The Tell-Tale Horse

CHAPTER 22

Everyone invested heavily in Faye’s company.” Gray, nightcap in hand, sat in the club chair in the den, cashmere throw over his aching legs.

Gray hadn’t ridden that hard in a long time.

Sister, opposite him on the couch, Golly in her lap, sipped hot green tea laced with fresh lemon. “Even I put a little money in.”

“First I’ve heard of it.”

“You know, I haven’t thought much about it. It was a small amount.” She was quiet for a moment. “Sometimes I forget to tell you things and other times I elect not to because I don’t want to be a pest always asking for advice.” She changed the subject. “It’s been a day none of us will forget.”

“In a way I’m glad I came back late, but I wish I could have helped you.” Gray had dismounted, walking his horse back the last two miles since both were weary. “Who else put money in Warp Speed?”

“Crawford, High, Clayton, Ramsey; even Edward chipped in a bit. I don’t know about Kasmir. What would any of those men have to gain by Faye Spencer’s death?” Sister answered her own question. “I suppose it depends on whether they wanted the company to succeed or fail. Craig and Abrams might be working on a similar product. It’s possible High Vajay would want her to fail. Investing a substantial sum would provide a cover, plus he’d be able to report on her progress. God knows, he has the money. On the other hand, he might want Faye to succeed so Craig and Abrams could buy Warp Speed and use their research without incurring the cost of duplicate effort. Someone like Crawford might want to take over the company, although killing Faye is a stupid way to do it. Crawford’s not stupid, not in that way.”

“No.” Gray half closed his eyes as the warmth of the scotch worked its way down to his stomach. “Honey, I don’t know if Lady Godiva’s special, but this has something to do with injustice. It’s revengeful. Displaying a woman like that, even dead, is humiliation. Everyone who sees her will remember her naked.”

“In the case of Aashi and Faye, they were gorgeous naked.”

“But it’s still humiliation.” Gray stuck to his point.

“Yes. Yes, it is, and the murderer wants us all to witness the humiliation. If the killer wanted to scare us, he’d disfigure the corpse. Here it’s the reverse. The women are cleaned up.”

“Odd. Compelling.”

“When I spoke to Marion today she used the same word, compelling.” Sister noticed a blue flame leap up among the yellow gold ones. She sighed deeply. “God, what an awful day. And it was the best damn run of the season. Once I got home I went into the kennels and thanked every hound that was out. Took my mind off Faye. I liked Faye.”

“Timetable. Cindy Chandler was the first person back, that we can identify. Others had to be back; you said Cindy remembered horses tied to trailers.” Gray took another much-needed sip of scotch.

“Imagine how Cindy feels.” Sister shook her head. “She’s in her kitchen while Faye Spencer is being shot behind her stable or at least washed up there. She said she never heard a shot.”

“If a person drove up, killed Faye, and drove out, someone would have seen the vehicle. Whoever killed Faye was either waiting here or rode back with the first group of people. And the gun could have had a silencer.”

“How else would the killer know Faye turned back early, right?”

“Exactly.” Gray smiled.

“Let’s pick someone we know would never do this: Lorraine Rasmussen. Lorraine asks Faye to ride back with her. Any excuse will do. Faye agrees. Lorraine is in collusion with the killer, already here.”

“Could be. Whether that’s the case or not, there was some kind of plan and a desire to cut it close. I doubt there was as big a thrill to killing the woman in Warrenton as there was to this. The killer wanted everyone here.”

“Is this a true serial killer, you think?”

Gray rubbed his aching thighs. “Yes, I think it is. Because of the media we associate serial killers with sex. Either it’s a man who kills prostitutes because he’s determined they’re evil, a man who preys on young men, or a man who kills women, regular women, who may resemble one another. But it seems to me that killing could be an incredible high, a tremendous exercise of power. Sex doesn’t have to be part of it.”

“That’s what bothers me. It is in the sense that the women are beautiful and they’re naked. Something’s missing.”

“I half want to find it and I half don’t.”

“Oh, I want to find it.” Sister’s cheeks blazed. “My hunt club member is shot, my field sees this grotesque parody of Lady Godiva. I want to find it—and him.”

“Sweetheart, I admire your sentiments, but there are times when you are too bold.”

“Like the time I decked Crawford?”

This made Gray laugh. “That was justice served.”

“Maybe this is too.”