“You got a horse too?” Luke asked. “He’s cool.”
“Is he really yours, Matt?” Kayla bounced over.
The Percheron didn’t even blink at her exuberance. Instead, he lowered his head so she could pet his nose, then he snorted and blew snotty hay all over Kayla’s clothes. As a farm kid, she barely blinked at the mess on her jacket. Kayla rested a small hand between his nostrils. Her mouth opened in a nearly reverent O. “He’s beau-ti-ful.” She drew out the word. “What’s his name?”
“I don’t know yet,” Matt said.
“He looks like Mulan’s horse, Khan, or Angus from Brave.” Kayla was an expert on Disney animals. “But he could be the Beast too.”
“Beast.” Luke laughed. “I like it.”
“He’s too big to name after a cartoon,” Matt protested.
“Wow.” Dana circled the horse, giving him a wide berth. “He’s huge.”
“He’s been pretty docile so far,” Matt said.
Dana inched closer and held out a tentative hand. As a born-and-bred city girl, she hadn’t had much exposure to horses until she’d moved to Bree’s farm. She would pat noses and hand out carrots, but Bree had not been able to tempt her friend to learn to ride yet.
The Percheron arched his neck, and Bree swore the horse batted his eyelashes at Dana.
“You are a charmer.” Dana stepped forward and stroked his neck.
Bree turned to Luke. “I have to go back to work after I get them settled. The vet is coming to stitch the Percheron’s leg in about an hour. Can you handle it?”
“Sure.” Luke had inherited his mother’s horsemanship. He took the lead rope from Matt. “I’d better hose off his leg for now.”
“Good thinking.” Bree led the Standardbred into the barn, settled him in his new stall, and gave him some hay.
A few minutes later, Luke brought the draft horse inside and put him away.
Kayla followed them in. “Should we call Uncle Adam and tell him? He’s going to be so excited.”
Bree tossed a flake of hay over the big horse’s stall door. She looked at the enthusiastic little girl. “I thought you wanted to surprise him?”
“I do. But I want to tell him right now too.” Kayla bounced on her toes.
Bree pulled out her phone and dialed her brother’s number on speaker. The call rang three times before Adam’s recorded voice asked her to leave a message. “Adam, it’s Bree. Call Luke when you get this message.” She pressed “End.” “There. You two can decide what to tell him when he calls back.” Because her brother could be forgetful and spacey when he was working, she also sent him a text with the same message.
“I can’t decide!” Kayla bounced again, her face scrunched in happy conflict.
Bree grinned. The decision would be a good distraction for Kayla, better than thinking about celebrating the upcoming holiday without her mom—or even worse, the anniversary of Erin’s death, which was also approaching fast.
“You can go, Aunt Bree.” Luke latched the door. “I’ve got this.”
“I know you do.” In the midst of a seemingly endless growth spurt, he was several inches taller than her. She rested her head on his shoulder. “I just wish I could hang out and share the moment with you guys.”
“What you do is important,” Luke said. “We’ll hang out later.”
“Thanks for helping.” Bree’s eyes misted. Damn. Why did that happen so often? And for no reason other than she was proud or happy.
“It’s what family does, right?”
“Right,” Bree agreed, even though she felt like she was still learning what families were supposed to do. Until then, she was totally winging it.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
On the way to Scarlet Falls, Matt watched the scenery flash past the passenger vehicle window. The literal enormity of what he’d done dawned on him. “I can’t believe I bought a horse.”
“Me either.” Bree grinned at him from behind the wheel. “And that’s a lot of horse.”
Matt suffered a quick jolt of unease, then shoved it back.
“Don’t look so worried.” Bree glanced at him. “His leg will probably heal just fine. But what’s the worst that can happen? He’s lame, and you are the proud owner of a two-thousand-pound dog? You love big dogs.”
“I do.” Matt laughed. “And you have a point.”
“You rescued him because he stole your heart. You didn’t buy him as a show-jumping prospect.”
“You’re right.” Matt shoved aside his buyer’s remorse. The horse wasn’t a new car he’d bought on impulse. He was a living, breathing creature who needed a safe place to land, which Matt would give him regardless of his potential as a riding horse.
The GPS announced their arrival, and Bree turned into Monica Linfield’s condo complex.
Matt surveyed the rows of luxury vehicles. The small town neighbored Grey’s Hollow. Though Scarlet Falls had its own police department, as part of Randolph County, it was also included in Bree’s jurisdiction.
Bree pointed to an SUV. “There’s her Audi Q5.”
“A white one,” Matt noted.
Empty parking spaces were marked with numbers that clearly corresponded with the actual units. Bree pulled her SUV into a row marked GUEST PARKING. They stepped out of the vehicle and walked past the cluster mailbox. Units were arranged in a U-shape around a rectangle of well-manicured green space.
Matt knocked on Monica’s front door. Bree stood on the other side of the stoop, so they flanked the door. The previous day’s shooting was fresh on his mind.
The door opened, and a tall, slender brunette blinked at them. Monica Linfield’s driver’s license photo did not do her justice. Matt considered Bree to be the most beautiful woman in the world. But he couldn’t fail to recognize this model was gorgeous in an artsy way, with long, shiny hair and a lean, bony face highlighted with dramatic makeup. Black yoga pants and a slim white sweater draped her long-legged frame. She was stunning, but there was something about her that was also . . . too poised? No, too posed. Her stance seemed as unnatural as the deep red of her lips and the thick sweep of her fake eyelashes.
She scanned their uniforms, then her eyebrows dipped in a concerned V. “Can I help you?”
“I’m Sheriff Taggert.” Bree gestured toward Matt. “And this is Criminal Investigator Flynn.”
“Ma’am.” Matt nodded.
Bree turned back to the woman. “Are you Monica Linfield?”
Her eyes widened and her posture tensed in alarm. “Yes. What’s wrong?”
Police on the doorstep rarely meant good news.
Bree didn’t keep her waiting. “Do you know Spencer LaForge?”
She nodded, and her shoulders curled forward.
Bree continued. “We’d like to ask you a few questions about him.”
Her eyes brightened with moisture, as if she were going to cry. She blinked hard. She clearly wasn’t over Spencer. She hugged her own waist with both arms. “Why?”
Matt felt eyes on him and turned his head. A neighbor watched from the mailboxes. As he met her gaze, the older woman quickly averted her eyes, shoved her key into the slot, and retrieved her mail. Matt faced Monica again.