As he sipped his coffee and reviewed the report he was preparing to send, Sam’s phone rang. His first thought was that it might be Jasmine. But it was Nick’s name that appeared on the call screen.
“I hope I didn’t wake you.” Had Nick’s voice weakened over time, or was it just that Sam was so worried about him?
“That’s a joke,” Sam said. “I’ve been awake all night. I was about to send you my report, for what it’s worth.”
“You might want to hold off,” Nick said. “We may have had a breakthrough on the murder weapon.”
Sam’s pulse lurched. The veterinary-sized hypodermic with its eighteen-gauge, one-inch needle, had been ruled to be the murder weapon when traces of fentanyl had been found in the vial. But there’d been no trace of prints or DNA to identify Frank’s killer. What could have changed?
“Our techs had given up on finding anything,” Nick said. “But then we got a new girl on the crew who’d worked for a horse vet. She noticed how the needle was attached to the syringe with what’s known as a Luer Lock.”
“That’s a new one on me,” Sam said.
“Me, too. I won’t go into detail, but with a Luer Lock, the needle screws onto the syringe for a very secure fit. No one on my crew knew enough to unscrew the needle.When they couldn’t pull it off, they assumed the syringe and the needle were sold in one piece.”
“So when your new tech unscrewed the needle—” Sam’s heart was pounding.
“We found a trace of DNA. After the syringe was tossed in the creek, the lock kept the water out. And we got lucky. Whoever attached the lock, it appears they had trouble fitting the needle in place. As nearly as we can figure out, they wet the connection with saliva to make the threads slip and seal.”
Nick paused to clear his throat. “What we found isn’t perfectly preserved, but it should be good enough to test. We’ve sent the syringe to the central lab with samples of DNA from Roper, Darrin, Simone, and Lila. They’re working on it now. If it’s a match …” He let the conclusion hang.
CHAPTERTHIRTEEN
Roper was up at dawn, showered, shaved, and dressed in the work clothes he would change before tonight’s big event. Meanwhile, the day would belong to One in a Million—exercising, feeding, and grooming the big roan for the performance of a lifetime.
Until that performance was over, he would force his thoughts away from anything that might lay ahead. Sam had been making himself scarce, as if distancing himself for a final decision. If it came to the worst, Roper would still have the trial to try and prove his innocence. But his life would be a living hell for as long as it took.
Forcing the thought away, he left the room. There was no sign of life from across the hall, where Cheyenne was staying with their mother. Buck Tolson’s room was empty, the door left ajar. Cheyenne had told him that Buck was sending Fire Dance to his ranch. Roper had planned to thank the man in person. But for now, that would have to wait.
Downstairs, he took time to sit back, savor the restaurant’s good coffee and listen to the sounds of the world waking up—the clatter of pans from the kitchen, the humof vacuum cleaners from the casino, the swish of a revolving door. Ordinary sounds that he could be hearing for the last time.
He imagined Lila waking up in her bed, her golden hair a silken web on her pillow, a sleepy little yawn on her face. He would have given anything to spend the night with her—something they’d never done. But her protective daughter was still on guard.
Roper finished his coffee and left cash on the table. Maybe later he would have a meal. But food would be the last thing on his mind today.
In the barn, One in a Million nickered and thrust his elegant head over the gate to greet the man he’d come to accept as his master. Even without his daily grooming, the stallion looked magnificent, bright and alert, his silvery roan coat gleaming in the morning light.
One in a Million was as strong mentally as he was physically, Roper reflected as he stepped into the stall. He’d witnessed the brutal murder of his owner and survived a traumatizing accident. But he remained as calm and wise as ever.
Roper had been reluctant to use him in competition because of his age. Only Lila had believed in the big roan and urged Roper to show him one last time. Roper had insisted on borrowing a younger horse—the flashy Fire Dance. But Lila had been right. This morning, One in a Million appeared ready to take on fifteen of the best horses in the world.
And for this day, nothing else could be allowed to matter.
After some light exercise, Roper gave the stallion a shower. Back in the stall, he was giving him a vigorous rubdown when he heard a voice behind him.
“My, doesn’t he look fine?”
Lila had come into the stall. She stood at Roper’s elbow, a radiant smile on her face. It was all Roper could do to keep from crushing her in his arms. He settled for a brief but tender kiss.
“This is a nice surprise,” he said. “Where’s your bodyguard?”
“Still asleep when I left her. She watched a couple of late movies last night. And Gemma is my daughter, not my babysitter, as I have to remind her. I told her I might pay you a visit this morning.”
“Did Gemma have anything to say about that?”
“I didn’t bother to ask her. And I’m not asking you either. One in a Million ismyhorse, in case you’ve forgotten.”
“Getting sassy are you? You must be feeling better.”