Jacob
I’m exhausted.
Driving over an hour each way almost every day is getting old fast.
I’d forgotten how energy consuming simply being among people can be. Normally, most of my time is spent at home, in my office, working. Surrounded by computers.
I stumbled onto e-trading when I was still in the hospital in Louisville. With little else to do, I simply kept an eye on the meager savings I’d invested. With a lot of time on my hands, some common sense, and a whole lot of luck, I was able to build those modest savings into a decent portfolio.
I did well over the years, took crazy risks that sometimes failed but more often succeeded. When I’d amassed more than I’d need in my lifetime, I stuck most of it in blue-chips and other safe stocks, invested some in real estate, and handed my portfolio to a financial manager.
Then I started putting my plans for GEM into effect.
Fifteen years of work with a single goal in mind to the exclusion of everything else. The funny thing is, now that I’m so close to reaching that goal, I’m almost scared for it to be over. Because with the truth fully exposed, I could lose all that ever meant anything to me.
“You look like hell.”
I blink open an eye to find Bernie standing in the doorway.
“Thanks. Tell me what you really think.” I take my feet off the desk and sit my chair up. “What are you doing still up, Bernie?”
“I’m old, I don’t need that much sleep. And also, I was watching Jimmy Kimmel and was just turning off lights when I saw your office lights still on.”
Bernie is approaching seventy, but she’s far from old. Still sharp as a tack and not much escapes her. Of course, it helps her apartment is in the opposite wing of the house, right across the courtyard from my office. I should’ve had blinds put up.
She sits down in one of the club chairs on the other side of the desk, facing me with a stern look on her face.
“You know you’re going to run out of juice at some point, right?”
I drag a hand down my face and sigh.
“We’re close, Bernie. So close.”
Her expression softens.
“I know. I’m just worried at what cost, my friend. What happens after?”
Trust Bernie to almost pluck the thoughts from my head. I guess after taking care of me for almost fifteen years—seeing me at my worst, watching me claw back from the dark abyss I was sliding toward—she’s intimately acquainted with my demons. All of them.
“GEM will continue doing the good work. For every predator we’ve taken out, another pops up. The work is never-ending.”
“Fair enough, but what about you personally? Or maybe I should ask what about her?”
She knows my heart. Hell, she knows my entire sordid history, which is why she pinpoints with great precision the most tender of spots.
During those long, sleepless, dark nights, when pain and misery breathed new life into old trauma, she sat beside my bed, held my hand, and listened.
She stayed in touch when I was sent home. Then, when she returned to the U.S. a few months after that, she looked me up, and ended up staying. Bernice had no relatives to speak of, never had children, and we became each other’s family.
“I’m keeping my distance. She may never have to know.”
It’s hope speaking, not conviction.
I know Bernie doesn’t agree, but I’d rather stay part of her life at a distance than allow myself to get close and risk losing her completely.
“The moment you decided to come out of hiding—even using a fake identity—you set that wheel in motion. It’s inevitable someone will find you out eventually,” she foreshadows.
“Then I’ll have to deal with it as it comes, but you know I’m doing this for them as much as I am for myself.”
She shakes her head, a gentle smile on her face as she rises to her feet.
“Not as much. More.”
She brushes the creases from her blouse as she rounds the desk. Then she kisses the top of my bald head.
“Get yourself to bed, J.”
“Jesper Olson’s case was in front of a grand jury yesterday.”
On my way to Four Oaks, I had to park in a pull-off to call into the office.
“And?” I ask Mitch.
GEM had been on the trail of Jesper Olson since he first popped up as a person of interest when Opal was investigating the director of the Youth Center in Lanark. Olson had posed as one of the teenagers, but was in fact bait for a child sex exploitation ring.
He disappeared to the Bahamas, but Pearl was hot on his trail. She tracked him to West Virginia where he worked as a group counselor at a camp for troubled teens, doing much the same thing as before; coercing and exploiting minors. This time with the added offenses of kidnapping and trafficking.
We caught him however, in a joint takedown with Matt Driver and his CARD team, but he never talked.
“They got the indictment. Matt said it didn’t take long, but what was interesting was the replacement of the public defender assigned to Olson, by Herbert Rosenberg.”
“No way he’s financing that on his own.”
Rosenberg’s firm is located in Louisville and was very recently in the news for their involvement in another child sexual exploitation case involving a prominent Kentucky politician.
“Agreed,” Lee contributes. “Unfortunately, we can only guess at who is behind it. Rosenberg isn’t going to share who’s footing the bill.”
“Right. But what I find interesting is the reason behind it. I think it’s a safe bet to assume it’s Wheeler who is paying for his defense, but why? Olson isn’t talking and it wouldn’t be much for Wheeler to make sure he never does. We know what he’s capable of.”
“The only thing that makes sense is if there is a personal connection,” Onyx offers.
“The kicker is,” Mitch adds. “The next step will be in front of a circuit court judge, who could conceivably grant bail now Olson has a big law firm behind him.”
“That would be a travesty,” Lee concludes.
Just what I need, another potential loose end. In this case, one we thought we already had wrapped up. Goes to show you can never let down your guard.
“Stay on top of it, and see if you can find anything else that might connect Wheeler and Olson.”
Checking the time on my dashboard, I quickly end the meeting. Last thing I want is to raise suspicion if I show up at Four Oaks late.
It would be so much easier if I could find something closer by. Maybe I can get Bernie to look into that.
Onyx
I feel a little apprehensive.
That’s a lie. It’s really a lot. Enough to make my hands sweat around the leather saddle horn.
As sweet and placid as Murdoch seemed standing beside him, sitting on him I’m suddenly not so sure.
“Relax.”
Even Hamish’s warm baritone fails to calm me.
“You don’t understand. I was little,” I explain, “so that fall took forever and left an impression.”
“All the more reason to relax this time, because you’re not going to fall off.”
“How could you possibly know that?” I fire back, slightly panicked as Hamish starts walking Murdoch around the corral.
“Because I won’t let it.” He turns his head and looks up at me. “Lift your arms.”
“What?”
“You have a death grip on the horn, I want you to let go and raise your arms.”
“Why on earth would I want to do that?”
He’s nuts. My death grip is the only thing holding me in this saddle.
“And you’re not helping!” I yell at Kate, who is leaning over the gate, snickering at my plight.
“Because,” Hamish drawls, “you’re holding on so tight, your ass isn’t even in the saddle. You’ll never get a feel for the rhythm like that. Now, do you trust me?”
That’s a loaded question, given what he’s asking of me. Then again, I trusted him enough to share my past with. All things considered, that was even scarier than the prospect of falling off a horse.
When I let go, my butt seems to sink into the saddle.
“That’s it. Now relax and let your body follow the horse’s gait.”
I slowly lift my arms over my head and aim a triumphant grin at Kate. The next moment Hamish makes Murdoch change direction, and I start sliding. I quickly grab for the horn again.
“No, keep them up.” He puts a hand on my knee and presses in. “You don’t balance with your arms; you use your knees. Squeeze them. Once you’re more comfortable in the saddle, you can start using your knees to direct the horse.”
After a few loops around the corral, he hands me the reins and takes a step toward the center of the ring. Murdoch keeps going.
“You’re on your own.”
I fight down the initial panic I feel and actually start enjoying myself. Then I hear the ring of my phone and glance over at Kate, who’s holding it for me.
“Can you answer that for me?”
I pull back slightly on the reins, like Hamish told me and, as promised, Murdoch stops.
“Hang on.” He walks up and grabs the reins. “Dismounting is the same as mounting, but in reverse.”
He talks me through it, step by step, until I’m back on solid ground. It feels a little like stepping off a boat onto shore.
“Hold on one minute, please,” I hear Kate answer when I approach her.
“It’s Oliver Doyle,” she announces, handing me my phone. “I put the call on mute.”
“Mr. Doyle, how are you?”
Hamish has his eyes on me as he walks over, leading Murdoch.
“Ms. Baqri. I’m doing well, even better now I have you on the phone. It’s so lovely to hear your voice.”
I have an instant, physical reaction to that comment. One of aversion. I immediately steer the conversation in a more appropriate direction.
“What can I do for you, Mr. Doyle?”
“Ah, yes. I’m calling to see what might be a desirable time for us to transfer Arion’s Moon.”
“Where would that take place?” I ask.
“Grandview Estate. The property is near Russell Springs, but I will email you exact instructions on how to get there.”
I do an internal fist pump when I hear Grandview confirmed. There was no guarantee the exchange would take place there, but we’d hoped it would.
“That would be helpful, thank you. Perhaps it’s easier if you included some preferred dates and times, so I can check availability on my side?”
“Of course. The horse already has a recent Certificate of Veterinarian Inspection if that is sufficient, unless, of course, you would prefer for your own veterinarian to examine her?”
I have no idea what the right answer is, so I avoid answering and buy myself some time.
“Let me see what I can arrange, but I will inform you either way via email.”
“Of course, that would be fine. I will send that information to you shortly. It was a pleasure speaking with you,” he adds in a saccharine voice.
Yuck.
“Thank you, Mr. Doyle.”
I end the call and shiver. I feel like I need a shower.
“Do we have a date?” Hamish wants to know.
“He’s emailing some options and details. He did confirm Grandview Estate as the location.”
“No guarantee Morton Ackers will be there,” Kate points out.
“Maybe not, but I can at least poke around, talk to people, ask some innocent questions.”
“Sounds dangerous,” Hamish comments, his mouth a line.
“Don’t worry, I’ll be careful,” I appease him. “Doyle said they already have a veterinary certificate, but if we want, we can arrange for our own vet. I suggest we do that; it’ll slow down the process, giving me more time to see what I can find out about this Morton Ackers.”
“I can look into a vet,” he offers. “Right after we take care of Murdoch. Let’s go.”
He hands me the reins.
“Me?”
“There’s more to riding a horse than getting on. You’ll have to at least know how to look after the horse and the tack.”
Kate snickers behind me, as Murdoch and I follow Hamish to the stables. I figure it’s best to ignore her.
“I can take him, Ms. Baqri,” Jose offers when he sees us come in.
I’m tempted, but then I catch the look on Hamish’s face, and for some reason I don’t want to disappoint him.
“Thanks, Jose, but I’d like to take care of him myself.”
We asked Jose to come in first thing this morning, so he could get his bearings and look after Buck and Murdoch. Joey will start closer to when we pick up Arion’s Moon, it made no sense to have them both here.
Once I have Murdoch taken care of to Hamish’s satisfaction, I head inside to check my email and give Jacob a call. Hamish went to look for Jose to check if he knew any vets he could recommend.
Doyle’s email is here, with three possible dates. Either this coming Friday or Saturday, or Tuesday of next week. If it’s up to me we’d do this as soon as possible, but there’s no guarantee Hamish can organize a vet in three days. First, I should check in with Jacob.
I dial his number and he answers right away.
“Make it snappy. I’m in the middle of something.”
Great. He sounds in a mood.
“Well, hello to you to,” I snipe back. “I’ll do my best not to take up too much of your time, but I thought you’d like to know I just spoke to the agent for Pegasus GLAN, and the exchange will take place at Grandview. We have a choice either this Friday, Saturday, or the Tuesday following.”
“Saturday. That gives me a few days to get feet on the ground near Russell Springs. Tuesday is too long a wait.”
“What feet on the ground?”
“Pearl’s. Backup, just in case.”
I could get bent out of shape, but to be honest, I don’t mind the idea of Pearl having my back. Maybe we could even smuggle her in with us.
Two sets of eyes see more than one.