Leg Up Read online

  “Miss Davis,” Captain America called out. Even his voice was deep and smooth. Mayday, mayday.

  “Ms.” I corrected him.

  “Excuse my mistake. Ms. Davis. My name is Brecken Wilson. John and I would like to have another word with you.” Dagnabit.

  “You’re a cop.”

  “Is that a problem?”

  Yes. “No.”

  “Do you have time to speak?”

  I urged the horse toward them as I came up with a response. “I need to put this horse away.”

  “Can Missy handle it for you?” John interrupted.

  “Gone.” Oh my god. I was having trouble speaking in front of Captain America… no, Cap. I should be calling him Cap. Stupid, stupid nerves. Maybe I shouldn’t have ignored men since my divorce. And, if I was going to be completely honest, during most of my marriage. I didn’t even remember some of the hormones pulsing through my body right now.

  “Well, then. Can we talk with you while you put the horse away?”

  That sounded like a great idea. Twice could give me something to concentrate on other than Captain over there. I swung my leg over and let myself drop to the ground, bending my knees to take the impact of landing without a wince. Getting old sucked.

  “Sure.” I led Twice past them, and Captain kept pace with me as we walked the short distance to the cross ties.

  “Can you confirm your name for me?”

  Really? John had known me for two years. If I had kept the wrong name up this long, did they really think I would mess it up now?

  “Larklyn Davis.”

  “And that is your married name?”

  “Yes. Same name as the kid.” Oh my god. What had I said? ‘The kid’? I felt like I was in some old black and white western movie with John Wayne. ‘The Kid.’ Jesus. I had seen handsome men before. My ex was a handsome man. I looked again at him.

  Not that handsome.

  This would be a long, unimpressive conversation.

  “‘The kid’?”

  “My daughter, Hailey. I kept our names the same after the divorce.” Two full sentences. Boo-ya.

  “You are divorced?”

  “Yes.” It was wrong that part of me was hoping that question was just from him and not a normal procedural question. Very wrong.

  “And what was your relationship with the victim?”

  “Leg finder?” I contemplated him skeptically, my forehead scrunched up as I tried to make his question less stupid in my brain.

  “No one told you the identity?”

  Not officially, no. But I was not about to admit I had a good idea who it was in front of the cops.

  I evaded the question. “Well, I haven't looked at my phone since lunch, so I’m behind on the town gossip.”

  “No one should know yet.”

  “Then how would…” I stopped, pursed my lips as I counted to ten, then tried again. “Would you like to tell me who the victim is, or is this a guessing game?” Okay, that was not nice. I guess jaded me got mean when flustered. Or maybe I just got mean when cops tried to trap me in word games.

  “Bryan Wilson.”

  “From Tops?” Ha! We got it right! Oh, wait. Poor Bryan.

  “From the coffee house,” he confirmed. “What was your relationship?”

  “Coffee.” He looked at me like I was crazy. Which I was. Obviously.

  “You only knew him through the coffee shop?” he clarified.

  “Yep.”

  “I have information that says he asked you out a few times.”

  “Said no.”

  “Why? He was an attractive guy.” Captain studied me, looking for some reaction or piece of information that would help him solve the case. He came up empty. Like Bryan.

  “Don’t need an attractive guy.”

  “What do you need?”

  “To get this horse untacked. Do you mind?” I had pulled the saddle off, but I couldn’t put it in the tack room without him moving. He stared a second before he understood my request, probably because I wasn’t explaining everything, or anything really. After he moved, I slipped the saddle on its rack before I came back out and unwrapped her polo wraps. I was old school. Liked the support of a polo wrap over the new boots they had now.

  He walked too close to Twice, and I thought about warning him, but my unwanted attraction had made me uncomfortable and it translated into keeping my mouth shut. Recently my mouth had been getting me into too much trouble anyway.

  Usually Twice wasn’t nice to anyone but Hailey. On most days, I had a pass because I was the one who brought her treats, but that only granted me a grace period and the benefit of the doubt. Today had been a good day, so anything could happen. I learned early in my career to never try to guess what is going on in a chestnut mare’s mind.

  “Who is the beauty?” he asked.

  “Twice.”

  “Twice? The horse’s name is Twice?”

  “Nickname.” God, I sounded like an idiot.

  “What’s her real name?”

  Why was he stuck on this? Did he have radar for embarrassing information?

  “She’s my daughter’s horse.” He waited for me to continue, and when I didn’t, he reached out to stroke her nose. I held my breath hoping she wouldn’t bite. I stopped unwrapping the polo wrap for a second, only to increase my speed, trying to get it off before I needed to intercede.

  “She seems to be a big horse for your seven-year-old.”

  “How do you know my daughter is seven?” Okay, now that he reminded me of the interview games, I was almost hoping for him to get bit, but my daughter's contrary animal seemed to be delighted by the detective’s attention. Slut.

  “It was in your file.” The mare closed her eyes and leaned into his hand. He must have superb hands. I wondered how they would feel—nope. I was not going to think those thoughts.

  “I’m training her, but she’s in Hailey’s name.”

  “That seems... different.”

  “The mare hates everyone. Only likes Hailey,” I said with a shrug.

  “Even you?”

  “Yep.”

  “And what is the name of such a hateful beast?” Seriously? I couldn’t believe he was going to make me say it.

  “L.D. Twilight Sparkle.” I winced. This mare was the animal least like the fictional character I could think of but rationalizing with a three-year-old was pointless. We hoped she would forget, but no luck there. Hailey couldn’t remember my ex-mother-in-law at the time but remembered what she had named the horse. My luck. His smile told me he recognized the name. And the irony. Huh. I wondered how a hardened detective knew My Little Pony characters.

  “L.D.?” he asked, and I let out a long sigh before answering.

  “Lark Davis. It should have been D.F. for Davis Farms, but she bit my ex and then tried to run him over, so he decided she wanted to be just a dressage horse.”

  “Is that how you usually decide things?”

  “Nope,” I answered, and he nodded like that made sense, which it didn’t.

  “Is she any good?”

  “Sure.” She was good at standing still while my daughter braided and brushed her. Dressage? The jury was still out. But the joke was on my husband. She could jump the moon. I had to get six-foot fences around my jump arena because she kept jumping out of the five-foot ones. I was holding onto that fact for the next time my ex pissed me off. Here’s your next big mount. Oops. You gave her away. Too bad.

  Then again, if she threw me one more time, I’d load her in the trailer and drive her back to him myself. I’d had it all planned out from the last time she put me in the dirt. I’d pull up and call him so he would get there right as I turned her out. Then I’d watch his face as she jumped out, and he’d realize how talented she was. Then I’d laugh and laugh as I watched him try to catch her again while I drank wine. Or champagne. Maybe both? Heck, it was my dream. Let’s go with both.

  Just then, John moved in closer to Twice, lured by her easy acceptance of the new visito
r. She sensed his movement and her ears, which had been so relaxed they had flopped sideways like a donkey, flattened against her head, and the eye away from Captain opened to pin John with a deadly stare. I jumped in between them to give her my own stare, and motioned for John to move away from her, but she seemed unimpressed. So much for my delusion that I was the dominant one in this relationship. Seeing that John was now out of range, she returned to enjoying Captain’s attention.

  “Did you ever have any problems with the victim?”

  Okay then, I guess we were done with the ‘getting to know you’ portion of this interview.

  As I finished gathering the polo wrap I was working on and flipped it over to re-wrap it so it would be ready for the next time, I thought about how I wanted to respond.

  “No. But you knew this because the whole town would know if I had a problem with the victim.” I contemplated his sharp suit and shiny shoes that were now covered in a layer of dust. “Have you ever worked in a small town before? I’m guessing you’re from the Bay Area.”

  “Where I’m from isn’t important,” he snapped at me.

  John snorted, but covered up his smile when we both looked at him.

  “Yeah. It is. You see, those TV shows and movies that show the quaint little town, where everyone knows everything and such? The ones people complain aren’t real? They’re lying to themselves, because they are real and you’re in one. You want to know anything about me? Ask Lindsey. She runs the town blog. She knows it all and probably some things even I don’t.”

  “How would she know something about you that you don’t?” His face showed an emotion for the first time, turning from blank to curious as his eyebrows furrowed at this thought. John snickered at this point and even I cracked a smile.

  “Facts are not always Lindsey’s forte,” I replied.

  “Why would I want to know anything that isn’t fact?” the handsome cop asked me. I realized I had really puzzled him at this point.

  “Because that’s the fun. Trying to use all those detective skills to find the truth in the lies. Isn’t that what you do?”

  “One of the things,” he admitted, but his face had closed off again. Except for his eyes, which were contemplating me. He looked like he didn’t know what to think of me.

  “Then go find Lindsey and bother her. I need to get home.” As I finished unwrapping the polo wraps and then re-wrapping them, I brushed past him again to put them away. Mistake. Tingles shot up my arm from the contact and I ended up wishing I had taken more care as my heart, that rebellious organ I hadn’t heard from in a while, jumped.

  Nope. That was not going to happen. Get your emotions together, heart.

  “I am afraid that the department insists that we get personal information directly from the source. Hearsay issues and all that.”

  Cap had some snark in him.

  “Too bad. My life is more interesting when Lindsey is telling it.”

  “I’m sure.”

  “What department are you with, exactly?”

  “Sheriff’s.” That stopped me.

  “Why is the Sheriff's Department here?”

  “You had a murder and Detective Hernandez asked for help.” His reply made me snort in disbelief.

  “Detective Hernandez retired here after 20 years on the streets of Los Angeles as a homicide detective. Try again,” I quipped.

  “This really is a small town.” Again, his mask dropped as he looked at both of us with surprise on his face.

  “Yep. You can’t sneeze without the whole town bringing you hot tea,” John added.

  “John, that reminds me. How’s your wife’s cold? I heard she was feeling under the weather yesterday,” I asked as I came all the way out of the tack room.

  “She’s doing good. Just the sniffles. Used it as an excuse to stay home and knit. Your Gran brought over some of her special blend tea. Had her feeling better in no time.” He nodded like I had anything to do with it. I snorted at him. Gran was a force of her own. Gramps used to have some influence, but since he died, no one could suggest anything to her. Gran owned the Tea House in town, specializing in loose leaf teas from around the world and high tea in the afternoon, complete with finger sandwiches and doilies. She blamed my coffee addiction on my father and his ‘highfalutin city ways’ having corrupted me when I was too young to know any better. I thought her tea obsession was nuts. We’d come to an agreement to ignore the insanity of the other’s choices.

  “This is nice and everything, but can we get back to the leg?” Captain asked, sending us both a glare. He brought his left hand up to flip a page in his book, and my relationship-starved heart fluttered when it noticed there was no ring.

  I didn’t care. Nope. It was just my stupid heart. I already knew it had bad taste, and we weren’t paying attention to it.

  “Sure. There was a leg. It was on the porch when I walked out. I called 911 in what could be one of my most embarrassing moments ever and then bribed the Chief to come wait for the coroner with me by offering up coffee and my morning pastry.” I put my hands on my hips as I addressed him. “Anything else, Captain?”

  “I’m a detective.”

  “I’m sorry?”

  “I’m a detective. Not a captain.”

  Right… I was not explaining that one.

  “I will remember that. Anything else?”

  “Yes. The notes say you contacted your clients before calling 911. Can you explain that?”

  Son of a biscuit. I really should’ve had more than one cup of coffee before walking out and finding that leg. Maybe then I would have remembered to call 911 first and not have to explain how my mind works in an emergency to everyone after. The rule was work first, panic second. Usually it was a useful trait.

  “I contacted my clients to rearrange my day.”

  “Excuse me?”

  Yep. He had serious doubts about my sanity. I remembered that look on my father’s face when I told him I wanted to skip college and become a horse trainer.

  “I contacted my clients. It was the first thing I thought of. That I would be late and needed to take care of the people counting on me.”

  “Do you normally act like that when you find a body part?”

  Now it was my turn to stare at him like he was stupid. “Well, as this was my first time, I don’t really know what my ‘normal’ is.”

  He looked flustered at that.

  “Did you tell anyone why you were running late?”

  “Maybe Missy?” I thought about it. “No one over the text messages, and she was the only one who called to find out why.”

  “Who is Missy?”

  “My working-student-slash-assistant-trainer. She’s working on getting her medals.”

  “Medals?” As he started to ask, I cringed.

  “Do you know anything about dressage?”

  “You prance around on horses and have too much money.”

  I sighed hard. “Then it doesn’t matter.” I waived away my comment.

  “So what medal is she getting?”

  “Nope, forget that. It would take too long.”

  “Because I think dressage is pretty horse dancing?”

  Sigh. Basketball players never had to deal with this. “Yes.”

  “Okay. I can respect that.” Huh. This conversation never ended this well.

  “Really?”

  “Ever heard of Lacrosse?” he asked.

  “Maybe? It’s a sport—I think.” I remembered something about hot guys and short pants. But that might have been football.

  “It’s big on the East Coast.”

  “You sure?” Because that didn’t sound right. I mean, dressage is big on the East coast, too, but we had still heard of it over here. Then again, he had a point.

  “Yep. Huge.”

  Maybe he did understand. “Interesting. I’ll have to look it up.” Those of us with rare sports needed to stick together.

  He shook his head at this and turned to John. “Have you heard of it?”
>
  “Nope. It wasn’t a school sport, or a professional one,” John replied with a half shrug.

  “It’s both now!” He threw his hands up and addressed both of us. “San Fran even had a professional lacrosse team.”

  “Had? What happened?” I asked with a smirk.

  “Didn’t work out.”

  “Yep. It’s huge. Sorry we questioned you,” I snickered at him. He lifted an eyebrow at me. “Is it in the Olympics?” I pressed further.

  He glared. I deserved that.

  “I think we’re done here.” Captain gave us one more glare for good measure, and then left. I really need to remember his name.

  “I don’t think he likes me,” I commented as John and I watched him leave.

  “You were taunting him. After he was so nice and everything.”

  “It was the ‘too much money’ comment.” I scrunched up my face. “I couldn’t let it go. You know, dressage is the only horse competition that doesn’t have cash prizes. It sucks.”

  “I’m walking away before this becomes a soap box conversation.”

  “That’s probably a good idea,” I said as I unhooked Twice from the cross ties and walked her to the wash rack. “Hey, John? Can I have my house back tonight?”

  “Already released it. Gladys should have left you a message on your phone.” He smiled and waved as he left the barn.

  I followed him out, stopping at the wash racks as I watched them both get in the car. And I absolutely didn’t stare at Captain America’s butt as he got in. I definitely did not sneak an extended glance or notice the nice cut in his slacks.

  I waved to them as they drove off, but only John waved back. Captain America just glared. I guess he wouldn’t be asking me out anytime soon. Shucks.

  I went back to rinsing off my horse. Work paid the bills. Annoying handsome detectives didn’t.

  Chapter 5

  After I was done for the day, I texted Jen to let her know I had my house back.