The Night Is Forever (11 page)

“Oh, I don’t think it really needs a name,” Olivia told her. “The chain coffee shops have it already, I’m afraid. They just call it coffee with a shot of espresso.”

“Here’s it going to be a ‘Liv’!” Delilah insisted.

The door opened and Dustin made his entrance. “Morning, Delilah,” he said. “Good morning, Olivia.” He walked up to take a seat at the counter beside her.

“My, my, you folks are up early today,” Delilah remarked. “Nice to see you, Agent Blake. Sorry—Dustin.”

“Thanks.”

“How about a ‘Liv’?” Delilah offered.

“A Liv?” he asked with a question in his eyes as he smiled over at her.

The man had a good smile, Olivia thought. At the moment, it revealed charm and a touch of amusement. He really was a perfect man—lean, hard-muscled and fit. His skin was slightly bronzed, his eyes a striking deep green and his shock of neatly clipped hair defined the concept of auburn.

She hoped he couldn’t read her thoughts. She felt her cheeks flush and spoke quickly to cover her embarrassment. “I happen to be the first person Delilah’s ever served a coffee with an espresso thrown in. She’s going to call it a ‘Liv’ from now on.”

“Oh,” he said gravely, turning to Delilah. “Sounds wonderful. Looks wonderful. How does it taste?”

“It’s excellent,” Olivia assured him.

“Guess when you’re up and at ’em this early, makes good sense,” Delilah said. “So, did you find an alarm company, hon? I can’t really help—we never needed an alarm around here, you know?”

“I found one.” Olivia stood up. “Excuse me while I give them a call.” She walked down to the end of the little diner. The office was open and she arranged for a technician to come out on Saturday. That was the earliest someone would be available.

It would have to do, she told herself. Two days. She returned to her chair.

“Any luck, honey?” Delilah asked.

“Yeah, I’m all set up.”

Delilah turned to Dustin. “I said I couldn’t advise her. I’ve got a shotgun—and a man.” She nodded knowingly, then gestured at Olivia. “Can you imagine? This sweet young thing was with a fella who lit out for Austin!”

Olivia could feel Dustin’s eyes on her.

She groaned. “Delilah, he’s making a great living in Austin and I’m happy for him. I’m perfectly fine on my own.”

“Some people are fine, you know,” Dustin said. There was amusement in his voice. But he seemed to sense her discomfort and changed the subject.

“I’d love to have a ‘Liv,’ too,” he said. “And some of your pancakes, please.”

Olivia decided on an omelet.

Whistling, Delilah conveyed their orders to Steve and set to work on Dustin’s coffee. After glancing at Olivia and obviously trying not to grin, Dustin chatted casually, asking her how they went about choosing the right horses to work with people.

“Well, obviously, when Marcus brought in a rescue animal with bad kicking habits, or one that nipped, we kept working the horse ourselves.”

“And could you retrain all of them so they could work with others?” he asked.

“Most of the time, rescues have been neglected but they can work well with people and enjoy human interaction. Every once in a while, though, we’ve gotten a horse that was so abused it could never be assigned to anyone who wasn’t experienced with horses.”

“And then?”

Olivia shrugged. “And then one of the staff would just keep working with the horse or sometimes use it for group trail rides. Occasionally, if a horse had been so abused that Marcus could never feel comfortable allowing anyone to ride it, the horse was just retired and allowed to stay in the paddocks for the duration of its natural life.” She looked straight ahead for a moment. “Marcus made the Horse Farm a no-kill shelter.”

“Nice,” he said quietly.

The door opened, and Olivia twisted her head to see who had arrived.

It was Deputy Sheriff Frank Vine. He’d been on duty the day Marcus had disappeared. For a cop, Frank was an exceptionally gentle man. Fifty-something, with hair that was almost pure white and a laid-back manner, Frank could be tough, but he listened, weighing every situation carefully.

He’d even listened to her when she’d found Marcus. He’d soothed her and told her sadly that people didn’t always live up to their own expectations or those of others. It didn’t make them bad people. They just hadn’t had the strength they’d needed.

“Morning, Frank,” she said.

“Olivia, good morning. And how are you doing, young lady?” he asked, sliding onto the stool to her left. He beamed at Delilah and then leaned back, unabashedly studying Dustin. “Hello, sir.”

“Frank Vine, Dustin Blake.” Olivia made quick introductions. Dustin stood for a moment to shake Frank’s hand. Delilah came over with a cup and the coffeepot. “Morning, Deputy Frank,” she said. “Dustin here is one of your own. A federal officer of the law.”

“Oh, yeah?” Frank looked at Dustin again. “Are you out here for any special reason?”

“I am. I’m attending the Horse Farm,” Dustin said.

“Oh.” Frank nodded but obviously remained curious.

“And I’m originally from Nashville.”

“Ah.” That seemed to make sense to Frank. “Our own Music City.” His pride in Nashville was evident.

“No better place,” Dustin agreed.

Frank nodded happily; Dustin had made a friend.

“I hear the Horse Farm had to do a lot of rescheduling this morning, because the lawyer’s coming to discuss the terms of Marcus Danby’s will,” Frank said.

“It’s a formality, but I guess it’s necessary,” Olivia put in.

“Deputy,” Dustin began. “I’m curious. I believe the medical examiner concluded that Marcus Danby’s death was accidental. The result of a fall, possibly brought on by a mind-altering substance. Heroin. Where did Marcus inject?”

Frank’s face turned a mottled red. “The usual,” he murmured.

“Vein in the arm?” Dustin asked. “I guess at his point in his life—when he fell back into drugs—he wouldn’t have collapsed veins, and the needle mark would’ve been easy for the medical pathologist to find.”

“Right,” Frank said. He looked over at Dustin. “He was a mighty fine man and the Horse Farm is a mighty fine place. We don’t judge Marcus harshly, and we ask you not to do so, either. You’re here for healing, I imagine, son, so let the healing begin. Now, Liv,” Frank said, turning to her. “Today will make things all legal. Aaron takes over, and that’s fitting. Aaron’s been Marcus’s right-hand man for over a decade now. But...I need you to do me a favor.”

“What’s that, Frank?”

“There’s a big old yellow dog on the property. Marcus came back with him after a trip to Memphis. He was at some animal shelter over there and was running out of days,” Frank said.

“Homer. He’s some kind of Lab mix—probably about three or four years old. He’s a great dog.”

“I’d like to have him. Think you could make that happen for me? Marcus might’ve left him to you in his will. He liked the big old mutt almost as much as his Sammy.”

“Frank, you know animals come to the farm not because we need more animals, but so they can survive. Whether Homer was left to me or Aaron or anyone else, I’m sure we’d all be delighted for you to have him.”

“Thanks. The kids are all grown up now with kids of their own, and since last fall... Well, I figured that dog kind of took a hankering to me and I kind of took a hankering to him,” Frank said.

Frank’s wife had passed away the year before from cancer. Olivia patted his hand. “Homer would be privileged to live with you, Frank.”

Frank nodded. Delilah brought plates of food for Dustin and Olivia and took Frank’s order. Twenty minutes later, Frank had finished his corned beef hash and grits and headed off to work. Olivia looked at her watch and asked Delilah for her check. She glanced at Dustin, who’d grown thoughtful when Frank left.

While Delilah tallied their bills, Dustin said, “So that’s the officer who won’t believe you about Marcus? Seems like you two get on well enough.”

“That’s one of them. We have two sheriff’s deputies who handle this area—Frank, and Jimmy Callahan. They’re both decent guys. But...they feel sorry for those of us who wear rose-tinted glasses, as Jimmy phrased it. They’re very kind when they try to make me understand what they see as the sad truth.”

Delilah was on her way toward them, and Dustin fell silent. “See you in class, Agent Blake,” Olivia said, rising to take her bill and put money on the counter. “Delilah, thank you. Delicious as usual.”

“Bye, honey. See you soon,” Delilah said.

The sun was bright now. Special agent Dustin Blake was still at the counter in the diner behind her as Olivia walked to her car, wondering if she’d simply imagined that someone had tried to gain entry to her house.

She drove the short distance to the Horse Farm. Pulling into the parking area in front of the office, she saw that Drew and Sydney had been up early, too; the horses were out in the pasture. A quick count assured her they were all there. Shebaan, an aging Tennessee Walker. Trickster, often used in therapy sessions. Beloved Battle-ax, an old Percheron mix who was as big as a house and gentle as the Easter bunny. Zeus, a Paint. Carina, a gentle palomino. Martin, an Arabian mix. Chapparal, a one-time champion barrel-racer. Pixie and Nixie, rescued mixes from the swamps of Georgia. Gargantua, some kind of Clydesdale mix Marcus had owned forever. Beryl, a sweet bay, and her own personal favorite, Shiloh.

“Hey, guys. Morning!” she called to the horses.

She entered the office. Drew and Sydney were there, talking with Aaron, who held one of the Horse Farm cats on his lap. Sandra Cheever was seated on the arm of the sofa, and Mason Garlano stood by the window, smoothing back his hair. She saw that the window was providing him with a reflection.

“Who are we missing?” Aaron asked, waving her in.

“Just Mariah,” Sandra announced. “She gave me a call a minute ago. She’s on her way.” She glanced at Olivia. “Liv, you’re looking a little...tired. You okay?”

“I’m fine, thanks. I didn’t get much sleep, though. Had some kind of animal sniffing around the house last night.”

Mason turned to her with a grin. “Some kind of animal? Olivia, you practically live in the woods. Or the country, anyway. There are
lots
of animals around you.”

“I know. But it made me decide to get an alarm system installed.”

“That’s never a bad idea,” Aaron said.

“Not really necessary around here, in my opinion,” Sandra said. She smiled. “But whatever. If creeping animals are giving you...well, the creeps!...you should get an alarm system.”

“Yep,” Mason agreed. He gave Olivia his best sexy smile. “Pretty girl in the woods. You never know when a wolf will show up.”

“We don’t have any wolves around here,” Aaron said.

“Ah, well, they also come on two feet, don’t they?” Mason teased. He grinned at Olivia. She grinned back. He’d tried to get something going with her when he’d first started working there. She liked him—as a friend. She knew that while he could be an effective therapist, he was also self-involved. He knew it, too. But his ego didn’t get in the way of his sense of humor, and they both saw the absurdity in many situations.

“They definitely come on two feet!” Sandra said, shaking her head. “Mason, would you bring me some more coffee?”

“Sure. Where’s the attorney?” Mason asked, walking over to the coffee service to oblige her. “He’s late.”

“I think that’s him driving in now,” Aaron said. “So, everyone, get your coffee and get settled.”

The attorney came in. Olivia had met him once before, just in passing. Aaron introduced him as Kevin Fairchild. He was a slim man, balding and out of place at the Horse Farm in a black business suit, white tailored shirt, striped tie and silver tiepin. But he was friendly, smiled easily and didn’t seem to care if he got dust or animal hair on his suit.

Mariah followed him in a moment later, sweeping her hair into a ponytail as she walked. She slid next to Olivia on the sofa and rolled her eyes. “Can you believe it? I overslept.”

“We’re all here, so we’ll get started,” Aaron said. “Mr. Fairchild, if you will? I have a feeling you’ll have to explain everything in layman’s terms. For me, certainly. I tried to fill out my own living will once and it confused the hell out of me!”

They all smiled and laughed, a little nervously, Olivia thought, although there was no reason for anyone to be nervous.
Marcus’s will should hold no surprises.

“Well, ladies and gentlemen, let’s begin. I’ll explain the legalese as I go along and feel free to ask me questions.”

Fairchild started to read, and Olivia’s mind wandered as he went through legal phrase after legal phrase. It was more or less what she’d expected, although she’d never been to the “reading” of a will before. She found herself looking around at all her coworkers, trying to grasp the fact that one of them might have killed Marcus—and might want to kill her.

Aaron leaned against the counter, looking perplexed as he listened. Drew Dicksen appeared to be deep in thought. Sydney Roux dangled his key chain and stared out the window; from where he stood, he could see their horses in the field. Homer, the big yellow dog Deputy Frank Vine had asked her about, was running after a bird.

Mariah seemed to be dozing off.

Mason was worrying a fingernail.

Sandra Cheever was trying to look as if she was paying attention, but her eyes kept glazing over.

Olivia started as she suddenly heard her name. Fairchild was silent, as were the others; they all studied her curiously.

“I don’t understand,” Sandra said. “Aaron gets the place, but not really. And after him, Olivia gets it, and if she doesn’t run it into the ground, she names her own successor?”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Olivia murmured to Sandra, except that she was surprised herself and realized Sandra hadn’t meant to be offensive. She flashed her an apologetic smile.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere,” Aaron said.

“Better not!” Olivia told him.

“The Horse Farm is in a trust,” Fairchild explained. “Aaron maintains the senior position and makes all the decisions. In the event of something happening to Aaron, Olivia will take over as senior operating official. Sometime in the next year, they’re to name the others who’ll follow in their places, and so on, down the line. It’s very straightforward. Marcus had this will written so he could ensure that the Horse Farm would continue. The nonprofit will not be dissolved, and someone will always be there to see that it goes on doing the work he intended.”