Stranded With The Detective

“I’ll take care of that.” Blake held out his hand. “Sir, if you’ll give me your driver’s license, I’ll run a few quick checks, make sure we’re all friends here.”

His smile was friendly, his words disarming, but there was a thread of steel beneath them that brooked no argument. Palmer handed over his license with obvious reluctance. Blake held it so that Dillon and Colby could read it before he pocketed it.

“I’m not some criminal with an outstanding warrant or something,” Palmer complained.

“Excellent. That’ll make my job much easier.” Blake held his hand out toward Piper. “Ma’am? ID?”

She blew out an impatient breath but did as he asked, pulling her driver’s license from the back pocket of her jeans.

Colby read the full name on the card as she handed it to Blake. “Piper Caraway. You and Mr. Palmer are both from Kentucky?”

Blake headed up the aisle with their IDs.

“I don’t know where he’s from,” Piper answered, aiming a glare at Palmer. “But I’m from Lexington, or right outside it anyway, Meadow County. Look, all you need to know is that he stole my horse and I’m here to take it back. If anyone needs to be arrested here, it’s him.”

Palmer drew himself up as if trying to look more imposing. But the effect was ruined by the smattering of straw stuck to the side of his head. From the smell coming off him, Colby had a feeling there was a fair share of horse manure in that straw. He wrinkled his nose and took a quick step back. Dillon wasn’t as subtle. He waved his hand in front of his nose and gave Palmer a disgusted look.

“He stole your horse?” Colby asked Piper. “The one you called Gladiator?”

“He sure did. It took me weeks to figure out where he’d taken him. I chased them halfway across the South.”

“I did not steal that horse.” He reached inside his coat pocket.

Suddenly two pistols were pointing at him, Dillon’s and Colby’s.

Palmers eyes widened and beads of sweat popped out on his forehead. “I just wanted to show you the bill of sale.”

“Hold still.” Dillon holstered his gun and patted Palmer down while Colby aimed his pistol at the ground.

“He’s clear,” Dillon announced. He pulled a sheaf of papers out of the man’s inside jacket pocket as Colby holstered his gun again. “Is this what you wanted to show us?”

“Yes.” Palmer waved toward Piper. “It’s my employer’s bill of sale, Wayne Wilkerson. He owns the place next to the Caraway ranch and had me bring over the bill of sale to pick up Gladiator on his behalf. Aren’t you going to search her, too?”

“Colby will take care of that.” Dillon studied the papers.

“While you’re at it,” Palmer snarled, “you can charge her with vandalism or something. My truck alarm went off in the parking lot and I found it with the hood up. I didn’t see any damage or anything missing, so I tried to start the engine to make sure everything was okay. It wouldn’t start. Took me thirty minutes to figure out that someone had shoved a rubber washer onto the battery post to block the electric current. It doesn’t take a brainiac to figure out who’s responsible.”

“Thank goodness, since that would completely disqualify you,” Piper snapped.

Colby hid his smile by rubbing the light line of stubble that ran up the sides of his face to his hairline.

Palmer’s face reddened and he took a threatening step toward Piper.

The woman had the audacity to take an answering step toward him.

Colby swore and jerked her back to a safe distance while Dillon stepped between them.

“Cool it, or I’ll slap you in cuffs,” Dillon ordered, addressing Palmer. “And it’ll be that much longer before we straighten out this mess.”

Palmer glared at Piper, his earlier fear of the knife apparently forgotten. But he didn’t try to approach her again.

Dillon arched a brow at Colby, an unsubtle reminder to do his job.

Feeling his face flush with heat for letting his professionalism slip yet again around the intriguing woman, he told her, “Ma’am, I need to check you for weapons. Tempers are obviously running high around here and we don’t want any firearms getting in the mix.”

“I’m not armed,” she said but suffered through the frisk without complaint.

Everything about her posture and expression screamed that she was the wronged party, making Colby feel like a jerk for touching her. If Palmer—or his alleged employer, Wilkerson—had stolen her horse, then she was the innocent here. He quickly finished his search and stepped back.

“Looks legit,” Dillon announced. “The papers are notarized and look like the bills of sale I’ve got at home. On the surface, I’d say that he’s telling the truth. Wilkerson owns the stallion, and that last paper clearly states that Palmer is his representative to take care of the horse.”

“Since I would never, ever sell Gladiator, those papers are obviously fake.” Piper reached into her jacket and pulled out a cell phone. “I might not have the pedigree papers with me, but I’ve got proof that he’s been my horse his entire life.”

She unlocked her phone and pressed the screen, then held it so that Colby and Dillon could see it. She swiped her fingers across the face, showing an impressive collection of pictures of a young colt transforming into a mature stallion. The same stallion standing in the next stall.

“Those pictures appear to show that you’ve owned the horse in the past,” Colby said. “But that doesn’t prove that you didn’t sell him and have seller’s remorse.” He took the papers from Dillon and scanned them. “The stallion was sold four weeks ago?”

“Impossible,” she said. “I was out of state when Palmer tricked my ranch manager into believing I’d authorized the sale and that he was taking him somewhere on behalf of Mr. Wilkerson. Old man Wilkerson doesn’t even breed horses anymore, so that was obviously a lie. But he wasn’t home when one of the ranch hands went over there to verify Palmer’s claim. So Billy felt he had no choice but to let Gladiator go. When I found out what had happened, I filed a complaint with the police. But they haven’t been able to reach Mr. Wilkerson to straighten things out. They said until they talk to him, there’s nothing they can do. I had to track down Gladiator myself. Now that I’ve found him, I’m not leaving here without him.”

“Billy?” Colby asked.

“Billy Abbott. My ranch manager.”

“Got it. Where did the alleged sale take place?” Colby handed the papers back to Dillon, who pocketed them.

“At my ranch,” Piper said.

“Horse or cattle?”

“Horse. I run a breeding program.”

“Thoroughbreds? Racehorses?”

“Some, yes. I also raise exotics—rare or unusual breeds in this part of the world, including draft horses. They’re my bread and butter, steady income while we try to produce the next Kentucky Derby champion. But that’s like winning the lottery. The last Derby winner our ranch produced was back when my dad ran the place, when I was just a baby.” She frowned. “I don’t see how any of that matters, though.”

“Just getting some background information. You mentioned this Wilkerson guy like you’re pretty familiar with him. Is he a friend?”

“I wouldn’t call him a friend, no. We wave when we see each other across the fence or on the road. But we don’t typically socialize.”

“He’s your neighbor?”

“Yes. His property abuts mine.”

“But he can’t be located. He’s missing?”

She shook her head. “No, that’s one thing that I can’t blame on Palmer. Wilkerson hasn’t been kidnapped.”

Palmer crossed his arms, glaring at her.

She ignored him. “I spoke to the service that mows his grass and looks after his property when he’s gone. They said he’s on vacation and won’t be back for weeks. But they didn’t have an address or even a phone number. According to the police, Wilkerson has checked in a few times, so they’re not worried about foul play. But he hasn’t checked in since Gladiator was stolen, so I haven’t had a chance to talk to him.”

She waved a hand toward Palmer. “I’ve never even met this guy before and he shows up when both Wilkerson and I are gone and waves his fake papers around. If that isn’t suspicious, I don’t know what is. He probably saw Gladiator out in the field, decided he wanted to steal him and randomly chose Wilkerson as a front for his schemes. I bet he’s never even met Mr. Wilkerson.”

“Wilkerson, my employer, paid good money for him. Just because you changed your mind doesn’t mean I have to give you back the horse.”

The tent flap opened again and Blake strode down the aisle. “Sorry for interrupting. Thank you, Mr. Palmer, Miss Caraway. Your records came back clean.” He smiled and handed them back their IDs. “There’s a crowd gathering outside, wanting in the tent to prep the horses for the parade,” he told Dillon. “I’ll hold them back, but the natives are definitely getting restless.”

“Understood. Thanks, Blake.”

Blake hurried out of the tent and Dillon walked toward the next stall. “How much did Wilkerson allegedly pay for the stallion?” When he reached the stall door and got his first unblocked view of the horse, he let out a low, appreciative whistle. “Friesian?”

“Yes,” Palmer and Piper both said.

“He’s thicker and taller than other Friesians I’ve seen.”

After giving Palmer a warning glance, Piper responded alone this time, “That’s part of why he’s so special. Most Friesians are closer to fifteen or sixteen hands tall. Gladiator is seventeen hands and built like a Clydesdale.”

“Gorgeous.” Dillon’s voice sounded wistful, as if he wished he owned the stallion.

“He’s a perfect specimen,” she said, “heavily sought after as a breeder. Which is why I’d never agree to sell. His stud fees pay a large chunk of the expenses on the ranch.”

The pride in her voice and the joy on her face as she talked about the horse were enough to convince Colby that all was not as it seemed. The real question was whether Palmer or his boss, Wilkerson, was the bad guy. Then again, maybe both of them were in cahoots.

“You never answered Dillon’s question, Mr. Palmer. How much did your employer supposedly pay for Gladiator?”

“Thirty thousand.”

Colby stared at him, stunned.

Piper snorted again. “That’s not even half of what he’s worth. And the money hasn’t been wired to my bank account. I haven’t received a single dime. That alone proves he’s lying.”

Palmer shrugged. “That’s between you and Wilkerson. Maybe there was a mix-up in the wire transfer. The account numbers could have been transposed or something. All I know is that he told me it was taken care of and gave me the papers that you signed. I’m sure he’ll straighten out the financing hiccups.”

“I didn’t sign anything.” Her hands flexed at her sides as if she wanted to strangle him. “You’re a horse thief, plain and simple. You should be shot.”

“I think you mean hung,” Colby said. “I’m pretty sure that’s the time-honored punishment for horse thieves.”

She appeared to consider his outrageous statement, then nodded sagely. “Works for me. If Destiny doesn’t already have a hanging scaffold, I’ll be happy to help them build one. I’ll even volunteer to pull the trip lever.”

Colby grinned, then sobered when he caught Dillon frowning at him.

“Mr. Palmer,” Colby said. “Let’s assume for a moment that there really is a mix-up at the bank and it will be straightened out. Thirty thousand dollars is a heck of a lot of money to pay for a horse. It’s hard to believe that Wilkerson would send such a valuable animal off to a county fair. Why would he do that?”

Palmer’s gaze slid away from Colby. “Wilkerson wants to drum up interest in the horse community so he can command a higher stud fee. He told me to tour the stallion at equestrian events for a few months.”

“Lexington is about three hours away. Why bring the stallion that far? Even if everyone in Blount County attends the fair, that’s only a few thousand people. A lot of them have horses for pleasure, but I doubt anyone around here is in the market for an expensive exotic like Gladiator. So why bring a prize Friesian to Destiny?”

“Good question,” Piper chimed in before Palmer could respond. “Gladiator’s too big and heavy to win a race. But he’s gorgeous enough to win just about any horse show. What’s the purse for something like that? Four? Five hundred bucks? Palmer makes the circuit through Tennessee while Wilkerson is out of state, none the wiser. He pockets thousands of dollars that his employer knows nothing about. Assuming Wilkerson really is his employer. Sounds like a lucrative scam to me.”

Hatred seemed to seethe from every pore as Palmer stared at her. The man who’d screamed in fear of a pocketknife was long gone. Had it all been an act to make her underestimate him until he could get the knife from her? Maybe he’d heard other people outside the tent and thought his shouts would draw them in as potential witnesses to say that Piper was stealing his horse? One thing was certain. Piper had bought his helpless act and didn’t appear to see him as a physical threat, in spite of his size. But Colby had dealt with men like him before. And he suspected that Palmer could be an exceedingly dangerous enemy.

“I’m not breaking any laws.” Palmer’s voice was low and threatening. “I’m doing exactly what Wilkerson asked—getting the word out about his stallion, hyping up interest.”

“This is ridiculous. You’re such a liar.” Piper flicked her hand as if Palmer was a fly buzzing around her head.

Colby shot a worried glance at Dillon. Dillon’s furrowed brow told Colby that he was just as alarmed. He subtly nodded and widened his stance like a boxer preparing to face an opponent in the ring.

Piper waved her hands again, oblivious to the tension building around her. “This lowlife is not taking my horse. I won’t allow it. If you, gentlemen, will excuse me, I need to get Gladiator home.”

Normally, Colby wouldn’t have allowed a suspect, or a witness—whichever category Piper fell into—to shove past him. But he was only too happy to get her out of harm’s way and leave Dillon with the task of calming Palmer down. So he moved aside and followed her into the aisle. But that was as far as he was letting her go. He stepped in front of the door to Gladiator’s stall so she couldn’t open it.

She frowned up at him. “Will you move out of my way?” She bared her teeth in what was presumably supposed to be a smile but looked more like a grimace. “Please?”

“Dillon,” he said, without moving out of her way. “Do you have room for one more while we straighten this out? Might take a few days, especially since it’s a weekend and no judge would tolerate us interrupting his fishing time. I hear the largemouths are really biting right now.”

“A few days?” Piper squeaked. “I’m not going to stay with someone I don’t know, cop or not. And certainly not all weekend. I need to get Gladiator home. Now.”

“We’ll make room,” Dillon said, keeping his focus on Palmer. Equal in height and brawn, Dillon could probably hold his own against the other man if it came to it. But Palmer was a good twenty or thirty pounds heavier, beefier in the chest and gut. It wouldn’t be a quick fight, or an easy one.

“I already said I’m not staying with you.” Piper didn’t sound as flippant or confident as she had earlier. Her gaze flicked from Dillon to Palmer, as if she was just beginning to sense the tension around her and how dangerous the situation had become.

“He’s not talking about you staying with him,” Colby said. “He’s talking about the horse.”

Chapter Three

“What?” Piper stared up at Colby, wide-eyed, the freckles standing out in stark contrast to her suddenly pale face. “What exactly are you saying?”

“Dillon has a horse rescue farm, Harmony’s Haven. He can foster Gladiator there until we straighten out who legally owns him.”

Dillon was speaking in low tones to Palmer, apparently trying to calm him down. Colby couldn’t quite make out the words. When Palmer nodded, Dillon moved back a few feet and pulled out his phone to make a call. Colby could hear him telling his ranch manager, Griffin, to double up some of the smaller horses in the stable and combine two stalls into one that was large enough to safely contain a draft horse.

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.”