Tami Hoag - Dark Horse

The supervisor stared at me. "Berne is on his way," he said. "And a couple of deputies. Have a seat, Miss…?"

I didn't answer and I didn't sit, though my back was aching like a son of a bitch from the beating I'd taken.

"You'll need to tell the deputies to treat that stall area as a crime scene," I said. "In addition to letting the horses loose, your perp assaulted me when I tried to run him off. They'll find a pitchfork or a broom-something with a long handle-that may have his prints on it. I'll want to press charges. And I'll want to go to the emergency room for an examination, and to have them take photographs of my bruises. I may sue. What kind of management does this place have if they can't keep people or animals safe?"

Bullfrog looked at me as if he'd never seen one of my kind before. "Who are you?"

"I'm not telling you my name."

"I need your name, miss. I have to make a report."

"That's a problem then, because I'm not telling you," I said. "I don't have to tell you anything. You're not an officer of the court or of the government, and therefore you have no right to demand information of me."

"Deputies are on the way," he said by way of a threat.

"That's fine. I'll be happy to go with them, though they have no grounds to arrest me. Standing in a barn aisle is not a crime that I'm aware of."

"Bud says you let them horses loose."

"I think you should ask Bud again what he saw."

He looked at Bud. "Was she letting them loose or not?"

Bud looked constipated, unable to tell the lie he wanted to tell either to cover his own ass or to grab a little glory with his boss. "She was right there."

"So were you," I pointed out. "How do we know you didn't open those doors?"

"That's ridiculous," Bullfrog said. "Why would he do something like that?"

"I could only speculate. Money. Maliciousness. Mental illness."

"Maybe those motives all apply to you."

"Not in this particular instance."

"You have horses here on the grounds, Miss-?"

"I'm through speaking with you now," I announced. "May I use your phone to call my attorney?"

He squinted at me. "No!"

I sat then in a straight chair beside the desk. Bullfrog's radio crackled. The gate guard announcing the arrival of the sheriff's deputies. A stroke of luck. I didn't want to meet Michael Berne in these circumstances. Bullfrog instructed the gate guard to send the radio car to the security office.

"Letting them horses loose is a serious crime," he said to me. "You could do time for that."

"No, I couldn't, because I didn't let the horses loose. The perpetrator might be charged with malicious mischief, which is a misdemeanor. There would be a fine and maybe community service. It's nothing compared to, say, illegally carrying a concealed weapon," I said, looking at the scowling Bud.

"I thought you said you were through talking," he said.

I smoothed my wet hair back with my hands and stood up as a car door slammed outside the trailer. The deputy came in looking like he'd been awakened from a sound sleep to answer the call.

"What's up, Marsh? Somebody let some nags loose? This her?"

"She was in the vicinity," Bullfrog said. "She may have information about the crime."

The deputy looked at me, unimpressed. "Do you, ma'am?"

"I'll speak directly to Detective Landry," I said.

"What's your name, ma'am?"

I moved past him, going to the door, checking out his name tag as I passed. "We'll talk in the car, Deputy Saunders. Let's get going."

He looked at Bullfrog, who shook his head and said, "Good luck with that, son. She's a pistol."

You got me out of bed for this?" Landry looked from Deputy Saunders to me with the kind of disgust usually reserved for spoiled food.

"She won't talk to anyone else," Saunders said.

We walked down the hall toward the squad room, Landry muttering, "Aren't I the lucky one. I don't see what any of us are doing here. You could have handled this in the field in half an hour. Jesus."

"I was assaulted," I said. "I think that warrants a detective."

"Then you take whoever is up. You know that."

"But I've already established a relationship with you regarding this case."

"No, you haven't, because there isn't any case. What you talked to me about yesterday isn't a case."

We went into the division offices through reception. Landry handed his badge and his weapon to the security officer through the drawer beneath the bulletproof glass. Saunders followed suit. I pulled the Glock out of the back of my jeans, put it and my car keys in the tray. Landry stared at me.

I shrugged. "I've got a license."

He turned to Saunders. "You fucking idiot. She could have blown your empty head off in the car."

"Now, Detective," I cooed, slipping past him as the security officer buzzed the door open. "I'm not that kind of girl."

"Get out of here, Saunders," he snapped. "You're about as useful as a limp dick."

We left Saunders looking forlorn in the outer office. Landry stalked past me, the muscles in his jaw working. We went past his desk to an interview room. He pushed the door back.

"In here."

I went in and gingerly took a seat. The pain in my back wouldn't let me draw a full breath. I had begun to wonder if maybe I really should go to an ER.

Landry slammed the door. "What the hell were you thinking?"

"That's rather a broad question, so I'm just going to take my pick of moments," I said. "I went to the equestrian center to look for some hint of what might have happened to Erin Seabright."

"But you weren't in the barn where she worked, right? She worked for some guy named Jade. So how is it you were in this other barn?"

"Michael Berne is an enemy of Don Jade. This morning I witnessed Berne threaten Jade."

"Threaten him how?"

"In that if-I-find-out-you-killed-that-horse-I'll-ruin-you kind of way."

"So this Jade sneaks in and turns the guy's horses loose. Big deal."

"It's a big deal to the man whose livelihood depends on the soundness of those horses. It's a big deal to the trainer who has to explain to owners how a horse worth a quarter of a million or a half a million dollars came to break a leg running around loose in the dead of night."

Landry heaved a sigh and turned his head at an odd angle, as if to pop a vertebra in his neck. "And you'd drag me out of bed for this?"

"No. I did that just for fun."

"You're a pain in the ass, Estes. Not like you haven't been told that before."

"That and worse. It doesn't bother me. I don't have a very high opinion of myself either," I said. "I suppose you think I'm being flip, and that's all right. I don't care what you think of me. I want you to be aware there are bad things going on that all seem to center on Don Jade. Don Jade is the man Erin Seabright was working for. Erin Seabright is missing. Do you see the connection here?"

He shook his head. "So I'm told you're caught standing there in this other guy's barn. How do I know you didn't let these nags loose just to get attention? You want people looking at Jade, so you orchestrate this little opera-"

"Nice turn of phrase. And did I beat myself with a pitchfork handle too? I can assure you, I'm not that flexible."

"You're walking around. You don't look any worse for wear to me."

I slipped my jacket off and stood up. "All right. I don't usually do this on the first interrogation, but if you promise not to call me a slut…"

I turned my back to him and pulled my sweater up to my neck. "If those marks look anywhere near as bad as they feel-"

"Jesus."

He spoke the word softly, without anger, without energy, the wind knocked out of his sails. I knew it probably didn't have as much to do with the marks my assailant had left on me as it did with the patchwork of skin grafts I'd worn for the past two years.