“Charly, I haven’t seen you. There’s been no time.”
“Could have called on the cell.”
“Never. Do you have any idea how easy it is to pull a conversation out of the sky? I mean it. I never say anything on the cell I’m not willing for the whole damned world to hear, and you shouldn’t, either.”
“Now, Renata, don’t do the conspiracy-theory thing.”
“Charly, I know my business, and technology in the film business is very sophisticated and changes quickly. Didn’t used to, but there’s so much downtime on the set that I learned about cameras, editing equipment, iPods, downloading, and cell phones. I’ve soaked up everything I can about electronics and computers. Nothing that is electronic or in your computer is secure. Nothing.”
“Even the CIA and Pentagon stuff?” He felt an odd flutter at the thought.
“A genius hack could get into anything they have. We really have painted ourselves into a corner. You and I will be the last generation to know privacy.”
It frightened Charly that she had so much power: physical power, financial power, and mental power.
“I hope you’re wrong.” He meant that.
“I wish I were.” She dropped the subject, as it was deeply depressing the more she thought about it. “Thought I’d leave Kalarama at the end of the show. I’ll pay them extra for the time and trouble, all the media stuff, but I’ll tell the truth. I’m going back to you. I just won’t say why I left.”
“Joan isn’t going to take extra money.”
“Then I’ll give it to her favorite charity in Kalarama’s name. I’ve put them through a fair amount, and they have Jorge’s murder to deal with, as well.” She shuddered. “That sight will haunt me forever.”
“Ward didn’t kill him.”
“How can you be so sure?” She responded to the conviction in his voice.
“He’s not the type.”
“That’s what neighbors say about serial killers when they’re discovered.”
“Ward isn’t some psychopath who can fool the neighbors. He wouldn’t kill Jorge. If nothing else, the stakes aren’t high enough. He agrees to hide Queen Esther. He’s part of a harmless ruse. No one’s hurt. No one loses money, except ostensibly me. Yes, Joan and Larry juggle a media circus, but, hey, it throws a great big klieg light on Kalarama, and that’s good for them and good for Saddlebreds. They run a good barn. They’re at the top of the food chain. No, Ward couldn’t.”
“I suppose.” Her voice trailed off. “But it’s unsettling.”
“It’s some kind of personal vendetta. Doesn’t have anything to do with our world.” Charly believed this, especially after breakfast with the boys.
Four grackles landed on the luxurious grass, walking with their bird waddle. A large bird feeder lured them, but they had landed a few feet away just in case anything juicy appeared in the emerald grass.
After a long silence, Renata asked, “How much?”
“For what?”
“Captain Hook and the yearling filly. Really how much. Your bottom line.”
He turned to her, put his coffee cup on the rattan coffee table. “Free. If you marry me, they will be your wedding present.”
“Charly, don’t tease me.” She rolled her eyes upward.
He rose from the chair, then knelt before her. “Marry me. Do me the honor of being my wife. I am dead serious.”
T hankful for a quiet morning, Fair was reading Equine Disease Quarterly, published by the Department of Veterinary Science at the University of Kentucky. The research carried out at the Maxwell H. Gluck Equine Research Center at the university benefited horsemen the world over. Since he specialized in equine reproduction, his office filled up with reports, technical papers, as well as more general publications aimed at horsemen. However, he particularly enjoyed Equine Disease Quarterly for its concise reportage of projects.
At just the time that Charly went down on bended knee, Fair removed his reading glasses, his first concession at forty-one to encroaching middle age. The concession irritated him.
Harry returned from the ladies’ room. “Ready.”
“I am, too.”
They’d driven into Lexington for breakfast at the country club, which had been arranged by Alicia Palmer. She knew everybody and everybody knew her, thanks to her Olympian career in film. When she’d called the night before, they caught up about everything on the farm—hers and theirs, since BoomBoom, Susan Tucker, and Alicia were taking turns managing it until their return.
Once in the truck, the animals happy to see them, Fair drove out toward Iron Works Pike.
Since many of the three hundred plus Thoroughbred farms fell into a half circle from the little town of Paris in Bourbon County to the town of Versailles in Woodford County, they thought they’d start out by going to Paris, northeast of Lexington, and work their way back toward Versailles, which was due west.
Harry marked the farms she wanted to see, starting with Claiborne. Not that she knew anyone there, but she wanted to peek at the back pastures.
Each farm displayed a distinct personality. Some, such as Calumet Farms, were covered in glory for decades, only to fall from grace. Others, like Dixiana, once a great Saddlebred place and now breeding Thoroughbreds, covered a century of ups and downs, after each down rising again like the phoenix.
“I’m so happy the grapes are flourishing. Alicia said I won’t believe how big they’ve grown when we get home.”
“It will be interesting to see if the crop proves profitable.”
“Not for three years,” she quickly replied.
“I know that, honey. Remember, I heard the lead-up to this, then the purchase of rootstock, and, well, I’m probably as excited as you are.” He inhaled the refreshing morning fragrance of dew, grass, horses in rich limestone-enriched fields.
“You’re right. I get nervous about my grapes. I’m starting to wonder if I shouldn’t have put more in when I did, but I could only afford a quarter of an acre. An acre would have cost fourteen thousand dollars. Of course now, given the hideous spike in oil prices, the cost would be fifteen thousand dollars. Every item that is transported by truck just goes up in price. Scares me.”
“I told you to plant an entire acre. You’re too conservative,” declared Pewter, who really had tried to reach her human when Harry prepared the ground for her rootstock.
“She’s brave about some things and cowardly about others.” Mrs. Murphy also breathed in the wonderful summer odors. “She gets scared about money, and that’s not going to change.”
“But she has Fair, and he makes a good living.” Pewter was quite happy that she didn’t have to balance checkbooks.
“Years of living off a postmistress’s salary.” Tucker left it at that.
“Sunflowers look good, everything looks good. I’m so glad the girls are out there. Alicia said that Miranda has been the biggest help.” Harry beamed at mentioning the older woman, a surrogate mother. “But then, Miranda is such a natural with plants.”
Fair laughed. “She really is, and it plucks Big Mim’s last nerve. All the thousands of dollars she spends on her gardens and gardeners, yet Miranda’s outshines hers every year.”
Big Mim, also known as the Queen of Crozet, had grown up with Miranda. They adored each other, but when it came to their gardens, each burned with competitive fire.
They reached Paris, passing the large courthouse. One could gauge the wealth of a county by the size of its courthouse in Kentucky. In Virginia, the telling detail was the size of the monument to the heroic Confederate dead.
Claiborne, a few minutes away, made Harry’s heart skip a beat. Fair drove around the perimeter.
“Well?” Pewter, already bored with sightseeing, thought it was time for a crunchy treat, something with fish flavor today.