Chapter Nine #3
Though he hadn’t been here before, the barn was easy to find, and he knew the stall number.
The security guard recognized the Culhane name and let him in the gate.
The earthy smell of horses assaulted his senses as he walked past the rows, looking for the right number in the dim glow of the security lights.
Darrin hated horses and wanted nothing to do with them.
The hours his father had forced him to spend in the saddle were among the worst memories of his life.
Had his mysterious so-called brother known that when he chose the barn for a meeting place?
After a couple of wrong turns, Darrin found the correct row and headed down it, following the stall numbers in the dim glow of the security lights.
The three stalls leased to the Culhanes were just ahead. Darrin had half-expected to see someone waiting for him. But he appeared to be alone. A nervous shiver ran like an icy finger down his spine. Was this a trap? Was he about to be beaten and robbed?
His cell phone was in his pocket. Standing in front of the stalls, he pulled it out. He was about to enter the number he’d been given when a short, lumpy figure stepped out of the shadows.
“What’s going on here, Darrin?” Simone demanded. “Why are you sneaking around, keeping secrets from me?”
Darrin bit back a curse. Why hadn’t he checked to make sure he wasn’t being followed? Now Simone could ruin everything. All he could do now was hope to get her on his side.
“I want the truth,” she said, placing her hands on her hips. “Now.”
With no time to think of a good lie, Darrin spilled a condensed version of his story. Simone listened, shaking her head in disbelief.
“Some stranger calls, claiming to be your long-lost brother? That sounds like a scam to me, or worse. Why does he want to meet in a place like this? He could rob you and leave you with your throat slit!”
“I didn’t ask you to come, Simone,” Darrin said. “Now that you’re here, just be quiet and stay back. Meeting this man and hearing his offer is my decision.”
“Then you’re an idiot!” Simone sputtered. “What are you doing with that phone?”
“Calling to let him know I’m here—and now I’ll have to warn him that you’re here, too.” Darrin started to enter the number he’d been given.”
“You’re crazy! He’ll come with his friends and kill us both! Give me that phone!”
“Get back! This is my business, not yours!” Darrin had mis-entered the number. He deleted it and started over.
“You’re my business! I’m your wife!” She sprang at him. Darrin tried to hold the phone out of reach, but she was too fast for him. Before he could stop her, she had snatched the phone from his hand and tossed it over the gate, into the nearest stall.
Darrin stared at her, horrified.
“You’ll thank me later,” she said calmly. “Maybe by the time you find your phone, you will have come to your senses.”
White-hot rage sizzled through Darrin’s veins. “Damn you, woman, this mess is all your fault. You’re the one who had to have that house. You’ve pushed me, bullied me, treated me like I was no better than a dog. I’m sick and tired of it!”
Driven by anger, he doubled his fist and swung hard, slamming her in the jaw. She doubled over and collapsed, whimpering like a kicked puppy.
Leaving her, Darrin strode to the stall gate, which was latched but surprisingly wasn’t locked.
Slipping through the gate, he clicked the latch shut behind him.
Even with the night lights, the interior of the stall was in deep shadow, and his only flashlight was on his phone.
To find it, he would have to grope his way over the layer of dirty straw that covered the floor of the stall.
Damn Simone to hell for putting him through this.
He could smell the horse and hear it breathing in the shadows.
A shudder of revulsion passed through his body.
He would need to make sure he didn’t get too close to the beast or crawl through its droppings.
But never mind that. All that really mattered was finding his phone and connecting with the man who claimed to be his brother.
He had dropped to his knees and was feeling for the phone when a dark shape rose from the corner of the stall. A shriek of animal fury rang out as the creature loomed over him—eyes flashing white rims, teeth bared, steel-shod hooves flailing like deadly clubs.
Outside the stall, Simone screamed. Her voice was the last thing Darrin heard.
Sam got the call toward morning. By the time he arrived at the stable, the police were there.
Darrin Culhane’s body had been bagged and taken away.
His hysterical wife had been transported to the hospital, and the wild-eyed stallion had been lassoed and immobilized with ropes.
Horses in the nearby stalls, including One in a Million, had been moved out of the way.
Sam had been called, almost as an afterthought, when one of the officers had remembered the FBI agent’s connection to the Culhanes.
After the initial shock, Sam’s first thought had been for Jasmine.
She’d never gotten along with Darrin, but they were brother and sister.
He would call her as soon as he found out more.
It would be up to her to contact her mother.
Roper was here. He stood back, watching while the officers and crime-scene crew did their work and gathered their gear.
Sam moved to his side. “What the hell happened here?” he asked.
“Nobody knows for sure. One of the security guards found Darrin dead in Fire Dance’s stall. His phone was a few steps away, like he might have dropped it. Simone was huddled on the floor outside the stall—she was rocking back and forth, saying she’d killed him.”
“Do the police think that’s true?” Sam asked.
“It doesn’t look that way. But we won’t know what really happened until she’s able to tell her story.”
Sam made a mental note to arrange an interview with Simone in the hospital. This wasn’t his case, but he was looking for connections. The fact that a father and son had both died in a stall with a stallion could be a coincidence. If so, it was an odd one.
Sam had spoken last night with Lila’s daughter, Gemma, in the hospital. She’d claimed that Simone was following her, but she hadn’t seen the assailant who’d drugged her with chloroform. It would have almost certainly been Darrin, but there was no proof.
And now this.
“What about the horses?” he asked.
“You’ve seen Fire Dance,” Roper said. “It took four strong men to get him roped and tied so we could get Darrin’s body out of the stall. The poor bastard doesn’t understand what he’s done. He was only trying to be safe.”
“Is One in a Million all right?”
“I hope so. I moved him to a quiet stall. But what he heard in the night could have affected him—especially since he’s already witnessed one death.”
Roper’s jaw tightened. Both men were aware that tomorrow night the week would end with the Run for a Million. And if no new evidence turned up, Sam would have a heartbreaking decision to make.
“Blast it, Sam,” Roper said, “I know you’ve got a job to do, but I didn’t kill Frank. You have to believe that.”
“I want to believe it,” Sam said. “But let’s put that aside while I focus on what happened here. If something important shows up, I don’t want to miss it.”
Sam forced himself to concentrate on what he already knew. Maybe he’d been wrong, dismissing Darrin as Frank’s killer. Darrin could’ve had any number of motives to kill his father. His only alibi had been his wife—and he could have tossed the murder weapon in the creek on his way back to town.
Now, with Darrin dead, it would be easy to hang the murder on him—especially if Simone were to admit that she’d slept soundly through the night. The case would be closed to everyone’s satisfaction. At the very least, having a second suspect would help Roper’s chances at trial.
“What the hell—?” Hayden had come around the end of the row. He looked hungover, probably from last night’s celebration of his win. His bewildered gaze took in the trussed horse and the crew of police technicians who were still bagging their gear. Sam caught his attention and beckoned him over.
“What’s going on?” Hayden demanded.
“There’s been a death,” Sam said. “A man—Darrin Culhane—was killed in the night when he wandered into your horse’s stall. It appeared he was attacked by the horse. Did you know him?”
“I know he’s—was—a Culhane, but we never met. And that horse isn’t mine.”
“I was given to understand you were the owner. That’s what Roper McKenna told me.”
“Roper doesn’t know yet,” Hayden said. “That horse isn’t mine anymore. As of last night, he belongs to Miss Cheyenne McKenna.”