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’remy 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 alongwith 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.