Renaissance Man Page 9

“It’s too bad they weren’t DNA testing back then,” I mumbled. Everyone turned to look at me. “They take DNA samples at the Hanoverian foal inspections nowadays,” I explained. “But they didn’t nine years ago.” I had a troubling thought. “Since he’s lying about Hades’ identity, don’t you think Rodney might try to sell him anyway, even with the injunction?”

  “That is a possibility,” Jaden admitted. “But it’s the best we can do for now. The horse is in his barn.”

  “Don’t tell me that ‘possession is nine-tenths of the law’ crap is actually true,” Neil exclaimed.

  “For our purposes, yes,” Jaden said. “Since Hades is in Rodney’s possession it’s up to us to prove that he doesn’t belong to him.”

  “But Rodney only has him because he stole him,” I protested.

  “Allegedly stole him,” London corrected. I glared at her.

  “Well, can’t we get him back in the meantime?” Monica asked. “Don’t the police seize stolen property?”

  “Not when living creatures are involved. The system’s not set up to care for them,” Jaden explained.

  I zoned out while everyone discussed what would happen next. From the sounds of it, we wouldn’t be going to court for weeks, possibly months, so this year’s show season would be a write-off. Even if we won the case in the end, Rodney might surrender a different horse to us, having illegally sold Hades in the meantime. And if we did eventually get Hades back — and my hopes weren’t high — who knew what state he’d be in? I rubbed my temples. I couldn’t believe this was happening.

  When the meeting was over I dragged myself miserably back out to my car. Jaden had said he’d be working over the weekend, so I didn’t have the prospect of his company to look forward to, and now that I’d seen the kinds of women he worked with I had an entirely new source of unease, one that I didn’t have any emotional energy to deal with. I pushed those thoughts aside and on the drive home considered how to save both Hades and my riding career. I tried to look at the situation from every angle, but all the views were equally bleak.

  I remembered that when I’d first seen Hades my immediate impression had been ‘Clydesdale cross’. Not that he was in any way clunky, and he didn’t have a Clyde’s high knee action or the feathering on his legs. It was more his coloration, the full wavy tail, and the big head with its white stripe that made me think of those fine draft horses. It had never occurred to me to wonder at the lack of the distinctive Hanoverian breed brand. In any event, it didn’t matter to me whether he was a registered Hanoverian, one who hadn’t made the cut, or something else altogether. He was a fantastically talented horse with a personality and a half, and I missed him.

  I called Jaden the next day. “Why do you have to be at work on a Saturday?”

  He sighed. “London did me a favor by taking a horse theft case. It’s not the type of thing the firm would normally handle, and I have to make up for the hours I’m putting into it.”

  My resentment flashed over into guilt. “Oh. Sorry.”

  “It’s fine, querida,” he said warmly. “I want to get Hades back for you. It’s unfortunate that it’s going to take a while.”

  “Isn’t there anything else we can do?” I pleaded desperately.

  “Not legally.”

  “Can’t you come to Rodney’s with me? Maybe if you talked to him-”

  “I can’t do that.”

  I remembered the impotent rage I’d felt at Rodney’s. Jaden’s anger would be far more effective, but also far more dangerous.

  “Are you worried? About... losing your temper?”

  He didn’t say anything for a minute. “A hundred times I’ve wished you hadn’t seen me fight last year,” he murmured finally. His tone was bleak. “My temper has nothing to do with it. I can’t speak to Rodney directly because I’m working on a case against him. I’m required to communicate with his lawyer.”

  “Oh. Sorry. I didn’t mean-” I was instantly embarrassed.

  “It’s okay,” he said tiredly.

  Alex texted me soon after. People are talking about Hades on the COTH forums.

  The Chronicle of the Horse, or COTH for short, was a popular magazine with an active forum on its website.

  I don’t know how to tell you this, Alex went on, but they think if a horse is stolen, the thief would sell him or move him far away as fast as possible.

  It made sense because if Rodney tried to sell Hades in Ontario or Quebec he’d be recognized. But if Hades were sold in the US or Europe, he might prove impossible to find, and Monica and Neil would lose any hope of getting him back.

  I put down my phone feeling worse than ever. I should have been competing at the St-Lazare show that weekend. Instead, my body coiled itself into ever-harder knots. I kept as busy as I could — I taught lessons, rode, helped turn out and feed, and generally avoided being alone with my thoughts, but by the time Seth called on Sunday morning I was in a veritable state.

  “I just wanted to give you my new cell phone number since I’m taking off today,” Seth said. “How are you doing?”

  I simmered silently for a minute before I blew. “Freakin’ awful! That’s how I’m doing. I’m sick of this happening, do you hear me? SICK OF IT!”

  There was a long silence on the other side of the ocean before Seth chuckled. “Well don’t hold back, Sis. Tell me how you really feel.”

  I gusted out a sigh. “It’s just... I can’t believe this. It’s as though Fate is stomping on my dreams at every turn. First Zac got sold. Then Blaze died. Then I lost Marty — every time I finally have a winner, I somehow lose him. I can’t take this happening again, Seth, I just can’t.” My voice broke, but I didn’t cry. I was too angry for that.

  A pause. “What are you planning?” he asked suspiciously.

  I swallowed. “Nothing. There’s nothing I can do.” I didn’t usually lie to Seth, but he was too far away to be of help. There was no point in worrying him until my plan was a fait accompli.

  * * *

  I spent the rest of the day feverishly preparing. I needed a trailer, but I couldn’t take ours. I couldn’t risk the noise waking Dec up, and his bedroom window overlooked the spot where his truck was parked. I also wanted to drive something less easily recognizable, since Dec’s pickup had ‘Shady Lane Stables’ written on the side. I mentally ran through all the people I knew with horse trailers. I didn’t want to involve any friends in this because the fewer people who knew about it the better, so acquaintances from other barns were out. I finally realized the polo club was my best option. People trailered in horses every weekend for matches. The trailers were frequently parked overnight, and I was willing to bet the keys were often left in the trucks.

  I formulated my plan as carefully as possible, while trying to ignore the voice in the back of my head that was screeching that this was the stupidest thing I’d ever done out of a long list of very stupid things. I went outside and moved my car to the far end of the barn, instead of in front of the shed where I usually parked. Then I tried very hard to act natural for the rest of the day.

  “Try to eat something, dear,” Gran said at dinnertime. I looked down and realized I’d been moving food around my plate for a while.

  “Jaden’s pushing to get this into court as soon as possible,” Dec said. “There’s no point in worrying about it in the meantime.”

  Of course Dec wasn’t worried. He’d had mixed feelings about Hades since the beginning. I forced myself to sit through the rest of dinner so as not to arouse suspicion, but afterward, I cloistered myself in my room.

  Dec knocked on my door at ten. “Do you want me to do the bedtime check?”

  “Yes, please. I’m tired,” I replied. I got into bed fully dressed and went over my plan. There were about a hundred things that could go wrong with it, but it was the best I could do. I wished Seth were here. He’d grumble about what an idiot I was, but when he was done complaining he’d help me. At least then I wouldn’t be alone. I was dying to text Teri, but I thought it would
be better for her if she weren’t involved.

  Dec usually went to bed by eleven, but at eleven-thirty, I could still hear the TV on downstairs when I opened my door. I groaned. Of all the nights for him to stay up late. It was a quarter to twelve before I heard him and Blue, his dog, come upstairs. I wondered how long it would take them to fall asleep. I was jittery, and every minute felt like ten. I checked my bag one more time. Penlight — check. Phone — check. Courage — well, I was hoping some would materialize when I needed it.

  I pulled on my hoodie and crept down the stairs, feeling like a cliché because I was dressed head-to-toe in black. I was carrying a pair of black Mary Janes in one hand. They weren’t exactly the best style of shoe for what I had in mind, but they were the only black ones I had that were rubber-soled. I let myself out of the house carefully before slipping them on. I cringed when I started my car; it sounded deafeningly loud. I drove very slowly down the gravel drive, not waiting to see if I’d woken Dec.

  After pulling onto a dark side road near the polo club I parked the car where I hoped it wouldn’t be visible. I got out and stood for a moment, absorbing the sounds of the dark country night. I heard crickets and frogs and the odd mysterious rustle. It was too early and too cool for the cicadas yet. I took a deep breath, turned on my penlight, and headed through the woods. I soon wished I’d brought a bigger flashlight because it was pitch black in the woods and I had very little idea where I was going. The sky was overcast and there was no moonlight, which I supposed I should be thankful for, but at the moment I was feeling a bit too creeped out by the dark forest to muster any gratitude for the gloom.

  I was grateful when I stumbled into the openness of the polo grounds. They seemed brighter in comparison to the black forest, and with the help of the distant lights from the house, I could see the outline of several trucks and trailers. I hurried toward them as quietly as I could. I opened the door to the first pickup, my heart beating so loud I was afraid it would wake the horses in the nearby barn. I could never be a thief, I thought. The stress would kill me. Then again, I realized with a start, I was kind of stealing something right now. Only it was really more like borrowing. I searched the truck with my penlight but didn’t find any keys. Darn. On to the next truck. When I opened the door the cab light came on, and almost immediately I heard barking.

  “Oh, crap,” I whimpered. The dogs at the polo club knew me — I wasn’t afraid of them, but I was terrified they’d wake someone. I shut the door quickly, vaulted into the back of the pickup, and lay down. I could hear the dogs coming, and I was hoping that when they didn’t see me they’d go away. Then I heard a voice. Damn.

  “There’s nothing here.” The words were in Spanish, and I recognized the voice. I froze in the truck bed, but a second later I heard whining and paws scrabbling on the paint.

  “Téa?” Mateo’s face appeared above me. I sat up, face flaming, my heart still playing percussion.

  “Hey,” I said lamely. Mateo crossed his arms, rested them on the edge of the truck, and waited. I sighed. “I guess you want to know what I’m doing here.”

  “That would be nice,” he agreed.

  “I need a trailer. I can’t use ours, and I can’t explain why, and now you’re going to send me home-” I ground to a halt. I was dangerously close to crying.

  “Why do you need a trailer?”

  “I told you, I can’t tell you.” I sniffled.

  “Come here.” He reached over and helped me climb out of the pickup. He rested his hands on my shoulders and studied my face for a moment; now that my eyes had adjusted I could read the expression on his, too. It was concerned. “If you want my help, you will have to tell me something.”

  I brightened. “You’ll help me?”

  “Perhaps.”

  So I told him. I explained my entire hare-brained scheme, and when I was done his brow furrowed.

  “This sounds dangerous. Are you sure it’s wise?”

  “Not one bit. But I have to do it anyway.”

  He nodded, understanding. “I wish I could go with you, but I am not alone this night. Summer is waiting for me.” He glanced back toward his apartment. “I will be right back.” He jogged off and returned a minute later with a set of keys. He handed them to me and pointed out a two-horse trailer hitched to a smaller pickup. “Take that one. Good luck.”

  I flung my arms around him. “Thank you,” I said fervently.

  He patted my back. “Be careful.”

  I drove slowly down the polo club’s driveway with the headlights off. When I got to the road I checked the time. Almost one a.m. It was later than I’d hoped because my destination was almost two hours away, but at least phase one of my plan had worked, thanks to blind luck and Mateo’s kindness.

  The drive was numbing, although it went faster than expected since there was no traffic. The highway was well-lit, but once I exited I squinted tensely through the windshield, afraid to miss a turn in the dark. I’d plotted my route online, and the printed map was stuffed in my bag, but everything looked so different in the dark. After driving a few miles I realized I must have missed a sign somewhere and turned around, cursing. I drove slower this time, peering at every opening, and finally found the road I was looking for, the sign largely obscured by branches. When I found the address I drove past it and parked in a pool of darkness. I leaned my head back against the seat and took a few deep breaths. You can do this, I encouraged myself. You have to do this. I got out of the truck, closing the door as quietly as possible, and pulled the strap of my messenger bag over my head and onto my shoulder. I lowered the trailer’s ramp, cursing when the metal creaked loudly in the stillness of the rural night. Then I headed for the barn.

  Five

  I walked down the shadowed road on legs that were shaking from adrenaline. When I got to the small paddock separating the barn from the road I paused. I didn’t want to go up the driveway in case there were motion-activated lights. I felt my way carefully around the far side of the paddock. There was room enough for a person and horse to get through between the fence and surrounding bushes. I turned and looked toward the trailer; from my vantage point, it was obscured by trees which meant it wouldn’t be visible from the house, either.

  I headed for the barn, creeping stealthily. Most barns are kept unlocked at night because it’s important to be able to get in quickly in case of emergency. Security consists mainly of lights and barn dogs. Dogs were surprisingly effective deterrents, but you can’t keep aggressive barn dogs at a public stable. They were kept for their bark, not their bite. I peeked around the corner and saw the dog I’d noticed on my previous visit, chained to his doghouse as he had been then. I gave mental thanks that I’d remembered him as I pulled a steak out of my bag and unwrapped it before rounding the corner. He barked once before noticing what I’d flung at him. Then he grabbed the steak and disappeared into the doghouse with his prize.

  I turned and felt my way slowly into the barn. My heart was thundering so loudly in my ears that anyone could have snuck up on me. Once I was well inside I clicked on my penlight and shone it into the stall where I’d last seen Hades. The face that blinked back was grey.

  No no no no, I screamed inside my head. Could Rodney have sold him already? I swallowed back my panic and went down the aisle, shining my tiny light into each stall. I hadn’t gone far when I heard a deep, urgent nicker. I spun around. Hades was straining against the bars of a stall at the far end of the barn. I ran over and slipped inside.

  “Come on buddy, we have to be quick,” I whispered to him. I yanked the halter I’d brought out of my bag and pulled it onto his head. The lead rope was already attached. We took two steps out of the stall and I froze. Shoes. Dammit, why hadn’t I thought about how much noise metal shoes would make on a cement floor? Maybe because it was a sound I heard every day, a good, familiar sound in the context of normal daytime activity. But here in the stygian stillness, it was deafeningly, frighteningly loud. I wracked my brain quickly. I could search the barn
for something to tie around Hades’ hooves, but every second I delayed increased my chances of getting caught. That steak wouldn’t last forever. I decided to chance it.

  “Try to tiptoe,” I muttered, pulling Hades forward again. I winced with every step he took, but we made it out of the barn without hearing anything unusual. I turned quickly toward the path around the paddock, grateful for the darkness that swallowed us up. Hades was crowding me, almost stepping on me, and I realized he was nervous too.

  “It’s okay, baby,” I murmured, patting him. “You’ll be home soon.”

  A dog started to bark. Not the outside dog; this sound was coming from inside the house — Rodney’s house. I broke into a jog and Hades gamely trotted next to me. I kept him at the road’s edge so the clatter of his shoes wouldn’t be so loud, but in any case, it couldn’t compete with the crashing of my heart. When we got to the trailer I jogged up the ramp and was brought up short when I hit the end of the lead rope. I turned around.

  Hades was planted on the road, four legs wide, tossing his head up and rolling his eyes.

  “Not now,” I whimpered. I went and stood next to him and patted his neck. “Come on, buddy, you’ve never been afraid of trailers before.” I tried walking up the ramp again. Hades didn’t move. Dammit, I thought. Impotent panic made tears run down my face. Of all the stupid ways for us to get caught, Hades refusing to load had never entered my mind. Then again, he was a very big horse, and he might never have been in a two-horse trailer before.

  I put my arms around his head. “Please, Hades, please, just trust me,” I implored. My tears glued us together, cheek to cheek. I tried again, holding his halter with one hand and stroking him continuously with the other. He followed me hesitantly, squeezing into the tight space, and I tied him quickly before jumping out and running to raise the ramp. Then I ran for the truck, leaped in, and started driving.

  I didn’t care where I was going at first. I was moving away from Rodney’s, shaking with terror. I gripped the wheel as though my life depended on it and tried to slow my breathing. I couldn’t afford to hyperventilate. Clearly, I wasn’t suited to a life of crime. I kept expecting a commotion to break out behind me, sirens or screeching tires and speeding headlights, but all was calm and after a few minutes my shaking eased and my panting slowed. I started to pay attention to where I was going, and I found a road leading back to the highway. I drove very slowly because Hades wasn’t wearing any leg protection, and if he lost his balance in the trailer he could step on himself and do real damage with his metal shoes.