by Toni Leland
“No, it was limited, but I’m going up there. Want me to find out?”
“Yes, I’m tied up at the insurance offices tomorrow, so I can’t go myself.”
“I’ll call you when I get back. By the way, did you give the sheriff that information about Teri’s affair?”
Quaid swallowed. “She wasn’t in when I called, but I left a message. Haven’t heard back, not that I expect to. She likes me so much.”
Kovak chuckled. “Okay, I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
After hanging up, Quaid thought briefly about the time spent with her. He’d enjoyed most of it, but her prickly nature squelched the idea of anything more. Dixie Davis, on the other hand... A stir moved through his gut and he had the urge to call her right then, drive all night if necessary. He could almost taste that sweet little mouth and feel that pink skin stretched over her small round body. The images shattered into a million pieces as his brain took charge, filling his head with images of the girl of his dreams entangled in the arms and legs of another woman.
He jumped up and strode out of the room. “Fuckin’ Kovak.”
Chapter 30
Kim dressed in the darkest colors she could find in her summer wardrobe, then looked through the closet for what she might take to Marietta. She pulled out some things and packed them in a bag on the bed. Such a somber start to what should be a relaxing and fun time, but with all that had happened to Teri, she deserved to have the people she knew at her service. Kim brushed her hair and tossed her makeup case into the bag. Besides, she wanted to find out more about Reginald Fortune. For Quaid, of course.
An hour later, she followed the GPS directions to the Oak Grove Cemetery south of Delaware. As she drove slowly past the rows of headstones, she thought about the last time she’d attended a funeral. Her grandfather’s. How long had it been? She tried to count back, finding that more years had gone by than she cared to admit. A hard lump formed in her throat. She’d never been back to visit his grave or her childhood home in all that time. How could she have just abandoned her history like that? What had she been doing that was so important? What dream had she been chasing? Had she caught it?
A small knot of people gathered on a gently sloping section of the cemetery, a smaller number than she would have expected for a high profile death. As she walked toward them, she counted eight, not including the minister standing at the head of the casket. One man towered over the others. Blond hair carefully styled, trendy eyeglasses, and an expensive suit that had certainly not come off the rack. He had to be the brother. Or maybe he was the lover. But would that guy chance such a bold appearance? Sure he would, if he thought no one knew about his affair with Teri. Kim scanned the other people, noticing a couple of well-dressed women who had “horse owner” written all over them. Two men, one youngish, one old, and both dressed in barn clothes. Former farm staff? A small woman with gray hair sat in one of the folding chairs, her head bowed, her hands clasped. The tall man stepped over and laid his hand on her shoulder, leaning down to brush a kiss over her hair. She must be Teri’s mother. Which means that man is probably Reginald Fortune. Kim turned her attention to the remaining person standing at the periphery of the group, a burly man of about 6-feet, hands stuffed into the pockets of an ill-fitting tweed jacket, an impassive expression on his square face. Kim’s skin prickled.
Cop.
She looked away and moved to stand beside one of the women just as the minister began speaking.
“We are gathered here to celebrate the life of Teresa Marie Fortune, and to mourn her passing. But that, too, is a celebration, for she will have eternal life.”
Kim watched Teri’s brother. He stood, head bowed, hands clasped in front of his pristine jacket. She also threw a surreptitious glance at the plain-clothes cop and caught him staring at her. She quickly looked away, but not before she saw him shift his weight. Why was he watching her? Did he recognize a fellow officer, as she had? Did she still have that look?
The minister’s voice cut in again. “Sisters and brothers, remember Ecclesiastes thirty-eight, verse nineteen. ‘For of sadness cometh death, and it overwhelmeth the strength, and the sorrow of the heart boweth down the neck.’ Do not let your sorrow prevail. Instead, remember your loved one in happiness and health. Let us say the Lord’s Prayer together.”
Kim tipped her head and murmured the familiar words, but her mind would not quiet. Teri’s murder remained unsolved, and gathered in this place were people with possible insights that might help find the killer.
When the minister finished the service, he asked if anyone wanted to say something. No one came forward.
“Go in peace.”
Kim stepped back, glancing toward Teri’s brother. This would be her only chance to ask some questions of her own. The two women were moving slowly down the slope and she hurried after them.
“Excuse me? Did you have horses at Teri’s barn?”
They turned in unison and the older one nodded. “Yes. Isn’t this sad?”
“More than sad. Just tragic. She was doing so well, had such a successful business.”
The women glanced at each other, then the younger one spoke. “That’s what she tried to convey, but if you had horses with her, you’d know it wasn’t so.”
Kim nodded as though understanding exactly what the woman meant. “Oh, you noticed it too?”
She began walking slowly and the two came with her. The older woman seemed eager to discuss whatever problem they’d seen.
“Even though she put a good face on it, I noticed several times that the feed room was quite spare and the hayloft almost empty. I never mentioned it to her because I thought it was just delivery timing.”
The other woman chimed in. “Yes, and the extras on my bill each month were beginning to be worrisome. My horse only needed some massage therapy for a pulled muscle. I don’t know what all Teri used on him, but it seemed like a lot more than usual.”
Kim pursed her lips. “I also wondered if she might be in some sort of financial trouble.”
The older woman stopped walking. “I’m almost positive she was. I overheard a telephone conversation with someone about her mortgage. She was very upset.”
“Have you taken your horses home?”
The younger woman opened her mouth to reply, then her gaze shifted at about the same time Kim realized someone was behind her. She turned and met the hard stare of the plain-clothes cop.
He had a deep, gravelly voice. “Excuse me, can I have a word?”
How long had he been there? How much had he heard?
The two women hurried away toward the line of parked cars.
Kim cocked her head. “About what?”
“About what you’re doing here.”
She blinked. “Why shouldn’t I be? And who are you?”
He didn’t smile. “I recognize you. Columbus Mounted Division, football riots. You’re the officer who was shot, am I right?”
She exhaled slowly. Of all the inconvenient coincidences.
“Well, I don’t recognize you, so if you’ll excuse me...”
He flashed a badge. “The police department is working with the county on Teri Fortune’s murder.”
Kim noted the badge number and filed it away, along with the interesting tidbit that, in all this exchange, he hadn’t given her his name.
She affected a sad face, even managing to tear-up. “Lord, I hope you find whoever did it. She was my friend and I’ll miss her terribly.”
The man looked at her for a moment. “We’re doing our best.” He nodded. “You have a good day.”
Kim watched him move toward the parked cars, then she glanced toward the gravesite. Everyone had gone. Her pulse thumped beneath her jaw as she walked toward her car. No name, no business card, no request to call if she thought of anything that might help the investigation. She slid behind the wheel and looked back up the hill. The man had disappeared. She scanned the remaining parked cars, but if he was there, he wasn’t visible.
&n
bsp; A sleek black late-model Mercedes glided past and she caught sight of the tall blonde man behind the wheel. She watched the taillights disappear around a curve, then picked up her cell phone and dialed information. A moment later, she connected to the Delaware Police Department.
“Hi, I just spoke with an officer and I’ve forgotten his name, but his badge number is 768.”
A short silence and paper rustling on the other end of the line, then, “We don’t have that badge number. Are you sure it was this department?”
Kim laughed lightly. “Oh, maybe not. Thanks anyway.”
She quickly disconnected, then dialed the sheriff’s office.
Ten minutes later, she laid her phone on the seat and eased the car down the lane. Mr. Detective did not officially exist.
Fortune Farms was a fifteen-minute drive from the cemetery and Kim used the time to ponder who the fake cop was and why he was at Teri’s funeral. Usual procedure in most homicide cases would be to have a detective attend any event where friends or enemies of the deceased might gather, but she’d already determined that this guy wasn’t connected with anything official. What was he looking for? Maybe he was a private investigator like Quaid. Looking into the murder? Someone from the mortgage company? Whoever he was, Kim didn’t like the fact that he’d recognized her. From what perspective was that knowledge? Had he been part of the riot? A bystander? A police officer at the time? One who’d fallen from grace and now slunk around the periphery of crime? Could he have simply seen the gory front page photos and details of the event, and was nothing more than a freak with a taste for the sensational? Maybe the one who’d fired the shot? She shuddered, redirecting her thoughts to the conversation with the two women at the cemetery.
It was unusual for clients to have much insight into a business’s inner workings, so whatever was going on with Teri and her finances must have been visible. Especially to clients who came to the barn frequently.
She turned into Teri’s driveway. The same black Mercedes was parked near the doors. Perhaps she’d be able to talk to Teri’s brother, and give Quaid some information he could use. And maybe get the wheels turning for Bandit’s return home.
~~
Quaid’s voice rose a notch. “You want me to what?”
The insurance adjuster chuckled. “You heard me. The client says it will prove his claim. We have no choice but to follow up.”
“But I already have proof that the horse at Fortune Farms is a different horse. Is the company just going to roll over and pay up? Jeezus.”
“No other options, buddy. We have to follow it up. If we can’t prove fraud, it’s a legitimate claim.”
Quaid disconnected, then tossed the phone onto the desk. He’d logged a lot of hours trying to determine this case, and now the whole thing would be over in a matter of hours. No way was Jasper Martin innocent here. He might have an angle that would fool the insurance company, but he wasn’t fooling Quaid or Kovak.
He grabbed the phone again and dialed her number.
“You aren’t going to believe the latest twist,” he said. “Out of the blue, Jasper Martin called the insurance company and said he could prove the horse at Teri’s isn’t his. He wants the claim paid and closed. Remember he said there was some secret identification mark?”
“Yes, but we never found anything obvious on Bandit, other than the hoof scar.”
“Apparently, the real horse has a heart-shaped blotch on...uh, on his...dick.”
Kovak burst into laughter. “Are you kidding me? Oh, that is too funny! Of course no one would see it!”
Quaid was not as amused. “Yeah, well somehow I have to see it. Any suggestions?”
Kovak giggled again, then said, “You want me to get a picture for you?”
“Well, you are closer than I am.”
“More than you know. I’m at the barn right now, just about to talk to Teri’s brother.”
“No point in that now. If the horse doesn’t have any kinky artwork on his privates, then this case is over.”
A long silence filtered through the phone, then, “And you’re just going to let this go? Knowing what we do about the scope of the thefts?”
“What’s the point? Neither one of us is part of an official investigation into the theory.”
“Meaning you don’t give a damn about all this unless you get a paycheck. Nice.” Kovak’s tone turned icy. “I’ll get that photo and e-mail it within the next couple of hours. Talk to you later.”
The line went dead and Quaid stared at the green claim folder. Easy for her to say, Miss Photographer-with-nothing-to-do-and-all-day-to-do-it. She hadn’t driven and flown all over the friggin’ country tracking down leads that went nowhere and talking to people who didn’t give a damn. If Jasper’s horse was stolen, for whatever reason, then the guy deserved to be compensated for the insurance premiums he’d paid. That’s what goddamned insurance was for.
Quaid rose and paced his small study. File a claim. Prove a claim. Pay a claim. That’s the way it worked. How did Kovak come off being so holier-than-thou?
~~
Kim jammed the phone into her pocket.
Quaid was a royal ass.
She strode across the barn aisle toward Teri’s office. At the door, she stopped and rapped lightly on the doorjamb.
The tall man from the cemetery looked up, his eyebrows coming together. “Yes? May I help you?”
She stepped through and held out her hand. “Are you Teri’s brother? I’m Kim Kovak, a friend.”
He shook her hand half-heartedly. “Reggie Fortune. Thank you for paying your respects. I’m a little busy right now. Was there something else you wanted?”
“Actually, yes. I’m working with United Equine Assurance in Cleveland. We have an open claim on one of Teri’s clients and I just need to take a photograph of the horse to close the case.”
Suspicion clouded Fortune’s eyes. “What kind of insurance claim?”
“I’m not at liberty to say, but this photograph will end the investigation.”
He gazed at her for a moment, then nodded. “Okay. Which horse are we talking about?”
“Talisman, far end stall near the tack room.”
Fortune stepped out the door and looked in that direction. “I’m waiting for owners to come pick up the horses. Haven’t heard back from that one.”
Kim’s pulse quickened. Somehow, she had to get Bandit back to his rightful owner. If no one claimed him, this guy would simply send him off to auction.
“I’ll only be a minute. Is there someone here who can hold his head for me?”
“There’s an old guy out back who’s doing something with a tractor. Now, if you’ll excuse me...”
“Thanks. Nice meeting you.”
She was speaking to the back of the expensive suit. Jerk.
A few minutes later, she found the old man peering at the innards of a tractor engine.
“Excuse me, can you come help me with a horse?”
The man nodded and wiped his hands on a greasy rag. “You one of them horse owners?”
“No, I’m a photographer. I just need a second pair of hands.”
As they approached Bandit’s stall, alarms went off in Kim’s head. A wary look darkened the horse’s eyes, as though things had not been good at the barn since Teri’s death.
The old man stood near the horse’s head. “What is it you want to do again? Take pitchers?”
“Yes, but this is a special picture and I need you to hold him real still. Can you do that?”
He snorted. “’Course I can do that! Been around horses since I was ten.” He slipped a halter over Bandit’s head and attached a lead rope. “Where do you want him?”
Kim adjusted the camera settings. “Right there where you are. I’m going to take pictures of his underbelly. He has some unusual markings that will help us identify him.”
The old guy scratched Bandit’s chin. “He’s a nice horse. Hasn’t had much attention since...” His voice cracked.
&
nbsp; Kim stroked Bandit’s neck and back, waiting for his muscles to relax. Getting him to drop his penis wouldn’t be easy, especially if he’d been neglected for a long time. She’d just have to try a couple of tricks they’d used at the police barns at bath time. As her hands moved softly along his side, he cocked a hind foot and exhaled. Good, he’s at least in a trusting mode. She continued stroking his body, moving slowly down his sides to his underbelly. When she reached the area just in front of his sheath, she began to gently scratch and massage, humming softly. She glanced up at his ears every so often. He was totally relaxed. The old man watched her, a quizzical look on his face. Should she have warned him? Too late now. She continued to rub, moving slowly onto the soft, furry sheath. Sure enough, Bandit dropped and Kim clicked off five shots before he pulled himself back into hiding.
Jasper had his proof. The horse’s penis was as pink and unblemished as a baby’s butt.
“Did you just take a pitcher of his Johnson?”
Kim almost laughed, but the old man’s expression was unpleasant.
“Yes, I did, and I’m sorry I didn’t warn you. We need it for proof of ownership.” She moved toward the stall door. “Thank you for your help.”
She quickly let herself out of the stall.
The old man muttered, “Dang pervert.”
Kim hurried to her car, her thoughts in turmoil. She had to contact Bandit’s real owner before Fortune disposed of the horse. She stopped in mid-stride. He couldn’t do anything unless the insurance company closed the claim. But they couldn’t close the claim without the pictures she’d just taken. Much as she hated the idea, she’d have to ask Quaid to delay his report until Bandit was safely on his way home.
Her shoulders sagged. Why would Quaid even consider doing that? As far as he was concerned, the case was over. He was no longer involved or interested.
She slid in behind the steering wheel. Quaid would just have to wait on those photographs.
Chapter 31
Dixie’s patrol car was in its usual spot in front of the condos and Kim closed her eyes briefly. In the morning’s excitement, she’d forgotten about her trip to Marietta. How was she going to explain all this to Dixie? Would it look like a dodge? The dashboard clock said noon, but Marietta was only two hours away. They could still leave in late afternoon and be there in time for dinner.
