Satisfied we'd have first hand information with Paul being on the scene, so to speak, with the forensics team, I changed clothes at the apartment and pursued my passion: dressage. I drove to Copper Creek Equestrian Center where my horse, Blackie, lived in the winter months, gave him a thorough grooming and tossed his saddle on. Forty minutes later, with the chill of the day chased away and replaced by a nice sheen of sweat, I dismounted and led my rock star of a horse back to the Big Barn. He hadn't put a hoof wrong for the entire ride. The transitions between extended and collected canters had been pure thought process. I hadn't had to touch his mouth once, or inspire him with any overt driving aids. Uncle Henry would be pleased I'd remembered his instructions and allowed my talented partner the freedom to best answer my aids in unrestricted balance. Days like this, when everything worked, I wondered why I'd ever thought dressage was difficult.
I was in such a happy frame of mind that the inconvenience of all four of the grooming stalls being occupied by other horses in various stages of being saddled, brushed or blanketed didn't bother me at all. I took Blackie back to his own stall, slipped his bridle off and replaced it with a halter before tying his rope to the ring on the wall with a quick-release knot. Once I'd pulled his saddle off, I went to work on his slightly sweaty coat with a clean towel. He leaned into the rubdown when I got to his shoulder. His eyelids drooped and his upper lip extended in an expression of horsey-bliss.
When I brought out the soft brushes to finish the job, a male voice called my name from the aisle. I leaned under my horse's neck to see who it was.
"Jim!" Surprise, followed closely by guilt, squeaked my voice half an octave higher. Was he here because he'd overheard my rant to Paul?
He paused in the stall doorway, eyeing Blackie like he wasn't quite sure how cautious he ought to be. "One of those gals down at the end of the barn told me you'd be in here, but all I saw was this big fella tied to the wall."
"All the grooming stalls are busy. You can come in, it's okay. He's a big love."
Jim laughed a little and gave Blackie a tentative pat on the shoulder. Blackie, usually the friendliest horse on the planet, ignored him.
A slight movement behind Jim caught my attention, and I smiled when I saw who it was. Jim's dad, a frail man with a shy smile, bundled up in a gray wool coat and matching hat with ear flaps, stayed a step back from the stall doorway. "Hi, Mr. Brown."
Leroy nodded. "Miss Campbell. Handsome horse you've got there."
"Thanks." I recalled the ring tone on Jim's phone. Bad Bad Leroy Brown. Obviously a joke. The junk-yard-dog-mean in the song didn't fit.
"What brings you here?" I asked, nearly adding "again." Jim seemed to have a knack for showing up at Copper Creek once or twice a week, and almost always when I was done riding and heading for my car. He always claimed he had a quick question and didn’t want to bother me with a phone call. Since I’d already seen him today, I hardly expected him to track me down at the barn, too.
"Dad reminded me I'd forgotten to ask you a couple of things when I was at your place. Guess the sight of those bones drove it clean out of my head. I didn't want to go back and bother Paul when he was helping those crime-scene folks."
Jim needed to be redirected to Paul if Paul was going to keep things moving. "You wouldn't have bothered him, and he might have been able to give you some information about any delays. After all, the police are there and should know if there will be any problems." I smiled to soften my tone. Leroy chuckled. Jim didn't.
"Well, sure, but I figured he'd be busy and you wouldn't … I mean -- " He grimaced. "Right. So, ah, I wanted to ask you about the, uh, kitchen cabinets. I found a really good deal on some maple. Would end up costing less than what you budgeted for. What do you say? I'll bet I could find you a good deal on some granite counter tops, too."
Okay, so he needed my input. Paul wouldn't have a clue about what to put in the kitchen. "I don't know. The maple cabinets sound great, but the granite would be too expensive."
"The building business is slow right now. I'm sure I can get you a deal, especially as a package."
A package? It sounded like the whole arrangement had already been put together. Nevertheless, I could just see the whole budget being shot to hell if due diligence wasn't observed. "If you can get granite that will look nice with the maple and won't end up costing me more than we already decided on then bring me some samples." No way was that going to happen.
"You got it." Jim grinned and stepped toward me just as Blackie swung his rump around. My horse's big hind hoof stepped squarely on top of Jim's boot. Jim sucked air. "Ayyyyeee!"
"Blackie! Get over. Now." I smacked him on the hip, only to have him shift his weight more firmly onto Jim's foot. Both Jim and I pushed at my horse until Jim was able to extract his foot.
"Are you okay?" I grabbed Jim's arm, supporting him as he caught his breath. "I'm so sorry."
Leroy, eyes wide, had backed up another couple of steps and -- I did a small double-take -- directly into Paul. He put a hand on Leroy's shoulder, steadying him, before coming into the stall.
"I thought you'd still be at the house. Are you done already?" I said.
"No, just quit for the evening. What happened?"
"Blackie stepped on Jim."
Jim tested his weight on his foot. "It's okay, I think. Seems to be okay, anyway. He's a pretty heavy guy."
"I'm really sorry," I said. "I don't think horses quite understand where their feet are sometimes." Despite the fact the words came out of my mouth, I didn't believe them for a minute. Blackie always knew where his feet were.
Paul slid me an incomprehensible look before addressing Jim. "You planning on doing some work at Copper Creek?"
Jim laughed. "No, just stopped by to see Thea and ask her about the kitchen cabinets, before taking my dad out to dinner. Figured you'd still be out there digging up bones with the fellas from the P.D."
"They closed up shop. It's getting too dark to see well, even with lights. Got a lot of the work done, though. They do a pretty impressive job." He turned to me with a slightly sardonic lift of an eyebrow. "If you're done here, Thea, I thought we'd go to dinner. Vi stopped by after you left and told me she'd forgotten it was bunco night at the senior center. She and Henry ate early."
"You sure you want to go out? We’ll be going out for New Year’s Eve tomorrow."
"Yeah, I’m sure. I’m hungry and I don’t want to wait while dinner cooks."
"Fine. Just give me another minute to finish up. I want to go home and change clothes, though."
Jim, now safely outside the stall, called my name. "I'll talk to you later, then. Let you know about the cabinets and counter."
"Thanks." I shook out Blackie's blanket and tossed it onto his back.
Paul helped me fasten the straps. "How was your ride?" he asked.
"Great. Wonderful in fact." I undid the quick-release knot from the tie ring and slipped Blackie's halter off. He nosed me for a treat and I scratched his forehead before slipping him a sugar cube. He crunched it and moved to Paul.
"Sorry, bud," Paul slapped Blackie's neck a couple of times -- a "guy" kind of pat. "And don't even think about stepping on me. She's my girl, too."
Blackie sighed and laid his chin on Paul's shoulder.
I scrutinized them. "You two have some kind of agreement I don't know about?"
"Yup. Isn't that right, Blackie?" Paul rubbed my horse's mane.
Blackie removed his head from Paul's shoulder and wandered to his hay. He brushed him as he walked past, but never stepped near his feet. We stepped into the aisle and Paul latched the stall door behind us.
"Is there a problem with the kitchen? Or was Jim just looking for an excuse to come visit?"
The sharpness of his tone caused me to stop. He cut me a quick, narrow look and continued down the barn aisle, a muscle twitching in his jaw.