Stranded With The Detective

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 nervous.” She waved at the cut pieces of rope lying on the ground. “That’s why Palmer tied him up. Gladiator was probably terrified and caused a ruckus.”

Colby waited until she looked at him again. “If I lead the way to Dillon’s place in my truck, can I trust you to follow behind, not try to take off and make me chase you down?”

“Of course. It’s not like I could win a race towing a nearly two-ton animal behind me. I wouldn’t even try. It would endanger Gladiator.” She waved toward the rear of the tent. “My rig’s out back. A blue Ford F-350 pickup with a custom trailer. Caraway Ranch is written on the side.”

“All right. We’ll load him up in a few minutes. Dillon, you can let Griffin know that he doesn’t need to bring a trailer over here. We’ll meet him at the stables.”

Dillon nodded and pulled out his phone to send a text.

“Wait a minute,” Palmer said. “You should load him in my trailer. I can settle him in at the rescue place.”

“No need,” Colby said. “Transportation’s already arranged. But thank you for your generous offer.”

Palmer clenched his hands into fists. Dillon put his phone away and did the same. The message was clear. His adversary pursed his lips, obviously annoyed, but he relaxed his hands.

“I’ll wait outside,” Piper said. “I’ll load Gladiator after you’re finished with him.” She waved toward Palmer as if he was something that should be mucked out of a stall. Then she turned to leave.

Colby blocked her way again. “Hold it.”

She looked up in question.

He held out his hand, palm up. “Keys.”

“That’s not necessary. I’m not leaving here without my horse.”

“Of that I have no doubt. That’s why I want your keys, to make sure you don’t leave with your horse until I’m in my truck and you’re following me.”

She mumbled a few curses beneath her breath as she dug into her pants pocket. The woman’s language could make a sailor blush. She dropped the keys into his palm. “There, happy?”

“Ecstatic. Thank you.”

She whirled around and disappeared out the back of the tent.

With Piper out of harm’s way, and her keys safely in Colby’s pocket, he directed his attention to helping his partner settle things with Palmer. The guy was dangerous, no question. And Colby wasn’t about to leave his boss, his friend, without backup. He waved toward the aisle, indicating for Palmer to join him.

Dillon followed Palmer out, keeping a close eye on their potential horse thief as Palmer stopped in front of Colby.

“Let’s head out front,” Colby said. “I imagine Detective Sullivan has his hands full by now with the other horse owners wanting inside.”

Palmer followed Colby out of the tent without offering further resistance. He’d either calmed down now that Piper wasn’t insulting him, or he was putting on a good act. Not trusting the man, Colby remained on alert. He wasn’t quite Palmer’s equal physically, but he wasn’t exactly scrawny. He could give the man a decent run for his money and might even win. And it didn’t hurt that three other police officers—Blake, Dillon and Donna, who’d only recently returned with Ashley—were now standing a few feet away, armed, with the edges of their jackets tucked behind their holsters.

While Dillon and Colby had been inside the tent, Blake and Donna had both reversed their jackets and were now wearing them with the police insignia and Destiny SWAT across the back. But Donna was content to stand back with Ashley, to keep her and the baby out of potential danger. Dillon nodded his thanks.

Palmer answered more questions while Colby jotted down the information in his smart phone. Once Palmer was on his way to the parking lot, Colby shook his head. “I sure hope Miss Caraway can prove ownership of Gladiator. I’d really like to arrest that guy. There’s something smarmy about him.”

“Agreed. He gives off some odd vibes. Is it just me or did he cave way too easily on not taking the horse this weekend?”

Colby watched Palmer pull out of his parking space in the big black truck with a massive black trailer behind it but no business name on the sides. “You think he gave in too easily?”

“If I were in his position, I sure wouldn’t let my boss’s thirty-thousand-dollar stallion go to a stranger’s place without insisting a whole lot more forcefully that I be allowed to go, too, and check the place out.”

“Like Piper did?”

“Exactly.”

Blake chimed in. “If it’s her horse, what do you think the odds are that Palmer will show up at the station on Monday?”

“Not good.” Dillon grinned. “Which will give us an excuse to hunt the jerk down and throw him in jail.”

“I don’t get any of this,” Blake said. “Her background check came back clean. But so did Palmer’s and even the Wilkerson guy’s. The sheriff of Meadow County, O’Leary, told me he knows Wilkerson personally. Says the old guy’s a cantankerous jerk who cheated on his wife every chance he got and seemed oblivious that everyone knew about it. Then his wife got sick with cancer and it was like a wake-up call. He doted on her but she couldn’t be saved. Since her death, he keeps to himself. Divested himself of his business and rarely goes into town. O’Leary said it makes zero sense that Wilkerson would buy a horse, especially a Friesian. The horses he used to raise were Thoroughbreds.”

“What about Palmer? Did O’Leary know anything about him?” Colby asked.

“Not personally. Palmer lives in a different county, on the opposite side of Lexington, out of O’Leary’s jurisdiction. So he called the sheriff over there and had him search property records. Palmer owns thirty acres and has his own horse business. But it’s small potatoes compared to Miss Caraway. She’s got a few thousand acres and employs about twenty people.”

Colby shook his head. “I agree with O’Leary that Wilkerson isn’t likely to be involved. Palmer must have fixated on Gladiator, did his homework and found out that Wilkerson was Piper’s neighbor, just like she theorized. Then he used the old man’s name on the fraudulent invoice to make it seem legit—after first making sure that Miss Caraway was out of town. Which means he’s probably been watching her and planned this whole thing. But if his goal is to steal the horse, why take it to county fairs? He’s not keeping a low profile. The risk of getting caught seems pretty high compared to the money he’s making off the shows. It just doesn’t make sense.”

Blake shook his head. “It’s a puzzle for sure. I’ve got the guys back in the office digging up more info, so we should have a better picture come Monday.”