"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.
Wyn took her hand and squeezed it. It was as
if, she thought as she turned to look at him, he could sense her
feelings.
"It'll be okay, Doc," he said, smiling.
"I hope so," she replied, a worried look on
her face.
They walked on, arriving at the last stall,
pausing to look in on the horse there, then turned and started back
up the way they'd come. Suddenly, Valerie stopped dead in her
tracks and jerked on Wyn's hand.
"Look!" she said in a near whisper.
"What?" he asked, turning to face her.
"Oh, my God, Wyn!" she exclaimed, leaning
down to the floor to pick up a small object just outside one of the
stalls.
Valerie held a gel capsule between two
fingers. It was just like medication would come in, and inside she
discovered a fine white powder.
"Can you think of a pill that any of the
horses might be taking that looks like this?" she asked Wyn.
He shook his head. "No," he said. "I'd have
to check with Santo, but I can't think of a thing." He looked at it
closely. "Isn't it a lot smaller than most horse pills?" he
asked.
"Exactly," she said. "And I can't think of
anything that we'd use that resembles this. Let me go up to the
gate and give this to Santo to give Tami. We can run it through
toxicology, too. I bet it'll be the same thing that shows up in
Demon's blood." "I'll go with you," he said. "You can wait here,"
she replied. He shook his head. "No, I want to keep you in my
sight."
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Teddy sat down on Tiffani's big bed, where
she was spread out, her eyes teary, her expression troubled. Her
long curly hair, the product of much untalented cutting, dyeing,
bleaching, and styling—what color is it? he wondered—was fanned out
around her head.
He took one of her hands in his and held it,
looking down at the thin gold and silver junk rings she wore on
every finger. The fuchsia polish on her fake nails was chipped, and
the gold-tone and silver-tone bangle bracelets at her wrists were
bent and scratched from wear.
Every time he'd made a move on her, she'd
shaken her head from side to side and whined. "Not yet, Teddy,"
she'd say. "Not yet. We have to talk."
"So let's talk, babe," he'd said, but so far
she'd hardly said a word.
He was quickly losing his patience with her.
Shit
, he thought,
this is ridiculous
. He'd already
snorted a few lines of coke. It was time to get busy. He had to get
her to start talking.
"I'm worried about you," he said. "Won't you
tell me what's wrong?"
"Well," she began slowly, finally responding
to his apparent concern, "there's something we need to talk
about."
"Okay," he said, sliding an arm around her
shoulder.
"Well," she said, looking down into her lap,
then back up at him, "you told me that those pills you gave me
wouldn't hurt anybody. Those pills you told me to give the
horses."
Teddy was silent for a moment, wondering what
further absurdity she would present him with now. "That's right,"
he said. "They wouldn't hurt anybody."
"Well," she said, "I was having second
thoughts. That's why I asked you to come over. And then Santo
called me at home, saying the whole place was in an uproar." She
paused. "They're analyzing blood and one of the pills I
dropped."
Teddy stared at her openmouthed. "You dropped
a pill?" he said.
She nodded. "Yeah, but it wouldn't matter,
Teddy," she replied, "because they're analyzing the blood anyway.
Santo said there are millions of dollars in horses there, and
they're calling in the police. He said I was in big trouble because
I was the only person there."
"That's bullshit," Teddy snapped. "They can't
prove you did a thing."
"I know that," she said. "I can tell them
that I went out to get a sandwich for lunch, which I did, and
anybody could have come in and done it." She looked at Teddy, a
hard glint in her eyes. "Or ... I could tell them that you gave me
the pills to give to the horses because you wanted to get even with
your vet friend for going out with Mr. Conrad."
Teddy looked over at her and saw that look in
her eyes, and he knew that she was telling the truth.
She would
do it
, he thought.
The bitch would implicate me just so she
wouldn't go down alone, even after all I've done for her
.
Then he had a sudden inspiration.
Nobody's
ever seen us together,
he thought.
Nobody has any idea that
we even know each other. Unless . . .
"Tiff," he said calmly, "you didn't tell
anybody else about the stable business, did you?"
She shook her head. "No, Teddy," she replied.
"Do you think I'm crazy?"
He smiled. "Smart girl."
"But some of my girlfriends know I've been
hanging out with you. I've told them all about you and me."
The smile faded from his face, and he looked
crestfallen.
Is she lying?
he wondered. But then he realized
that of course she wasn't lying. She'd probably been bragging to
her friends all summer. Telling them about how she was screwing her
rich landlord, Teddy de Mornay. Getting a rent reduction
and
free dope.
How the fuck do I clean up this mess?
he asked himself. He made a decision. He'd tell her not to worry,
that he'd fix everything and come back later as planned.
After
my meeting with Marguerite,
he thought,
I'll come over,
ready to party. Maybe bring a little something extra special, make
sure greedy Tiff gets her share and then some. She was my
tenant
, he'd tell the cops
, but I have no idea why she'd
poison any horses. Pretty girl, too. Damn shame about her
overdosing like that. . .
It was going on seven o'clock, and Val and
Wyn had agreed that they'd have dinner later, after their long
vigil at the stables. The horses had largely calmed down, but a few
were still spooked. Their agitation, of course, only served to
disquiet those that had calmed down. It might be hours yet,
depending on what they had in their systems, before they were all
back to normal.
Val had called the police to report what had
happened, and they had paid a brief call, looking around the
stables and questioning both Val and Wyn. She had told them about
Noah's almost certain poisoning, Hayden's death, and assured them
she would let them know as soon as she had a report on the blood
work and capsule. She'd reluctantly told them that the only person
she knew who had a grudge against her was Teddy de Mornay.
Santo had given them Tiffani's name and
address, and they were supposed to question her as well as Teddy.
Finally, after the police had left, Val had agreed to go home and
change and check on Elvis, then come back for dinner. Santo and the
Reinhardts would be at Stonelair tonight, Wyn had told her, so if
there was any problem, there would be help at least.
She'd finished taking a quick bath, made up
her face, brushed her hair, and was rummaging through her closet,
exasperated because she couldn't figure out
what to wear
.
She stood back and looked at her closet, considering the
possibilities that presented themselves and cursing herself for not
taking the time to do more clothes shopping when she was in New
York City.
Wyn had told her that tonight was going to be
a special dinner, so she wanted to look special.
She began pushing hangers apart, quickly
scanning what hung on them, then moving on. Then an old djellaba
that she'd picked up on a trip to Tangier years ago jumped out at
her. She'd forgotten all about it. She pulled it out of the closet
and held it up.
Perfect,
she thought with a smile.
And Wyn will get a kick out of it. Wait till I tell him about
bargaining for it in the Medina.
Ankle length, it was made of a
white gauzy fabric that was embroidered with real gold thread
around the neck, on the long sleeves, the hem, and down the bodice.
It unbuttoned practically to the waist with little frog closures of
gold.
She slipped it on over her head, then
buttoned the bottom three or four buttons, and turned in front of
the mirror.
Really perfect
, she thought, delighting in the
rediscovery of the Moroccan garment.
It's summery and sexy and
exotic and dressy, but casual, too
.
Now, if she could find the little gold
sandals that she'd worn with it, she'd be all set. She delved back
into the closet, searching the floor, under piles of shoes of all
kinds, and voila. There they were, needing a dusting off, but none
the worse for wear.
She took them into the kitchen and wiped them
with a damp paper towel, then dried them with another one. She
tried them on, and they still fit.
Well
, she thought,
at
least something's working out right today.
She looked at the clock on the kitchen wall.
Just time enough, if she hurried. She checked to make sure Elvis
had enough water and food, then grabbed her carryall and keys. She
checked the back door to make certain it was locked, then headed
for the front, Elvis following along behind her.
At the door, she leaned down and petted
Elvis. "I'll be late, old boy," she said, "so you can have a nice
nap." She looked into his eyes. "And I promise that you'll meet the
new man in my life and all of his animals, too, very soon." She
hugged him, then got up and left, making sure she'd locked the door
behind her.
She fired up the Jeep and pulled out of her
driveway, wondering what Wyn was up to.
What's so special about
tonight?
she wondered.
Was he having someone else over?
Probably not, because he didn't see anyone else, at least not that
she knew of. But he'd told her to dress up more than usual.
Why?
She couldn't think of a thing.
Was it just a matter
of the food?
Maybe.
She sped down the road, eager to get to
Stonelair. Excited to find out what Wyn would think was
special.
Darkness had fallen, and the odd couple in
the big car was speeding down the road, headed toward Stonelair. At
the wheel was Santo, in Stonelair's Range Rover. When they arrived,
should anybody be about, which was highly unlikely, they would
think nothing of seeing him driving in alone. His passenger would
simply slide to the floor until the car was safely parked in the
garage at his cottage.
He'd hardly ever used the garage, usually
walking over from the parking area at the stables, but tonight he'd
even brought the remote for the garage door.
Open sesame
, he
thought.
Then close and conceal
.
Sitting next to him in the front was Arielle.
She was chain-smoking cigarillos, occasionally taking a sip from a
little silver flask in her pocketbook. She had come dressed in her
extraordinarily sexy way, perhaps adding a little extra pizzaz on
Santo's account. The snakeskin micromini, the sheer blouse
unbuttoned to the waist, thus exposing her perfect breasts, the
stilettos. The effect of her outfit was not lost on him. It was as
provocative now as it had been earlier in the day. He knew that
Arielle was a shark, of course, but she was the sexiest shark he'd
ever come across. Maybe they really would be a great team.
"We're just about there," he told her.
"So now I do my disappearing act, right?"
Arielle said.