Purebred (18 page)

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Authors: Patricia Rosemoor

BOOK: Purebred
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“What are you going to do with those?”

He echoed her: “You’ll see.” Within a few minutes, he’d cut the wood around the doorknob and lifted it out. Indicating the hole that remained, he said, “My hand is too large.”

Cat was able to put her hand through and unlock it from the inside. “Open Sesame.”

Swinging open the door, she turned on the light and saw that she’d guessed right. Artificial insemination equipment was the proof she’d needed. She noted everything from the AV and microscope to the glass straws and syringes. Using her cell phone, she started taking photos.

“Are you going to tell me where we are now?”

“This is Dean Hill’s farm.”

“I was thinking it would be Bradley’s after what you told me.”

“I did suspect Martin and Bernie at first. I even thought maybe Jack was in on something to ruin me, too. Then when I thought about it, I allowed that Bernie just might have been shocked seeing the pipette in my hand. Suddenly it occurred to me that Martin’s mares hadn’t conceived yet, while Dean’s conceived more quickly than normal. I thought that unusual, but I was too blind to suspect what was going on right under my nose.”

“So you think Hill has been inseminating his mares as an extra measure to make sure they conceived early?”

“Or perhaps at all.” Cat thought about the violence Dean had committed to keep what he was doing secret. “George must have caught him at it.”

“And the vet?”

“I don’t know.” Cat feared Helen had somehow been involved.

“’Tis puzzling how Hill thought he could get away with using another stallion’s semen, when foals are registered using DNA. They would know False Promise wasn’t the stud.”

“Not necessarily. Not if he had semen from a horse with matching DNA.”

“Unlikely that even a full brother would match all the same markers that are tested.”

“But an identical twin would.” The day Aidan had arrived, they’d talked about how Memory of You had broken down as a two-year-old, before he had a chance to make a name for himself.

“So Hill kept the twin?”

“I never thought about it until now. Let’s find out.”

She entered the aisle where several horses were stabled. The stallion would be kept apart from the mares, so she went straight to the far end. There he was, a blood bay with a white star on his forehead.

“I would swear that’s False Promise.”

She shook her head. “Nope. Take a look at his leg. The scars from the surgery after his breakdown.” She pulled out her cell phone and took a couple more photos.

“So now we have proof.”

“Photos. Some of that equipment with fingerprints would be better.”

“Aye. Then let’s fetch the evidence and get out of here.”

As they headed back toward the equipment room, Aidan tried to catch hold of her, but Cat shrugged him away. No matter that he was helping her now, she wouldn’t soon forget his dishonesty.

“Wear gloves so you don’t get your fingerprints on the equipment.”

While he slipped on a pair of latex gloves and lifted the microscope and fluid measuring tools, she went through drawers.

“We should leave.”

“You go, get what you have in the SUV. I’ll be right there. I’m looking to see if he kept records. If I can find them, I’ll bring them.”

“Don’t be long.”

Nothing in the drawers. If there were any records, they had to be on computer. She heard a footfall behind her.

“What did you forget?” she asked without looking up.

“You.”

Her heart lurched when she heard the voice. She whipped around to find Dean Hill blocking the doorway, an uncomfortable-looking Raul a short distance behind him.

* * *

A
IDAN
HAD
JUST
PUT
THE
equipment in the back of the SUV when his cell phone rang. He checked to see who was calling. The screen glowed against the dark.

Pierce.

Loving the irony, he clicked on the call. “Detective Pierce, there’s been an interesting development here.”

“Here, as well, McKenna. We retrieved fingerprints from the inside of the suitcase. Only problem—whoever left them doesn’t have a record. No match comes up.”

“Perhaps we have a match for you, along with the identity of your murderer.”

Aidan quickly explained how Cat had been drugged and left to die and how she’d refused to call Pierce until she’d followed her hunch about the murderer and how they’d found the twin stallion and AI equipment.

“So Cat’s hunch paid off,” Aidan finished. “We’re at Dean Hill’s farm now.”

“Get her out of there and wait someplace safe close by. I can use her expertise to explain all this equipment and such for my report. I’ll call when we’re within arresting distance. I’m on my way now with backup.”

Chapter Twenty

Abandoning any idea of deceiving Dean—Aidan’s cutting the handle out of the door was wickedly obvious—Cat asked, “What were you thinking, Dean? I know you’ve been using artificial insemination on your mares after I bred them with False Promise. No wonder you were having such good luck.”

“Luck? You think it’s good luck to have a champion Thoroughbred force-retired and then, when you want to breed him, he shoots blanks? Do you realize how much money I would have lost in sales and in stud fees? How much standing in the racing community?”

“So you brought False Promise and your broodmares to my barn to do your dirty work?”

“I knew I could bribe Raul to inseminate the mares.”

Cat looked over his shoulder, and to her surprise noted Raul’s discomfort. She turned her focus back to Dean. “And you know that’s fraud.”

“Only if I’m found out.” He pulled a gun from his pocket and aimed it at her. “With you gone, no one will know the difference. The DNA will be perfect. As you probably realize by now, I’m willing to do whatever it takes to make this work.”

“Even murder.”

“Killing George was difficult. I didn’t plan it. He simply walked in on us and I couldn’t let him tell anyone.” With his free hand, he popped something into his mouth and chewed as he added, “Killing gets easier once you get the hang of it.”

Cat wanted to be sick. This was a man who had a sterling reputation in the racing community, and he would make a fortune off his stud fees and through the sale of his foals, unless she could find a way to stop him.

“So you did mean for me to die earlier?”

“I was trying to make it look like an accident,” he admitted. “Now you’ll simply have to disappear like George did.” He grabbed her by the arm and jerked her toward the far entrance. “Stay here, Raul, and take care of the Irishman.”

Panicked at the thought of Aidan being killed because of her, Cat fought to free herself. “He never did anything to you—”

Dean jerked her silent.

“Hey, I didn’t sign up for no murder,” Raul protested.

“You’re an accessory, Raul.”

Dean kept her marching to the front of the barn. His tone verging on manic, he said, “You’ll do whatever is necessary if you don’t want to spend the rest of your life behind bars.”

“What are you going to do with me?” Cat asked, hoping to figure a way out of whatever he had planned for her.

“After what happened to Helen, no one will think of the ravine again.” He shoved her into his truck. “This time we’ll dig deep enough so that no one will ever find you. You and the Irishman will simply disappear, and everyone will think you ran away together because you’re the guilty ones.”

He’d lost it, Cat thought, thinking there had to be a way she could use that to her advantage.

* * *

W
HAT
IN
THE
WORLD
WAS
taking Cat so long? Getting edgier by the second, Aidan decided to go back for her and carry her out to the SUV if need be. Pierce couldn’t get here soon enough to suit him.

As he ran into the barn, he heard a vehicle speed away. He rushed to the main entrance in time to see Hill’s truck drive off down the road. And Cat was in the passenger seat. His gut twisted. By the time he got to the vehicle to follow, they would be long gone.

He had to try to find them. He couldn’t wait for Pierce and his backup.

But when he turned to go back, Raul stood in his path. Aidan’s hands closed into fists as he prepared to fight.

“Get out of my way!”

“You’ll never catch them, not on the road—you’ll be too late,” Raul said to Aidan’s surprise. “A horse’ll get you there faster using the shortcut.”

“Where?”

“The ravine. Cut around the barn straight back through the property and cross the road. When you get into the preserve, go far enough to find the trail. Keep going right.”

Aidan opened the closest stall gate. “Why are you helping me instead of stopping me?” No time to tack up the mare, so he threw his leg over her bare back.

“Ain’t no killer. I helped bury George because the bastard threatened to say
I
killed him. And I knocked out Miss Clarke the other night so he wouldn’t kill
her.
Now he got himself another chance at her. He’s lost it. He thinks he can get away with anything. You better hurry.”

Already psychically connecting with the mare, Aidan felt her muscles bunch when he tangled his fingers in her mane and urged her to move off. They rounded the barn and headed straight for the back of the property.

The terrain was flat.

Smooth.

Fast.

In no time they crossed the back road, slowed to descend an incline and were surrounded by forest.

Cat filled his mind and his heart. He’d put another woman in danger. She was angry with him for holding back, but no angrier than he was with himself. His refusing to sleep with her again hadn’t helped protect her. She was doomed unless he got to her in time to stop Hill.

Aidan kept the mare at an even trot as he searched out the way. Picking up the trail, he headed the mare to the right and signaled her into an easy lope until he got his bearings. Everything was pitch-dark now. The moon was a mere sliver peeking from behind a cloud. From this direction, nothing looked familiar, and he feared going too fast. He didn’t want to pass the entry to the ravine.

He found it by bizarre accident—a swath of faint light fingering a stand of trees.

Aidan stopped the mare and scanned the area. The light was coming from below. The ravine. Apparently Hill had left his truck lights on so he could see what he was doing.

Praying he wasn’t too late to save Cat, Aidan didn’t wait to find the cleared path—he headed the mare down through the maze of trees.

* * *

D
EAN
H
ILL
WAS
MAKING
HER
dig her own grave. The only reason Cat was following orders was to stall for time.

Aidan had to be looking for her by now.

The horror of it was that Dean had moved the burial site closer to where she and Aidan had their “just sex” encounter that had sparked her feelings for him. Looking up at that very spot and remembering how exciting that had been—and then how it had all gone bad within moments when the dogs found George—she swallowed hard. No matter that she was still angry with Aidan for not being honest with her, she realized she really did love him.

To her dismay, she was starting to believe in this McKenna curse thing.

Did that mean Aidan really loved her?

Anger and disappointment didn’t stop her heart from beating faster at the thought. He’d threatened to take her off somewhere until the murderer was caught. His methods might be questionable, but his heart wasn’t. She’d been judging him by the mistakes she’d made in trusting and marrying Jack. Aidan wasn’t anything like her ex-husband. There had to be a way to work things out between them.

If she survived.

“Keep digging!” Dean ordered. “I don’t have all night.”

Jamming the shovel into the rocky earth, Cat wanted to swing it smack into Dean’s head. He was sitting on a tree stump several yards away, and he had that gun pointed straight at her.

“Did you make George dig his own grave before you bashed in his head?”

“He was already dead.”

She just had to keep Dean off balance long enough for Aidan to find her. That shouldn’t be impossible. In her opinion, Dean had already gone around the bend.

“Then I assume you made Raul do the dirty work.”

“Little pissant complained about it, too. I had to threaten him, tell him I’d have the police on him.” Dean laughed. “Who would believe someone like him if I said I saw him do it?”

“He had a right to complain. This is hard work. Do you know how much rock there is, considering how close we are to the stream?” To emphasize her point, she smacked her shovel against a nearby boulder.

“Don’t worry, you’ll have plenty time to rest. Eternity, actually.” Dean laughed at his own macabre joke.

Cat eyed the water several yards away and wondered if it was deep enough to use for a getaway.

“Don’t even think about it,” Dean said. “I’ll shoot before you get a toe wet.”

Imagining she heard a soft noise that sounded like a horse blowing through its nose, her pulse surged. She said, “Tell me again why I should cooperate with you,” to center Dean’s attention on her.

“I have the gun, remember.”

Was someone really out there? Aidan? Her spirits rose. She might survive the night, after all. She kept digging, keeping her efforts as ineffectual as possible.

“Either way you’re going to kill me, right, Dean?”

“I am, but I can make it easy on you.” He popped something in his mouth and chewed. “Or very, very hard. I’m getting better at this. More creative. Easy or hard…your choice.”

Cat pretended to look at him, but she was subtly searching the nearby woods. “I prefer easy.”

“Then dig.”

Was that movement directly behind him?

Her hopes soared. She cleverly positioned herself to attack Dean. In the meantime, she had to keep him talking.

“Why didn’t you bury Helen?” she asked.

“I wanted it to look like a heart attack, so no one would connect her murder to George’s.”

“What you did to her was gruesome—”

“It was necessary!” he yelled. “I already paid her to keep quiet about False Promise. She was my vet, too, and she’s the one who determined he was sterile. When the bitch figured out I killed George, she wanted a hundred grand to keep her mouth shut. Well, I shut it for good!”

A horse snorting made Dean jump up from the stump. As Aidan broke from the trees, Dean turned, gun arm first. Cat acted without thinking. She threw the shovel at him and ran to jump him from behind.

The second the shovel struck Dean in the middle of his back, he swung around.

“No!” Aidan shouted as the gun went off barely a yard away.

Cat jerked to a stop at the fast, sharp pain and grabbed her middle. A wet warmth covered her hands. Her head went woozy and her legs gave way.

“Cat!” Aidan yelled, as she sank to the ground.

Dean swung around again, and Cat gasped, fearing he would now shoot the man she loved.

Aidan was ready for him. He grabbed Dean’s gun arm, held it high and jammed his knee into the other man’s gut. Dean’s grip on the gun loosened and it spun away into the dark.

Cat forced her eyes to stay open, her mind to stay in the present. Part of her wanted to drift off to someplace peaceful. Someplace without pain.

The men were still fighting, and she tried to say something that would stop them.

She couldn’t find her voice. She could hardly breathe.

Dean tackled Aidan to the ground, where they rolled closer to her. They traded punches. Blood burst from Aidan’s nose like a fountain, but he got his hands on the other man’s neck. Dean struggled, tried to loosen Aidan’s grip, but his struggle weakened.

Cat realized he would kill Dean if he didn’t stop.

“Aidan, no!” Pressing her side harder to stop the bleeding, she bit back the pain. “Leave him to the law. I d-don’t want to have to visit you in j-jail.”

She saw her plea got through to him. He loosened his grip and Dean choked in some air.

And then the night split with whirling red lights and screaming sirens and howling dogs—Smokey and Topaz tumbled down the ravine toward her—and it felt like all hell broke loose before her world went silent.

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