The Tell-Tale Horse

CHAPTER 21

Lady Godiva,” Sister whispered, trotting to the paddock.

Ilona Merriman, sobbing, screaming, was forcibly removed from the scene by Ramsey. Cabel Harper and High Vajay stood in mute horror.

Nonni threw a shoe, so Ben Sidell, who had turned back early, took charge. He estimated Faye had been in the paddock for perhaps a half hour. She remained quite warm. The ropes tying her to Caneel had not yet rubbed her wrists and ankles raw. One by one, he had noted the names of the fifteen people who had reached Foxglove Farm first.

Sister rode up to him. “What can I do?”

“Herd everyone away from here. The people who were here need to stay briefly. They’re in the stable.”

“Fine.”

Diddy had shot off to the crime scene. She wanted to know what the fuss was. She stood on her hind legs, sniffing Faye’s foot and left leg. Shaker called her away, and she raced back to squeeze through the door held partway open. She then told the pack what she’d smelled.

“Blood?” asked Ardent.

“No, perfume. Ladies wear perfume,” Dragon said.

“Not supposed to,” Tinsel added. “The only person wearing scent should be the fox.”

“Would you recognize that perfume again?” Diana asked.

“Sure.”

“Could be Faye’s perfume,” Trinity logically added.

“Could,” Diddy agreed. “But if I catch wind of it again, I’ll tell you.”

“Shaker, you, Betty, and Sybil ask everyone out here to please leave. The people who came back early are in the stable. Ben requests that we get everyone else out to cut down on the confusion,” Sister commanded.

“Right.” He could see the ghastly figure in the near distance, Caneel with her head down, half asleep.

“Be sure to get the Custis Hall girls out. They don’t need to see this. They should be back any minute.”

Sister dismounted, loosened Keepsake’s girth, threw a rug over him, removed his bridle, and put his halter on in four minutes flat, then ran to the Custis Hall van looking for Charlotte Norton. The headmistress and the riding coach, Bunny Taliaferro, weren’t back.

She passed Sybil on her return to the paddock.

“Sister, are you all right?” the second whipper-in asked.

“I don’t know,” Sister replied. “Seeing this once was bad enough. Twice is horrifying. But I swear to you, Sybil, this bastard is on my turf now and I will get him.”

“Be careful.”

“You too.” Sister touched Sybil’s shoulder and raced back to the paddock.

Two sirens ruined the quiet of the day, now 12:20 P.M.

Ben turned to her. “Like Warrenton?”

“Yes. The obvious difference being Caneel is a real horse and Faye is tied, but same modus operandi, naked and shot through the heart.”

He walked around Caneel, in step with Sister. “No sign of a struggle. No bruises. No sign of torture obviously.”

“Caneel is untouched.”

He blinked, realizing once again how sharp this old woman was. She knew he’d concentrate on the human; she focused on the horse. Every second might yield a clue that would be lost within minutes or disturbed in removing the corpse.

“Whoever did this knows horses.” Ben returned to his starting point.

“Yes.” She named a tranquilizer. “I expect Caneel’s shot full of Banamine. She’ll be fine when it wears off.”

“Will you go in the stable, write down everyone’s name, the time they returned, anything they noticed?”

“Boss,” Shaker called over the fence, “some of the people can’t go because they’re vanning with people in the barn.”

“Tell them to wait,” Ben answered. “Shouldn’t be too long.”

Sister walked into the barn. Cindy was there, ashen-faced. “I need a tablet and a pencil,” Sister told her.

Wordlessly, Cindy opened the door to the small office, reappearing with a spiral notebook and a small green golf pencil.

Ilona, slumped on a tack trunk, couldn’t stop crying, gulping in huge gasps of air.

“High Vajay,” Sister asked, “when did you return?”

“Noon.”

“When did you notice Faye?”

“Perhaps five minutes after that. I opened the gate to the paddock and ran over. She was already dead.”

“Ramsey?”

“I was behind Vajay. I ran into the paddock too. Ilona came right after me.”

Sister looked at Ilona, thinking she’d speak to her last. Perhaps by then a deputy would be here who would be better at this than she was.

Ronnie Haslip, Henry Xavier, Cindy Chandler, Cabel Harper, and Lorraine Rasmussen were each questioned.

Ty Banks, Ben’s young deputy, walked into the stable. He conferred quietly with Sister as the emergency vehicle pulled to the paddock.

Ilona, startled, ran to the open stable doors. She started screaming again.

Ramsey hurried to her. “Honey, please. There’s nothing you can do.”

“Who would do this?” Ilona wailed.

Ramsey put his arm around his distraught wife, guiding her back to the tack trunk, where she collapsed with a thump.

Sister whispered to Ty, “I don’t think Ilona’s ever seen a corpse. She’s usually sensible.”

Sister’s generation had seen death more often than had younger generations whose families died mostly in hospital beds. Perhaps it was not a good thing that people today were so removed from the normal life cycle.

As Ty took over, Sister walked out with Cindy.

“Maybe I should stay in the barn. I came back early,” Cindy said, forlorn.

The two women walked back in. Cindy asked Ty what he wanted her to do. He told her he’d get to her, but since this was her farm she might be needed outside.

The two women walked back out.

“Have you talked to Ben?”

“No. I came in around eleven and put my horse up. By eleven twenty I was in the house getting things ready for the breakfast.”

“Did you hear any cars?”

“No. But I wasn’t listening. Same with people returning. The windows were closed and I didn’t pay attention. I didn’t know anything was wrong until I heard Ilona scream.”

“Do you recall looking at the paddock when you rode up?”

“Yes, Caneel whinnied to Booper. She performed a pirouette and that was that.”

Booper was Caneel’s stablemate, the horse Cindy rode today.

“No sign of Faye, alive, I mean?”

“No. There were some horses tied at trailers, but I didn’t pay attention. I figured it was the usual case of broken tack, thrown shoes, you know.”

“Can you remember how many horses?”

“Oh, dear.” Cindy frowned. “Three? Four?”

Sister grabbed Cindy’s hand. “Come with me.”

They stepped quickly to Faye’s trailer, a well kept two-horse. Clayton’s mare, the loaner, was untacked, wiped down, a fresh cooler draped and cinched over the pleasant animal.

“Well, she had time to put up the horse,” Cindy noted.

“Or someone else did.” Sister stepped up into the small tack room. She touched nothing. “Everything looks in order. I’m going to stay here so no one comes in this room. Will you run to Ben and tell him he needs to dust this tack and the halter? If there are prints other than Faye’s we might get to first base.”

Cindy dashed for the paddock, not wishing to see the dead woman but knowing Sister’s plan was vital. She hastily told Ben and turned on her heel. Before she bolted through the gate, Ben called out, “Cindy, do you want me to leave Caneel in the paddock?”

The answer was yes.

Sister remained in the tack room for another twenty minutes. As she did, she observed the fifteen people filing out of the stable, all disturbed.

Once the fingerprint team arrived, Sister returned to Ben, now at the gate, as Faye’s body, in a plastic bag, was rolled out on a gurney.

“Had she been cleaned up?”

Ben nodded. “Yes, but this time the killer didn’t have much time. My guess is she was hosed down at the outside pump.” He pointed to the frost-free water pump, hose attached. A puddle, slowly being absorbed, was on the ground. “I looked around for rags. None. When we lifted her off, we noticed she had been sprayed; she was still wet.”

“Faye was beautiful even in death. Two beautiful victims,” Sister stated.

“Faye knew electronics, right?”

“She was on the cutting edge.”

Shaker joined them. “Charlotte came in just before the girls. She and Bunny got them out of here before they could see the body.”

“Good. You can’t protect young people from the world, but with something like this you must try.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “Could they be in danger? The kids?”

“I don’t know,” Ben honestly replied, “but right now I would caution every woman to be careful. If you leave the hunt field, leave in twos. If you go out at night, go in twos.” He spoke directly to Shaker. “Watch out for Sister. The punch bowl in her stable office is hardly a good omen.”

“I will.”

“Sister, carry your thirty-eight. You have a permit for a concealed weapon. Do not leave your house without that gun. I mean it.”

She appreciated their concern, making light of it. “I’m not young and beautiful. I’m safe.” Then she changed the subject. “Wonder if the wound was made by the same gun?”

“We’ll find out. I’m willing to bet she wasn’t sexually molested.”

“Same killer?” Sister’s silver eyebrows lifted, then dropped.

“I’m not supposed to speculate, but I think it is. The public display of the corpse?” He paused a long time. “Let’s just say something like that infuriates and motivates those of us in law enforcement. The killer is thumbing his nose at us.”

“All of us,” Shaker added. “Ben, I’d like to get the hounds back. They hunted hard.”

“Sure.”

Ty Banks walked in, folding back his cell phone. “Called her office. Two people working on Saturday. Figured you’d want to question them, so I asked them to stay at work until we get there.”

“Good.”

Betty, patiently waiting for Sister, waved when she saw them looking in her direction.

“May I be excused?” Sister asked Ben. “I need to get the horses back.”

“You may.”

“I just noticed the daffodil in your buttonhole. For St. David’s Day, the patron saint of Wales?”

He nodded. “Mother’s proud of her Welsh blood.”

“A strong people. You’ll need that strength on this case.”