Stranded With The Detective. Lena Diaz
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.”
“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