Smoketree - By Jennifer Roberson Page 0,50
me he didn’t do it,” I said quietly.
“I’ve known mean horses in my time,” he said conversationally. “I’ve seen ’em kick and bite and strike out. I’ve had ’em try and take my leg off at the kneecap by ramming me into a tree or post. They can be devious and small-minded and downright nasty—but rarely are they killers.” He kept scratching. “Any horse is capable of killing, pressed to it. But it doesn’t make him a killer.”
I looked at the big horse, half-asleep at Harper’s hand. He seemed so gentle, so friendly, little more than a huge, powerful dog. But I knew he wasn’t. No horse was. They simply were not pets.
“Did you make your phone calls?” Harper asked.
I sighed and stared at the dirt. “Yes. Drew’s lawyer is handling the arrangements; there isn’t to be a service, because Drew never wanted one. So when the police are done, the body will be shipped back to New York for cremation.”
“Did you find out what brought him here?”
I nodded. “That was the call to Vanessa. It turns out Drew called her to find out where I was; I thought that might be the explanation. The agreement was she wouldn’t tell anyone, so I could have some time, but Drew told her it was urgent. He told her why, and she agreed. And so she told him I was here. ” Harper turned away from Preacher. “And what was the explanation?”
I looked away from him, staring beyond the pens. “Drew came to see me because Jazzmine has cancelled my contract. They have that right, you see… would you use a damaged vehicle for a car commercial?” I tried to smile but it came out twisted. “He didn’t want to tell me over the phone. Drew was like that. A good, kind man. Tough as well, but decent. He built my career, you see, and he wanted to be with me when it fell apart. ”
"I don’t mean to belittle what you’ve told me,” he said quietly, “but aren’t there other cosmetics companies?”
“Of course,” I agreed, “but none of them want a blemished model, either.” I sighed and kicked at the dirt. “Remember how it was when the doctors said you couldn’t ride again? Well, this is sort of the same. Looks like I’m out of work.”
“Kelly.” He didn’t say anything more. I knew he understood. He just let me stand there, staring at nothing, until I could talk again.
“So,” I said on a gust of breath, “I’m going to stay here a little longer to sort out a few more details.”
He went very still. “What details are those?”
“My life.” I looked at him. “There’s a chance further surgery might get rid of this scar, at least enough to make me photogenic again. But there are no guarantees, you see.” I brushed my fingertips across the keloid scar on my forehead. “I may be stuck with this, which means the career is gone. But I still need time to heal from the last operation, and I might as well do it here.”
His face was very blank. “I thought you’d go back to New York.”
“Me, too.” I looked at Preacher. “But I think I’ll stay awhile.”
“I wasn’t going to ask you to,” he said very quietly. “But it doesn’t mean I didn’t want to.”
I smiled. “I know that. There’s an awful lot to overcome with us.”
“Maybe.” He sighed. “Hell, it’s been long enough since Abby.”
“And long enough since Tucker?” I shook my head. “I don’t know. I’m not making any predictions.”
Preacher pushed at Harper’s arm, begging for more attention. Automatically he began scratching the horse again, but his mind was elsewhere, I knew.
“What about Smoketree?” I asked. “What will you do about all the trouble? If it isn’t you doing it, who is?”
“Developers. But I can’t go to the police. I don’t have any hard evidence. Just a string of circumstantial stuff. The only thing to do is wait and see what happens.”
“What does Nathan think?”
“He’s not saying much. We haven’t really talked about it much; it’s sort of something we’re keeping quiet. Besides, it’s me the incidents are meant for.”
“What do you mean?”
He resettled his hat, still scratching Preacher’s jaw. “Before I bought into Smoketree, a man came and offered me money to pressure Nathan into selling. Gave me this song-and-dance routine about what they’d do to make the development a going concern. I don’t doubt it would be, but it’s not what Nathan wants. Or me. Anyhow, I told him I