse in a race using a false name. He paid a small fine.”
“That’s just bizarre.”
“The hell of it is, that guy did the same thing a few years later. He was never convicted, but he had a cloud of suspicion over him from then on.”
Kovak’s eyes gleamed. “Maybe that’s what’s going on here in reverse. Someone in another country is playing the same game.”
“Could be.”
“So, there has to be a common denominator in Talisman’s case. Someone or something that applies to every aspect of the switch. What would be required every step of the way for this to succeed?”
He nodded thoughtfully, impressed by her logic. “A veterinarian.”
~~
Quaid’s expression changed and Kim knew she’d have to either get in the game or play dodge ball. He put down his burrito and wiped his mouth with a napkin.
“Let’s talk about your visit to Jasper’s place.”
“I only drove by to get a feel for the way he lives. I didn’t go in, but I did see his truck and trailer sitting outside the barn, so I know that much.”
“When was this? Before or after you came to the show grounds and discovered his stalls?”
“Before. That’s why I kept expecting him to show up with horses. If he’s on the run, then that might be a good indication he’s directly involved in the Talisman switch.”
“Or he’s trying to ditch the IRS.”
She leveled Quaid with a solemn look. “With them, you can run, but you can’t hide. My money is on the insurance scam.” She leaned forward. “So, you’ve been here at least twenty-four hours. What have you found out?”
His eyebrows came together. “I’m the one running this investigation, in case you’ve forgotten. I can’t share information.”
Kim slid out of the booth and tossed a twenty on the table. “Knock yourself out.”
She strode toward the door, her chest aching with anger. What a pompous ass. And I almost told him everything I know!
When she reached the parking lot, she remembered that her own car was back at the equestrian center. She could see the entrance from where she stood, so she started walking in that direction.
“Kovak! Wait!”
She kept walking. Heavy footfalls sounded behind her and, though she knew it was Quaid, she still had the instinctive reflex to defend herself. She reached for her hip.
“Wait up. Hey, I’m sorry. That was stupid of me.”
She turned to face him. “Yes, it was.”
His eyes reflected true apology. “I’m just so used to working alone...”
Kim made a point of not responding, just gazing at him as though she were contemplating whether to stay or walk away.
He ducked his head. “Let’s find a quiet bar somewhere and I’ll tell you what I know.”
She blew out a long breath. “Okay, but I need to turn in at a decent hour. First class tomorrow is at 7:30.”
They walked in silence to Quaid’s car, Kim wondering if they’d be able to retrieve the comfort zone they’d had before she got pissy.
Quaid pulled out of the parking lot and followed the signs to downtown Burbank. Kim gazed at the bright lights and heavy traffic.
“I can’t believe how busy this place is. Makes Columbus look tame.”
Quaid chuckled. “Yeah, I don’t think anyone sleeps here. When I was a kid, I couldn’t wait to leave the quiet hills of Ohio and see the world.” He shook his head. “Some days, those quiet hills sound awfully good.”
“Where is that?”
“Little town in Belmont County.”
Kim waited, but he didn’t elaborate.
He glanced over at her. “You?”
“Marietta. And you’re right, those were peaceful times.”
He pulled up to a stoplight and gestured up ahead. “I think there’s a nice place on that corner. Elephant something.” He glanced in the rearview mirror. “If I can just get over into the right lane.”
A bit of quick maneuvering, then they turned the corner and found a parking space on the street. Kim glanced around. There were a lot of people on the sidewalks, but that wasn’t surprising. It was Friday night on the Fourth of July weekend in the heart of California. If anything, there’d be more people later on.
Quaid held the door for her and they entered the lounge. No loud music and only a few customers. They found a booth toward the back and ordered beer.
Kim sat back and crossed her arms. “I’m listening.”
Quaid gave her a long look, then nodded. “I told you I found the barn manager, Roberta Dodge. Teri had fired her for supposedly doing serious drugs in the hay barn, but the woman says no. She thinks Teri was just being a bitch.”
“Teri was anything but a bitch,” said Kim. “I’ve known her quite awhile. Anyone who works with traumatized animals owns a great deal of compassion and forgiveness.”
“I’m inclined to agree with you. I think there might have been something else going on at the Fortune barn.”
Kim’s radar came on. “Like what?”
“I’m not sure yet, but there might have been an affair with a married man. I think Dodge knew something about that.”
Kim kept her face completely expressionless. Sure, she’d agreed to share her information, but somehow she couldn’t let go of this tidbit. She hadn’t had time to follow up on the rest of Teri’s clients and, until she did, she was reserving judgment on Teri’s moral integrity.
Quaid continued. “I think she was involved in the scam.”
Kim shook her head vigorously. “No, I don’t believe that. She was...”
“She was what?”
“Okay, she was having an affair with a married man. Hard to believe someone would kill her over that, but I guess it would depend on who the man was.”
Quaid pushed his beer away and scowled. “And how do you know all this?”
“You asked me to track down Teri’s relatives and, in the course of that task, I talked to a client who had firsthand knowledge of the affair.”
“And why didn’t you tell me this?”
“Oh, you mean during all of our mega-sharing?” Kim snorted. “Besides, it’s your investigation, not mine. Remember?”
“Then why are you meddling? Who are you working for?”
Kim smiled wickedly. “I’m not at liberty to say.”
Quaid’s face darkened, but he didn’t respond. Kim pulled some money out of her pocket and laid it on the table.
“I need to get going. But first, I’m curious as to why you are acting like a cop. Aren’t you simply tasked with verifying that Jasper’s insurance claim is legitimate?”
If she’d hit him alongside the head, Quaid couldn’t have looked more surprised.
As they walked out of the bar, Kim grinned. Score one for Kovak.
The night air was warm and Kim took a minute to adjust to the transition from heavy air-conditioning. Quaid mumbled something about the crowds and Kim looked around, at once surprised by the hundreds of people moving along the sidewalks and into the street.
“What’s going on? Is there a parade or something?”
“Uh-oh, I see a banner.” Quaid’s tone wasn’t comforting.
Kim looked in the direction he pointed and saw it too. A sea of people surged toward them, waving banners and placards saying “Occupy Burbank.” The noise level g
rew and Kim’s heartbeat began to hammer in her ears.
Quaid took her elbow and started to guide her through the crowd that had formed between them and the car. Bumping each other and shouting, people flowed around them like flood waters. Quaid lost his grasp and the throng swallowed up Kim. Panic crashed through her chest and she looked around, trying to see Quaid, but she’d been carried too far into the crowd. She struggled against the forward movement, making no headway, all the while fighting the terror that threatened to knock her to the ground to be trampled. Or shot.
Someone grabbed her and she began to fight with everything she had.
“Kovak! Stop! It’s me!”
Quaid grabbed both her arms and propelled her toward the edge of the crowd. He pushed her up next to a building and she blindly let him guide her to the corner. They hurried down the side street and the undulating swarm of people moved on down the main street.
Kim’s body was shaking so hard her teeth chattered, then suddenly she was up against Quaid’s chest, gasping for air and letting the sobs rise in her throat. He held her tightly, his voice rumbling through his chest.
“It’s okay, you’re safe now. Just breathe.”
Chapter 23
Kovak was silent on the way back to the equestrian center, and Quaid didn’t push it. He’d seen the terror on her face when she’d been swallowed up by the demonstrators. A chill ran over his shoulders. She must have been reliving her tragedy in Columbus. The stimulus of a crowd out of control, her helplessness to do anything about it. He glanced at her profile. She stared straight forward and he could see a glisten at the corner of her eye. She wouldn’t sleep well tonight.
Tough ex-cop, independent woman, but she’d been soft and vulnerable in her fear. He was glad he’d been there for her. And for him. It had been a long time since he’d held a woman in his arms.
Quaid pulled up beside her car and turned off the ignition. “You okay now?”
She nodded, but didn’t look at him. “Thanks for getting me out of that.” Strain showed on her features, but she squared her shoulders. “What’s your plan of attack for tomorrow?”
“I’m going back out to Jasper’s to see if I can learn anything. Do you think we could talk some more after you’re finished with the show tomorrow?”
