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“Thoroughbreds? Racehorses?”
“Some, yes. I also raise exotics—rare or unusual breeds in this part of the world, including draft horses. They’re my bread and butter, steady income while we try to produce the next Kentucky Derby champion. But that’s like winning the lottery. The last Derby winner our ranch produced was back when my dad ran the place, when I was just a baby.” She frowned. “I don’t see how any of that matters, though.”
“Just getting some background information. You mentioned this Wilkerson guy like you’re pretty familiar with him. Is he a friend?”
“I wouldn’t call him a friend, no. We wave when we see each other across the fence or on the road. But we don’t typically socialize.”
“He’s your neighbor?”
“Yes. His property abuts mine.”
“But he can’t be located. He’s missing?”
She shook her head. “No, that’s one thing that I can’t blame on Palmer. Wilkerson hasn’t been kidnapped.”
Palmer crossed his arms, glaring at her.
She ignored him. “I spoke to the service that mows his grass and looks after his property when he’s gone. They said he’s on vacation and won’t be back for weeks. But they didn’t have an address or even a phone number. According to the police, Wilkerson has checked in a few times, so they’re not worried about foul play. But he hasn’t checked in since Gladiator was stolen, so I haven’t had a chance to talk to him.”
She waved a hand toward Palmer. “I’ve never even met this guy before and he shows up when both Wilkerson and I are gone and waves his fake papers around. If that isn’t suspicious, I don’t know what is. He probably saw Gladiator out in the field, decided he wanted to steal him and randomly chose Wilkerson as a front for his schemes. I bet he’s never even met Mr. Wilkerson.”
“Wilkerson, my employer, paid good money for him. Just because you changed your mind doesn’t mean I have to give you back the horse.”
The tent flap opened again and Blake strode down the aisle. “Sorry for interrupting. Thank you, Mr. Palmer, Miss Caraway. Your records came back clean.” He smiled and handed them back their IDs. “There’s a crowd gathering outside, wanting in the tent to prep the horses for the parade,” he told Dillon. “I’ll hold them back, but the natives are definitely getting restless.”
“Understood. Thanks, Blake.”
Blake hurried out of the tent and Dillon walked toward the next stall. “How much did Wilkerson allegedly pay for the stallion?” When he reached the stall door and got his first unblocked view of the horse, he let out a low, appreciative whistle. “Friesian?”
“Yes,” Palmer and Piper both said.
“He’s thicker and taller than other Friesians I’ve seen.”
After giving Palmer a warning glance, Piper responded alone this time, “That’s part of why he’s so special. Most Friesians are closer to fifteen or sixteen hands tall. Gladiator is seventeen hands and built like a Clydesdale.”
“Gorgeous.” Dillon’s voice sounded wistful, as if he wished he owned the stallion.
“He’s a perfect specimen,” she said, “heavily sought after as a breeder. Which is why I’d never agree to sell. His stud fees pay a large chunk of the expenses on the ranch.”
The pride in her voice and the joy on her face as she talked about the horse were enough to convince Colby that all was not as it seemed. The real question was whether Palmer or his boss, Wilkerson, was the bad guy. Then again, maybe both of them were in cahoots.
“You never answered Dillon’s question, Mr. Palmer. How much did your employer supposedly pay for Gladiator?”
“Thirty thousand.”
Colby stared at him, stunned.
Piper snorted again. “That’s not even half of what he’s worth. And the money hasn’t been wired to my bank account. I haven’t received a single dime. That alone proves he’s lying.”
Palmer shrugged. “That’s between you and Wilkerson. Maybe there was a mix-up in the wire transfer. The account numbers could have been transposed or something. All I know is that he told me it was taken care of and gave me the papers that you signed. I’m sure he’ll straighten out the financing hiccups.”
“I didn’t sign anything.” Her hands flexed at her sides as if she wanted to strangle him. “You’re a horse thief, plain and simple. You should be shot.”
“I think you mean hung,” Colby said. “I’m pretty sure that’s the time-honored punishment for horse thieves.”
She appeared to consider his outrageous statement, then nodded sagely. “Works for me. If Destiny doesn’t already have a hanging scaffold, I’ll be happy to help them build one. I’ll even volunteer to pull the trip lever.”
Colby grinned, then sobered when he caught Dillon frowning at him.
“Mr. Palmer,” Colby said. “Let’s assume for a moment that there really is a mix-up at the bank and it will be straightened out. Thirty thousand dollars is a heck of a lot of money to pay for a horse. It’s hard to believe that Wilkerson would send such a valuable animal off to a county fair. Why would he do that?”
Palmer’s gaze slid away from Colby. “Wilkerson wants to drum up interest in the horse community so he can command a higher stud fee. He told me to tour the stallion at equestrian events for a few months.”
“Lexington is about three hours away. Why bring the stallion that far? Even if everyone in Blount County attends the fair, that’s only a few thousand people. A lot of them have horses for pleasure, but I doubt anyone around here is in the market for an expensive exotic like Gladiator. So why bring a prize Friesian to Destiny?”
“Good question,” Piper chimed in before Palmer could respond. “Gladiator’s too big and heavy to win a race. But he’s gorgeous enough to win just about any horse show. What’s the purse for something like that? Four? Five hundred bucks? Palmer makes the circuit through Tennessee while Wilkerson is out of state, none the wiser. He pockets thousands of dollars that his employer knows nothing about. Assuming Wilkerson really is his employer. Sounds like a lucrative scam to me.”
Hatred seemed to seethe from every pore as Palmer stared at her. The man who’d screamed in fear of a pocketknife was long gone. Had it all been an act to make her underestimate him until he could get the knife from her? Maybe he’d heard other people outside the tent and thought his shouts would draw them in as potential witnesses to say that Piper was stealing his horse? One thing was certain. Piper had bought his helpless act and didn’t appear to see him as a physical threat, in spite of his size. But Colby had dealt with men like him before. And he suspected that Palmer could be an exceedingly dangerous enemy.
“I’m not breaking any laws.” Palmer’s voice was low and threatening. “I’m doing exactly what Wilkerson asked—getting the word out about his stallion, hyping up interest.”
“This is ridiculous. You’re such a liar.” Piper flicked her hand as if Palmer was a fly buzzing around her head.
Colby shot a worried glance at Dillon. Dillon’s furrowed brow told Colby that he was just as alarmed. He subtly nodded and widened his stance like a boxer preparing to face an opponent in the ring.
Piper waved her hands again, oblivious to the tension building around her. “This lowlife is not taking my horse. I won’t allow it. If you, gentlemen, will excuse me, I need to get Gladiator home.”
Normally, Colby wouldn’t have allowed a suspect, or a witness—whichever category Piper fell into—to shove past him. But he was only too happy to get her out of harm’s way and leave Dillon with the task of calming Palmer down. So he moved aside and followed her into the aisle. But that was as far as he was letting her go. He stepped in front of the door to Gladiator’s stall so she couldn’t open it.
She frowned up at him. “Will you move out of my way?” She bared her teeth in what was presumably supposed to be a smile but looked more like a grimace. “Please?”
“Dillon,” he said, without moving out of her way. “Do you have room for one more while we straighten this out? Might take a few days, especially since it’s a weekend and no judge would tolerate us interrupting his fishing time. I hear the largemouths are really biting right now.”
“A few days?” Piper squeaked. “I’m not going to stay with someone I don’t know, cop or not. And certainly not all weekend. I need to get Gladiator home. Now.”
“We’ll make room,” Dillon said, keeping his focus on Palmer. Equal in height and brawn, Dillon could probably hold his own against the other man if it came to it. But Palmer was a good twenty or thirty pounds heavier, beefier in the chest and gut. It wouldn’t be a quick fight, or an easy one.
“I already said I’m not staying with you.” Piper didn’t sound as flippant or confident as she had earlier. Her gaze flicked from Dillon to Palmer, as if she was just beginning to sense the tension around her and how dangerous the situation had become.
“He’s not talking about you staying with him,” Colby said. “He’s talking about the horse.”
Chapter Three (#u07672194-cf46-5b11-84ea-aaab2e4dd32e)
“What?” Piper stared up at Colby, wide-eyed, the freckles standing out in stark contrast to her suddenly pale face. “What exactly are you saying?”
“Dillon has a horse rescue farm, Harmony’s Haven. He can foster Gladiator there until we straighten out who legally owns him.”
Dillon was speaking in low tones to Palmer, apparently trying to calm him down. Colby couldn’t quite make out the words. When Palmer nodded, Dillon moved back a few feet and pulled out his phone to make a call. Colby could hear him telling his ranch manager, Griffin, to double up some of the smaller horses in the stable and combine two stalls into one that was large enough to safely contain a draft horse.
Palmer snapped to attention. “Now, hold on a minute.” He stepped forward.
Dillon swept up the edge of his jacket and tucked it behind his holster, his right hand poised over the grip of his pistol.
Palmer narrowed his eyes at the unspoken threat but moved back, holding his hands up in a placating gesture. “I just want to remind you that I gave you my papers. I’ve proven that my employer made a deal to buy that horse. And Caraway’s ranch manager turned him over to me. We have a binding contract. There’s no need to take my horse.”
Piper stood on her tiptoes and leaned to the side to see around Colby. “He’s not your horse. You tricked Billy. He knows how important Gladiator is to the future of my business. He’s the last horse I’d sell, no matter how hard times get.”
“Are times hard right now?” Colby watched her closely.
A light flush colored her cheeks. “We’ve had a few...problems lately. Nothing we can’t weather. But they’ve taken their toll. That’s why I was out of town when Gladiator was stolen. I was selling some horses at an auction near Murfreesboro to try to raise enough cash to get us through a rough spot. Unfortunately, I was at the auction when Billy called me and didn’t hear my phone. By the time I got his message, Gladiator was long gone. But that all goes to prove my point. If I was going to sell him to raise funds, I’d have taken him to the auction. Or I’d have brought him upstate, where there’s a better market for Friesians and he’d bring a higher price.”
“That doesn’t prove anything,” Palmer insisted. “You didn’t have to take him to an auction because you’d already sold him to Wilkerson.”
Piper looked ready to explode after that comment. She opened her mouth to reply but Colby held up his hands to stop her.
“Obviously this isn’t something we’re going to straighten out with a conversation. You both need to chill and go to the police station on Monday so we can talk to the judge and figure out the next steps.”
Piper shook her head. “You’re making a huge mistake.”
“I’m sorry you feel that way. But I assure you that the horse will be well taken care of in his temporary home at Dillon’s place. You don’t have to worry about him.”
She glanced toward the next stall, her eyes suspiciously bright. Then she looked at Dillon.
“You’re the boss here, right? Are you okay with all of this?”
He smiled sadly. “I’m really sorry, Miss Caraway. I can tell you’re a fellow horse lover and hate to leave without your stallion. And if we could settle this just by bothering a judge on a weekend, I wouldn’t hesitate to do exactly that. But all of the courts are closed. There’s no way to verify the ownership records and make a ruling. We have to wait until Monday.”
Colby moved to the side, leaving the door to Gladiator’s stall unblocked. “You can say goodbye if you want.”
Her mouth compressed into a hard line. “I’ll say my goodbyes at your friend’s rescue farm. I insist on hauling Gladiator in my trailer to make sure he gets there safely. Unfamiliar places make him nervous.” She waved at the cut pieces of rope lying on the ground. “That’s why Palmer tied him up. Gladiator was probably terrified and caused a ruckus.”
Colby waited until she looked at him again. “If I lead the way to Dillon’s place in my truck, can I trust you to follow behind, not try to take off and make me chase you down?”
“Of course. It’s not like I could win a race towing a nearly two-ton animal behind me. I wouldn’t even try. It would endanger Gladiator.” She waved toward the rear of the tent. “My rig’s out back. A blue Ford F-350 pickup with a custom trailer. Caraway Ranch is written on the side.”
“All right. We’ll load him up in a few minutes. Dillon, you can let Griffin know that he doesn’t need to bring a trailer over here. We’ll meet him at the stables.”
Dillon nodded and pulled out his phone to send a text.
“Wait a minute,” Palmer said. “You should load him in my trailer. I can settle him in at the rescue place.”
“No need,” Colby said. “Transportation’s already arranged. But thank you for your generous offer.”
Palmer clenched his hands into fists. Dillon put his phone away and did the same. The message was clear. His adversary pursed his lips, obviously annoyed, but he relaxed his hands.
“I’ll wait outside,” Piper said. “I’ll load Gladiator after you’re finished with him.” She waved toward Palmer as if he was something that should be mucked out of a stall. Then she turned to leave.
Colby blocked her way again. “Hold it.”
She looked up in question.
He held out his hand, palm up. “Keys.”
“That’s not necessary. I’m not leaving here without my horse.”
“Of that I have no doubt. That’s why I want your keys, to make sure you don’t leave with your horse until I’m in my truck and you’re following me.”
She mumbled a few curses beneath her breath as she dug into her pants pocket. The woman’s language could make a sailor blush. She dropped the keys into his palm. “There, happy?”
“Ecstatic. Thank you.”
She whirled around and disappeared out the back of the tent.
With Piper out of harm’s way, and her keys safely in Colby’s pocket, he directed his attention to helping his partner settle things with Palmer. The guy was dangerous, no question. And Colby wasn’t about to leave his boss, his friend, without backup. He waved toward the aisle, indicating for Palmer to join him.
Dillon followed Palmer out, keeping a close eye on their potential horse thief as Palmer stopped in front of Colby.
“Let’s head out front,” Colby said. “I imagine Detective Sullivan has his hands full by now with the other horse owners wanting inside.”
Palmer followed Colby out of the tent without offering further resistance. He’d either calmed down now that Piper wasn’t insulting him, or he was putting on a good act. Not trusting the man, Colby remained on alert. He wasn’t quite Palmer’s equal physically, but he wasn’t exactly scrawny. He could give the man a decent run for his money and might even win. And it didn’t hurt that three other police officers—Blake, Dillon and Donna, who’d only recently returned with Ashley—were now standing a few feet away, armed, with the edges of their jackets tucked behind their holsters.
While Dillon and Colby had been inside the tent, Blake and Donna had both reversed their jackets and were now wearing them with the police insignia and Destiny SWAT across the back. But Donna was content to stand back with Ashley, to keep her and the baby out of potential danger. Dillon nodded his thanks.
Palmer answered more questions while Colby jotted down the information in his smart phone. Once Palmer was on his way to the parking lot, Colby shook his head. “I sure hope Miss Caraway can prove ownership of Gladiator. I’d really like to arrest that guy. There’s something smarmy about him.”
“Agreed. He gives off some odd vibes. Is it just me or did he cave way too easily on not taking the horse this weekend?”
Colby watched Palmer pull out of his parking space in the big black truck with a massive black trailer behind it but no business name on the sides. “You think he gave in too easily?”
“If I were in his position, I sure wouldn’t let my boss’s thirty-thousand-dollar stallion go to a stranger’s place without insisting a whole lot more forcefully that I be allowed to go, too, and check the place out.”
“Like Piper did?”
“Exactly.”
Blake chimed in. “If it’s her horse, what do you think the odds are that Palmer will show up at the station on Monday?”
“Not good.” Dillon grinned. “Which will give us an excuse to hunt the jerk down and throw him in jail.”
“I don’t get any of this,” Blake said. “Her background check came back clean. But so did Palmer’s and even the Wilkerson guy’s. The sheriff of Meadow County, O’Leary, told me he knows Wilkerson personally. Says the old guy’s a cantankerous jerk who cheated on his wife every chance he got and seemed oblivious that everyone knew about it. Then his wife got sick with cancer and it was like a wake-up call. He doted on her but she couldn’t be saved. Since her death, he keeps to himself. Divested himself of his business and rarely goes into town. O’Leary said it makes zero sense that Wilkerson would buy a horse, especially a Friesian. The horses he used to raise were Thoroughbreds.”
“What about Palmer? Did O’Leary know anything about him?” Colby asked.
“Not personally. Palmer lives in a different county, on the opposite side of Lexington, out of O’Leary’s jurisdiction. So he called the sheriff over there and had him search property records. Palmer owns thirty acres and has his own horse business. But it’s small potatoes compared to Miss Caraway. She’s got a few thousand acres and employs about twenty people.”
Colby shook his head. “I agree with O’Leary that Wilkerson isn’t likely to be involved. Palmer must have fixated on Gladiator, did his homework and found out that Wilkerson was Piper’s neighbor, just like she theorized. Then he used the old man’s name on the fraudulent invoice to make it seem legit—after first making sure that Miss Caraway was out of town. Which means he’s probably been watching her and planned this whole thing. But if his goal is to steal the horse, why take it to county fairs? He’s not keeping a low profile. The risk of getting caught seems pretty high compared to the money he’s making off the shows. It just doesn’t make sense.”
Blake shook his head. “It’s a puzzle for sure. I’ve got the guys back in the office digging up more info, so we should have a better picture come Monday.”
