Christmas Countdown

Mac stared over at her, at the surety in her whiskey-brown eyes as she searched his face with her gaze. His throat tightened. He could easily fall under her spell if he didn’t pull back.

He turned abruptly, waiting for the sound of the horse breaking from the far left end of the track.

The fog dampened the swish of the mock starting gate, but there it was, hoofbeats pounding Kentucky soil. He raised the stopwatch in front of him, feeling his heart rate shoot up. Closer … closer … the colt flashed in front of them.

Mac started the clock, listening to the horse thunder down the front stretch and into the first turn.

Emma put her hand on his forearm and shook him. “I told you he’s fast. I know he can win.”

Her excitement leached into him and he let a degree of the sensation move through his body. Focusing, he turned his head to the right and picked up the hammering of hooves as Navigator thundered his way down the backstretch.

He didn’t dare look at the time; instinctively he knew it would be incredible. Better to wait until the colt passed in front of him. Seeing would usher in believing, and then some.

There was trouble. Mac felt it first telegraph through the top rail pipe that ran the entire length of the racetrack. Seconds later Josh’s yelp of pain reached out through the fog.

“Something’s wrong!” Emma squeezed his arm.

Navigator galloped from the mist minus his rider and shot past them on the inside rail.

Mac pressed the stopwatch and shoved it into his pocket.

“Take Oliver and go find Josh, I’ll go after the colt!” Emma said. She ran through the opening in the gate.

Mac turned for the pony horse at the same time he heard her shrill whistle for the riderless colt.

He jerked the knotted reins loose from the rail, untied the pony horse, jammed his foot in the stirrup and climbed aboard. He hadn’t ridden in years, but riding a horse was like riding a bike. You never forgot.

Spurring him forward, Mac trotted through the gate and out onto the track. Josh was somewhere on the back turn. That’s when he’d felt the vibration of Navigator’s impact with the outside rail. He reined the gelding to the inside and eased him into a lope.

A hundred yards around the track the fog vanished, giving him a clear view of the back turn.

Josh lay in a crumpled heap next to the outside rail at the one-mile post.

Worry ground over Mac’s nerves.

The kid wasn’t moving.

He nudged the horse into a gallop and reined him in just short of the spot where he lay.

“Josh! Can you hear me, buddy?”

Mac bailed off of Oliver and dropped the reins.

Going to his knees, he put his hand on the kid’s shoulder.

Josh moaned, rolled to the left and tried to sit up, but Mac held him down with gentle pressure. “No way, stay put.”

Mac gritted his teeth, staring at the dazed expression on the young man’s dirt-smudged face, but it was the deformity in his right forearm and the protruding bone, that told him Josh shouldn’t be moved. He was going to need a trip to the hospital ASAP.

“I gotta catch the horse.” Josh tried to sit up again.

Mac pressed his palm into his chest. “Relax, Emma is taking care of it. She’ll catch him. You broke your arm. Stay still.”

Josh glanced down at his right forearm and went pale.

“What happened?” Mac asked, praying he could get the kid’s attention before he passed out cold.

“I couldn’t see when I hit the midpoint on the backstretch.”

“The mist?”

“A flash of red light hit me in the eyes—”

“A laser?”

“Could have been. But it must have targeted Navigator too, because he went wide and slapped the rail. I couldn’t hang on. I hope he’s okay.”

Mac looked up and saw Emma and Navigator materialize out of the mist and into the sunlight.

“Is Josh all right?” she hollered the instant she was within earshot.

He waited until she stopped ten feet out, holding Navigator by the reins and trying to calm him down.

“Broken arm. He needs an ambulance, and we need the sheriff. This was no accident. They were targeted with a laser. Blinded. Probably from somewhere in the woods.”

Mac swept the grove of dense foliage with his gaze and considered looking for the perpetrator or perpetrators, but the shroud of fog would make it almost impossible to find them. And he had no intention of leaving Emma, Josh or Navigator alone right now.

Emma couldn’t prevent her hand from shaking when she pulled her cell phone out of her coat pocket and dialed 911. This was a turn she hadn’t anticipated. Whoever was behind the threats against her horse apparently wasn’t afraid to hurt his human handlers, as well.

She’d need Mac Titus now more than ever.

“WE FOUND THIS last night after someone attempted to get into Navigator’s stall. It could have the man’s fingerprints on it.” Mac handed the glove encased syringe to Sheriff Riley Wilkes.

“This happened last night?”

“Yeah, just after I arrived around 10:00 p.m. I heard Miss Clareborn scream, booked it to the stable and caught the man trying to run. I tackled him, but he got away. My guess is he wanted to administer whatever’s in that hypodermic to her horse.”

Mac watched the ambulance carrying Josh pull away and considered his revelation about McCluskie’s Derby prospect. “Josh mentioned one of Rambling Farm’s horses had some trouble last night, too. Maybe the incidents are related.”

“I’ll get this to the lab and speak with Chester about it. There’s been some trouble at other farms in the area over the last couple of weeks. The horsemen are concerned.”

Caution pulled Mac’s nerves tight. “Any other horses targeted with lasers on the practice track?”

“Not specifically. But I can tell you two of the reported incidents have been at farms where Victor Dago stabled horses. I’m glad to hear you’ve been hired as a bodyguard by Miss Clareborn to look after her horse. Keep your eyes open and contact me immediately if anything else happens.”

Mac took the business card Sheriff Wilkes dug out of his shirt pocket. “I will, and we’d like to know the results of the toxicology on the syringe’s contents as soon as possible.”

“I’ll put a rush on it.” The sheriff turned to one of his deputies.