Previous chapters are available on the sidebar.Cailen parked across the street from Hannah’s house, and Brie, who'd been standing vigil on the front porch, jogged over to meet her. Foreign to form, Cailen threw her arms around Brie and immobilized her with a cloying embrace.
“Pretend to console me,” she whispered. The desperation that overrode her normal voice was dead genuine, but Brie still wrestled like a taunted tiger. “Damn it, Brie, I need you to listen to me. Stop squirming. Sassy Rainier has played her final card.” The ferocity drained from Brie's body long enough for Cailen to say, “The woman is truly insane and may have someone watching us, so hold on and pretend to comfort me.”
Brie cupped Cailen’s neck with one hand and ran the other palm up and down her back. “This feels weird, plus you've been sweating, plus Hannah can probably see us from inside the house. Okay, what has Farms done this time?”
After a condensed rendition of the afternoon's diversions, Cailen ended with, “Your whole body is tight with rage. Can you walk back to the house without showing that, if I let you go? And, remember, no telling Hannah until you can draw her out of the house.”
Wide-eyed, Brie asked, “Will it be safe to speak in the car?” While truly concerned for Penny, she could not entirely dampen an underlying tingle of intrigue. Besides, with the four of them against Sassy Rainier, surely no harm would come to Pennington’s Lass.
“I’d be afraid of the car. You are obviously where I'd run to, so we have to consider your house and vehicles as leaky as ours. For Penny's sake, we have to be overly paranoid.”
“I understand. You can let go now, just stand back and watch me become the most soothing, supportive friend the world has ever seen.”
“Don’t over do it, Brie. This is no joke.”
*****
From deep within the fruit and vegetable section of a nearby supermarket, under cover noise of mist jets hissing all around—that tingle of intrigue had blossomed to full vibration—Brie filled Hannah's hands, which were too expressive to be trusted to remain low key, with delicate cherry tomatoes as she began recounting Cailen's story. After Hannah had traveled the emotional route from swerving anger, steeply up to towering indignation, and on through to a macadamized, relentless determination to save Penny, Brie bagged up the tomatoes.
Hannah pretended to examine some peaches for firmness. “This is deadly serious, you know. Joan and Cailen must be half out of their minds.”
“I know that.” Brie frowned at the fuzzless peaches, but they were all the store was offering.
“Then why do I detect a definite whiff of titillation in and about your person?”
The last time Brie had tried to hide anything from Hannah was that final attempt to convince her it was unwise for their relationship to turn sexual. It hadn't worked then either.
Brie came close to flapping her arms to protest the hint of censure in Hannah's words, but recovered the proper attitude by re-routing them above her head and dabbing for an edge at a roll of filmy plastic bags. “There may be a microscopic amount of fascination, I admit that. But, Hannah, our house might be bugged? Our cars could be bugged? Somebody is probably tailing us right this very minute? What’s not to be fascinated about?”
Hannah thought, And you seriously try to trump me sometime with the four-years-older card. Unbelievable, Brisada. She said, “Joan and Cailen's dilemma, for one thing. And Penny's life.”
“Look, Sassy is stupid. We are smart. She can’t win this. Absolutely nothing bad is going to happen to that filly. The part that makes me want to strangle Farms is how torn up Cailen will be in the meantime, and Joan too.”
Hannah settled three peaches into the bag Brie had split free. They paid and made tracks for home, where Hannah placed her call to Joan with the pre-arranged offer to go over there. It was accepted and the note bearing Cailen's plan was passed on.
Actually, the scheme had been Brie's conception. While doing up their horses the following morning, Jimmy would overhear Brie and Hannah insisting that Joan go with them to Cinda's house for some margarita therapy. Nobody on the listening end could possibly know who Cinda was or where she lived, so Sassy's thugs would have to tail closely and they’d have no chance to place a bug at Cinda's house in time. Joan, Hannah, and Brie would each take a separate vehicle and run a personal errand first. Brie thought that a nice added touch for tying up enemy manpower. The spirit of the outing would be aimed, ostensibly, at commiserating with Joan over Cailen's mysterious behavior. They were assuming that the office, as well as perhaps some strategically chosen stalls, were being monitored, but it wouldn't hurt to make sure Jimmy also heard the plans.
Smuggling Cailen into the pow-wow was the hard part. To do it, Cailen had to actually spend the night at Cinda's, and they had to make certain anyone who might be watching believed she was still at Brie's. It was dark when Hannah got back with Joan's return note, which basically said the plan seemed sound. Hannah smuggled Cailen, by way of side entrances blocked from view by closely adjoining privacy fence gates, next door to the apartment of a close friend. Paul agreed to escort Cailen, who would be concealed like a needy girlfriend in the protective hollow of his thick arm and aided by a three-house distance from the nearest streetlight, from his front door to his car. And he would drop her off at Cinda's. Once there, Cailen was on her own, but Brie insisted Cinda wouldn't mind helping, what with technically owing Cailen a car and all.
*****
Rain, as forecast, did move into the Ohio River Valley late the next morning. A mile-high glob of gray muck had draped its blubbery self over Louisville, and showed no intention of crawling off by the time they were to leave for Cinda's. The entire party was free of afternoon chores, though, thanks to Car.
The night before, Cailen had found Cinda's cramped, noisy house strained to the dust-bunnied tip of every corner by those six lives elbowing for space within it. Cailen had made it there at seven o’clock, and although a couch in the living room had optimistically been designated as her place to sleep, the TV was, after all, in there too. So keeping the kids out was, in their mother's eyes, unfair and impractical. Even if Cinda had ordered the room off-limits to the kids, Cailen doubted they could have been made to stay out. The little things ripped and rolled and ran all over the place. Like sand duteously sifting itself into beachwear, they endlessly seeped from under chairs, oozed from behind the couch, and ricocheted through doorways.
Digna wasn't so bad, but she was the oldest, at seven, and did exhibit some semblance of a life beyond staring wide-eyed at the stranger and practicing self-hypnosis in front of the tube. She'd spent most of the evening serenely working on homework. In spite of a sinking preoccupation over Penny, Cailen found a slim measure of energy to wonder if she might be a little partial to Digna because of her namesake and the birth drama, but decided that no, the girl truly did seem to have more sense than the others, or maybe seven was a less annoying age, who knew?
The children had finally gone to bed around eleven, after being allowed to stay up to say goodnight to their daddy when he got home from his night job cashiering at a convenience store. But even after they went to bed, the TV had to be left blaring because the creepiest one, Blaine, who had stared at Cailen for two solid hours, all the while wetly sucking his thumb, would wake up and scream bloody murder if he couldn't hear the television in the background and see its glow in the hallway.
Things calmed down some in the morning. The kids’ daddy Harrison, after only five hours sleep, was up and gone to the track. A little later, Digna and the one just smaller than her went to school. That left the baby, who was imprisoned in her high chair, and the irrepressible Blaine, whose age gave him the benefit of a school-free schedule and unfettered access to Cailen. He brought his Pop-Tart and chocolate milk into the living room so he could feast his eyes upon her while he ate.
When Joan, Brie and Hannah crowded awkwardly into the tiny living room shortly before two that afternoon, their arrival felt like nothing short of rescue. So much so that Cailen almost didn't mind for once that Hannah had come along. Cinda kept calling Joan Ms. Caulder at first and the kids wouldn't let them be alone to talk. At least Brie was serving as a magnet, with Blaine and the baby clinging to her, which temporarily stanched the perpetual motion effect.
Cinda sternly ordered the children to vacate the living room. They paid no attention, so she glanced sideways at Joan with a contrite shrug as she suggested, "Why don't you all go to the kitchen? I can at least close you up in there for some privacy."
The kitchen, though wanting for space and crying for light, was an improvement, and the bump of the knobless door behind Cinda marked the first opportunity for everyone to speak freely since about the same time yesterday.
Joan took stock and, not pleased at finding a tight jaw and darkened eyes, she folded herself around Cailen. "You didn't sleep at all, did you?"
"That's not important. The main—"
Blaine tumbled through the door on a long, low giggle, proud of himself for breaching the barricade and looking for some fun. Hannah couldn't help smiling, Cailen was disgusted, and Joan regarded him like an organism she'd only go close to if there were a stick handy to poke at it with. His face reddened from strain, centrifuge and joy as Brie caught him up and whirled his stubby body in looping arcs through the air, expertly clearing his head of the closely arranged fixtures. When his laughter got so hard and went so deep it ceased to produce noise, Brie stopped the ride and let him off.
"Do it again, Aunt Brie!"
In a cold trembly voice, fingers flexing creepy-crawly fashion, she mewled, "I am not your Aunt Brie."
This cracked him up. "Who are you?"
Brie flapped his shirtfront up and blew raspberries all over his tender bulb of a stomach. "I'm the belly monster."
Tickled to immobilization, he begged her to stop. When she did, finally, she fixed his shirt and asked him to please go to the other room so they could talk.
"I want you to play with me, Aunt Brie."
She knew how to get rid him. Using that same ghosty voice, "I am not Aunt Brie, I am not the belly monster."
Thinking he'd won, he taunted, "Who are you? I'm not scared."
"The butt monster." And she reached, deliberately ineffectual, for his waistband.
Taking a firm hold on his pants in front of the three lady strangers, Blaine streaked for the door. Two seconds later, he put one hand back through, beckoning Brie with a crooking finger.
Brie was apologetic. "One minute, guys, I promise. After this, he'll behave, I swear." She was back in less than the minute.
Everybody was seated around the battered red plastic, chrome-legged kitchen table, so she sat too, ready for business. Joan gave her a vacant look. "Okay, before we get started, what did he want?"
"Blaine? He wanted to tell me that Cailen kept staring at him last night. He wants to marry you, Cailita."
"Look, Brie, I know you love these kids, but my ability to be amused by them evaporated fourteen or fifteen hours ago."
Hannah, a woman crazy about kids, had been captivated by Brie on a brand new level, watching her with Blaine. She was also a woman who'd had to tie Thunder to the wall that morning. Neither of these womanly elements cared for Cailen's tone and she snarled, "Brie was merely answering Joan's question."
Elbows on the table, eyes shut, Cailen massaged her temples for a moment. She was about to attempt something conciliatory when Joan broke in.
"Look, we've all been thrust into an outlandish, frightening drama here. Let's not satisfy any of Sassy's wishes, including the one that we not stick together." Nobody offered argument to that, so Joan went on. "We've all had time to ponder Sassy's assault. Let's try to piece together the most elegant response, if there is one."
Brie posed her best idea. "Didn't you tell me a couple of years ago that there's a clause in your contract with Sassy about not selling horses to the killers as long as you’re able to place them with new owners?"
Nodding without looking hopeful, Joan cleared up the point. "I double checked the wording on that last night. It only applies to horses that have raced under the Caulder colors. Penny went back home unraced, so the clause doesn't protect her."
"Too bad, it would have been satisfying to stomp on her with a technicality."
Hannah tried another avenue. "What about the Humane Society?"
Brie shook her head. "Totally powerless in this situation. By virtue of ownership, Sassy has full legal rights to sell Penny, even to the killers."
More dead end ideas only strengthened the case for Cailen's resolution, which was bold, decisive and criminal. And she dreaded Joan's reaction to it. When she'd just about decided the time had come to suggest it, Joan beat her to the punch.
"Unless one of us has a brainstorm in the next few minutes," Joan consulted her watch, "I'm afraid there's no way to guarantee Penny's safety short of committing a felony. We have to steal her from Rainier Farms, and soon."
All the bunched up muscles in Cailen's shoulders eased and she gathered Joan's hands from the opposite side of the table. "That's absolutely our only real choice. I was so afraid you'd object."
"No, I don't object, as long as we minimize the exposure."
Suspicious of that, Brie swung around to face Joan. "Explain what 'minimize the exposure' will mean."
Joan was far too accommodating for Brie's liking. "All it means is that apparent responsibility shouldn't be spread out among us, but should be concentrated. Now, we can pull this off without getting caught, I really believe that. But in the unlikely event something goes wrong, if blame can only be assigned to me, then we've still got the advantage that Sassy wouldn't want to see me put in jail." Joan fluttered her eyelashes. "She's sweet on me, you know."
Three heads shook vehemently and they all voiced objections at once, overlapping to near incoherence but getting across the theme that sacrificing Joan was not an option. It took ten full minutes for Joan to bat away their protests and drive home the logic of her reasoning. That done, all they need figure out was exactly how to extricate a half-ton, field-high filly from the steel, stone, and electronic embrace of Rainier Farms' security system.
But first there was a more human issue Joan wanted to bring to the table. "Something that has nagged at me since this all began is Sassy's certainty that a threat against Penny would devastate Cailen. That much regard for an animal is outside Sassy's emotional range, so what gave her the idea to use it in the first place?"
Laying her hands out palms up on the marred tabletop, Cailen reiterated, "She didn't show a hint of doubt, not a trace."
"Surely such confidence in her power over you came from somewhere outside Sassy's personal experience." A look filled with meaning flittered between Joan and Brie. It said Brie, if you know what I'm getting at, would you please be the one to say it first?
Brie did know what she was getting at, and it made perfect sense. "Cailita, Lara already helped Sassy once. It seems possible to me she's the one who thought up this whole mess. I mean, Lara knows your heart when it comes to horses, she also knows from experience how much you'll give up for something you love and, sorry to say it baby, but she has never hesitated to use that against you."
Until that moment, Cailen had regarded Lara's offensiveness as an ingredient of the muddle they'd made of their relationship, something spawned by that, but lacking independence from it. Beneath the selfishness and manipulation Lara had learned to wield so effectively against Cailen, there had remained an unconscious assumption that the literal, decent Lara still existed. This notion that self-sustaining treachery flourished as much at Lara’s core as within Sassy Rainier was something new to digest.
Cailen directed a question to Joan. "Do you think Lara's helping with this?"
"I do."
Cailen sat up straighter. "Okay, then, good to know. Just another parameter. We need to know the parameters, what all we're up against. So, let's hammer this out. I guess the first step is to go over everything we know about that security setup. Brie, you first. I realize it's been a few years since you lived there, but tell us everything you remember about the security."
"Let's see, I was never inside the control room, but Joan was. The outside stuff, I was around it a lot. For one thing, they have these tags on all the pastured horses, sewn into their halters. And they're all numbered. So, say I needed to go out and bring in horse number eight fifty-eight. Well, somebody with that day's access code would have to notify the control room that eight fifty-eight would be leaving its designated area."
Cailen had to admire the simple logic of the arrangement. "These tags used radio frequency identification?"
"I'm not sure, all I know is that they allowed the positions of all the horses on the whole place to be monitored from up at control."
"That's good, Brie, I'm sure it was RFID. Joan, when you were in the control room, could you tell how the monitoring was displayed?"
"What do you mean?"
"Like, was there a big grid representing the maze of pastures, with moving or blinking lights showing each horse's pinpointed position?"
"No, I'm positive there was nothing like that. I remember a screen broken up into pasture segments, each with columns of numbers that had green lights beside them. Wait, it was difficult to take in all that the guy behind the console was telling me, but it seems he said the light stayed green as long as the horse remained in its assigned pasture."
All this was jogging Brie's memory. "Right, and the horse had to make a movement, even a tiny one, once in a while, or else the control room sent somebody out to make sure everything was okay."
"This is very good." Cailen was perking up now that an actual plan was forming. "So, they were only interested in whether each horse was alive and in the pasture where it belonged. Neither of you recalls anything that informed control of the exact spatial position of a given horse, right?"
Neither of them did, and Cailen said she was certain she could remove Penny from the property undetected by the control room. Next, the discussion turned to routes. Penny was embedded fairly centrally in the maze of pastures. They'd have to exit through the back of the property, navigating pasture after pasture before reaching there. Again, Brie's knowledge of the farm was invaluable.
"One break is that all the stallions are either in stalls or turned out in pastures closer to the big barns, so you don't have to worry about dodging them. To get out," Brie glanced from Cailen to Joan and back again, "this will take place in the dark, I suppose?"
"Definitely."
"To get out, it'll be important to remember that each pasture has two gates, located diagonally from each other, one in the northeast corner and one in the southwest corner. You can count on that, in case it's a moonless or cloudy night."
"The fence isn’t wired, is it? I don’t recall having to worry about that when Joan and I took Penny out there."
"For some reason, no."
Cailen nodded. "Not surprising, with the RFID doing all the work. Why run all that hardware when you don't have to? Okay, Brie, once we get her past all those gates and through all those fields, are there any decent spots on the farm's perimeter where we can stash a trailer and load her inconspicuously?"
"Two that I can think of. But let me draw them for you." She scrounged a bright pink flyer, blank on the back, and a child's fat pencil from the top counter drawer. "Okay, say this is the very center pasture." Drawing lots of surrounding rectangles, she asked, "You do realize it's going to be a huge distance with lots of pastures to cross? Now, here's the back row of fields, no horses in these." She shaded in the border of empty fields. "Right about here, relative to that back corner, the one most to the northeast,” she briskly sketched a rough compass in an upper corner of the flyer, “right about here, a large gravel tongue juts back behind the vegetation that shields the fields from the road. It would be easy to pull off onto that with a trailer and just wait."
"What's it ordinarily used for? Surely something." Cailen correctly surmised that everything on the Rainier estate carried the weight of serving a distinct purpose.
"Whenever they're working with heavy equipment on that side of the place, they park it there overnight instead of hauling it all the way back to maintenance. But even if there's something sitting there, we’ll have room to pull in. This time of year, though, I don't think there'll be anything." Brie was drawing again. "Now the other place is all the way over to the west here. Way over here, the farm backs up to a rest area off the interstate. You wouldn't think you could get her onto a trailer there, but you could. A concrete cutoff from the main asphalt goes around behind the building."
"Mmm. That sounds a little too public, doesn't it?"
"Not really. You’re probably as anonymous and unnoticed in an interstate rest stop as on a crowded street in Manhattan. The reason I know about it being a decent place to load is because it’s where hunters who used to trespass on the farm got their kills out. Remember the year somebody shot that yearling, Joan?"
"Must have been before my time there, surely I'd remember a thing like that."
Brie shrugged. "Thought you were already around. Anyway, every year since that happened they've posted a small army in those fields during hunting season. I used to volunteer to do overtime back there. We all just sat around in trucks or whatever, keeping a lookout. But this time of year? It's deserted. You could wait with a trailer in the rest area and pull around back when Penny got there. Only problem is there's a creek you'd have to get the filly across and we don't know whether it's swollen right now." Brie looked around. "So, which spot sounds best?"
Cailen was picturing herself aboard Penny, picking their way along the perimeter fields, searching for landmarks. "At night, which would be easier to locate?"
"The rest area lights show up pretty well, so you couldn't miss it. But that gravel tongue used to have a tall green security light that would make it easy to find in the dark, too, if it's still there. If the light isn't working, you still couldn't go wrong by constantly working your way north and east, and eventually the white gravel would show up."
Cailen surveyed the table. "Take a vote?"
Unanimity met the gravel tongue.
Next came the problem of getting Cailen to Penny. She couldn’t exactly wander out among all those fields and horses at night and expect to find her.
With regard to how they'd position themselves at Rainier Farms in the first place, Joan took over. "My truck is familiar enough to arouse no suspicion under normal circumstances. But given Sassy's visit yesterday, I should have a damn good reason ready for showing up right now. Tell me how this sounds. Without mentioning Cailen specifically, I let show that I am distraught and feeling restless, so I've decided to distract myself by taking a very active interest in Corporate Governance, that big investment colt Sassy bought a few months ago. In fact, I'll drive all the way over there to watch him gallop, saying I might bring him to Churchill in a few days to give him the experience of being here during the Derby hoopla before next year, when he’ll be a three-year-old and I'm very much hoping to run him in it."
When there was no dissent over the plausibility of that approach, Joan went on. "Cailen, I have no illusions that you intend any less than leading Penny out personally, so I won't argue with you over it, as long as I have your word that if there's a surprise, if something goes wrong, responsibility shifts entirely to me. Do I have your word?"
"How do you expect to take the blame for her sneaking a horse worth fifty thousand dollars off the owner's property?"
Cailen could have strangled Hannah for saying that. She had hoped to keep this promise rather hazy in nature.
"Cailen is still on Caulder Stables' books as an employee. She's simply doing what her employer directed, no reason needed. Will you promise to play it that way, Cailen?"
"We won't get caught."
"Correct, but humor me. Think of it as going for the best odds that nothing separates us. Sassy would prosecute you with glee. I don't believe she'd press charges against me."
Their plan was tight, they wouldn't get caught and Joan was right about the rest. "I promise. But we're not getting caught, understood?"
"Understood. I can smuggle you onto the farm in my truck bed's carryall. I'll casually inform Mag that I'm going to drive out for a quick visit with Penny. Nothing remarkable there. In fact, not going to Penny might seem odd. We'll pull up next to the run-in shed. Brie, every field has a run-in, doesn't it?"
"Every one. And that reminds me, between three and four each afternoon and between six and seven each morning, a bunch of feed trucks go out to drop grain at the sheds. So those times have to be avoided for sure."
Joan was nodding. "I'll be careful to go out after five that afternoon. So, once we're next to the shed, Cailen can slip from the truck with a shank and wait for darkness before leading Penny out. Any idea how long it should take, Brie?"
"Leading Penny, cutting through all those gates and on foot, I can't be exact, but better allow for a couple of hours, maybe longer. Really, the place is huge."
Matter-of-factly, Cailen amended, "We can cut that quite a bit, because I'll be riding her."
Brie went directly to the top. "Joan, that filly's been in the field for five months! You know how much on her toes she'll be. It's crazy to try riding her out. You know it's much safer to stay on the ground."
Joan was inclined to agree. Cailen had no idea how high they could get, out free like that. But Joan concentrated on Cailen's perspective, all those mornings she and Penny had puttered around the backside.
"Brie, the ground would be the safer place for you or me, but Cailen knows where she's more at home, and she understands Penny. How about a compromise where she takes a bridle and bit as well as a shank?"
Brie folded her arms across her chest. "I'll be worrying the whole time, but I guess that'll be true anyway. Do you even know how to ride bareback?"
"Sure, it's like riding in a saddle, only no footrests."
Bad move. Brie flared. "Cocky! She's getting cocky, Joan, and with her, that always leads to being careless." She folded her arms again, with more force this time. "Don't let her take the bridle."
Joan slammed the table. "I am not the mother here. Got it? Quit making these appeals to me."
In such a small a room it wasn't easy for that many pairs of eyes to avoid all the others, but they did it. For almost a full minute.
Then Joan took a deep breath and noted with frank delicacy, "Okay, we've each had our turn at snapping someone's head off. Let's hope that's out of our systems now and that we focus on getting that filly off that farm."
It was Brie's contritely murmured, "Yes, mother," that put a true end to the sporadic disharmony.
A heavy thump in the living room brought their attention to the door they were tenuously secured behind.
Brie noticed the stove clock time. "Four already. The kids have been home from school for over an hour and nobody has raided the kitchen? Cinda is working a miracle for us."
"They must be half starved, poor things. I remember how my brother and I would hit the kitchen after school, especially on gray rainy days like this. There isn't a hunger quite like that. Call them in, Brie."
But Brie was inspecting the refrigerator. "Sometimes there isn't a whole lot around, other than jelly bread, which isn't bad to hold them off until supper, but it gets kind of old. Maybe I'll run out to the store real quick and get something good."
Joan didn't want to gape into someone else's refrigerator, but could imagine how the contents of this one must contrast with the tempting vistas of fruit, lunchmeat, leftover cake and pie, cheese and fresh milk she had always found inside theirs at home. She spied a pizza delivery magnet stuck to the refrigerator's freezer door. "Let's call out for pizza, lots of it, and soft drinks."
Brie lit up. "I'll pitch in. They'll blow a gasket when pizza all of a sudden magically appears."
"Is this place good? And do they deliver cookies?" Joan put a fingertip on the magnet.
"Their favorite, that's why it's on the fridge. I think they'll send cookies, we can ask."
Joan already had her cell phone out and was punching buttons. As the number rang, she fished a credit card from her back pocket. She doubled the order Brie relayed and added too many soft drinks. "What kinds of desserts do you have? Then how about a dozen chocolate chip and a dozen macadamia nut?" Brie was bouncing on the balls of her feet, a preview of how the kids were going to jump up and down when they found out.
"How long did they say?"
"Thirty minutes."
Brie opened the door by pulling on the hole where its knob should be. "I should warn Cinda, but don't worry, we'll keep it a surprise for the kids."
Cailen was feeling optimistic about Penny's rescue. One thing she knew for certain was that once she had her hands on Penny, Sassy would have to kill to get her back. While they waited for Brie to return, she accused Joan, "You like kids."
"I do not!"
"I saw your face when you ordered pizza for them. You like kids."
Joan found an indignant excuse. "We are supposed to be in this house demolishing margarita after margarita. The arrival of several pizza boxes brilliantly substantiates that ruse. Hannah, don't you think the pizza lends ingenious authenticity to our story?"
"Sure, but you aren't that great an actress, Joan. Face it, you like kids."
Finally. Something you two agree on. "Gang up on me, I don't care. I feel too good to mind, because I'm starting to believe we can pull off this heist. What's your opinion, Hannah? You’ve been a bit quiet. Does all this sound too farfetched? Maybe we're getting carried away."
"No, what you've worked out so far is totally doable. Of course, there's—"
Brie came back in, breathless. "Sorry, it took a minute to get Cinda off to herself." She turned her chair around and straddled it. "Blaine sends his regards, Cailen. Did I miss anything?"
"Tell him I love him, too. No, we were just using up time 'til you got back."
"Great, I'm back. Let's go over what we have so far. Joan sneaks Cailen into the pasture, Cailen walks," a sideways slide of the eyes at Cailen, "or rides, the filly all the way back to Aiken Road, to the gravel turnaround, where I'll be waiting with a truck and trailer. Now, we shouldn't use the fancy—"
"Hold it. Who said you'd be driving the trailer?" Joan wanted to keep things as uncomplicated as possible. "I'll meet Cailen and Penny."
Hannah came forward, alert. "Brie, you don't need to be running around in the middle of this."
"Who's running around? Somebody has to drive that rig. Joan, you're supposed to be there to have a look at the big shot horse. How would you explain dragging the trailer along, unless you ship him out right away? But then you'd have to take the fancy outfit Sassy gave you and that thing's too conspicuous. We can't put Penny on that without drawing all kinds of attention. And the timing would be totally wrong. You'd have to have What's His Name, Derby Hopeful, on the trailer when you picked her up plus, you'll probably be followed when you leave the farm. Impossible. It can't be you. It has to be me."
Cailen sighed. "She's right."
"Not necessarily. Give me a minute to think this through." Hannah didn't try to hide her aggravation with Cailen. "For one thing, Brie is too well known by people around there. Somebody might recognize her. I'll drive the trailer."
"Recognize her where? Nobody better even see her or the trailer." Cailen had zero intention of entrusting such a critical role to Hannah.
Screeches and screams went up in the living room.
Brie smiled at Joan. "Pizza's here. Okay, so I'm bringing the trailer. Will we borrow Anna's again? And whose truck should I drive?"
Joan had anticipated this part. "I don't believe it's fair to implicate Anna or connect her name to this, however remotely, by using her trailer. She's too invested in the thoroughbred world. But there’s someone else who might be doubly useful, and I think he's far enough removed from racehorses and Churchill to be viewed as an innocent party. Stevie Stroustrup, who was my best friend all through school, has one of those pony party businesses. He pulls a two-horse trailer around with a very nondescript, older model pickup. It's old, but Stevie keeps it in good shape. That thing would blend in anywhere, perfectly unmemorable. And I really think he'll loan it to me, especially on a weekday. The other part is that the pony party industry doesn't bring in a lot of cash. Stevie lives way back in the boonies, where he mainly wants to make enough to support his love of fixing up old cars. He'd probably be very open to boarding Penny on his place, and unless we were caught in the act of taking her in there, I can guarantee she'll be out of the way for as long as we require. Brie, you'd have to call my dad when you get off at their exit and have him show you back to Stevie's place."
Cailen shrugged and nodded at the same time. "Lot of ifs, when can you talk to him?"
"Right now, from here.” Standing tentatively, Joan said, "Why don't you all run the fine brush over our plan one more time while I see if I can get Stevie?" When there were no objections, she ducked out the back door, drawing her cell phone.
The call went better than Joan could have asked. Returning to the kitchen, she said, "Well, ladies, that went well. Stevie even has a set of dummy plates for the trailer so the bad guys wouldn’t be able to trace us if somebody notices it.” Joan rubbed her hands together and said, “Looks like we're going to abduct a filly. Tomorrow night."
All reigning order blew straight to hell. Cailen cocked her head to its stubborn slant and launched into a list of all the reasons why they needed more time. Hannah actually got to her feet, threatening to leave. Brie, who'd been filling in landmarks on her drawing, bounced the chubby pencil’s eraser onto the table to the accompaniment of a blur of Spanish curses and stood too, ready to follow Hannah.
Three stressed out women, all low on sleep and food, one suffering from an estrogen imbalance, and Joan Caulder was able to bring them around to her ambitious agenda in eight minutes. She actually timed it.
The salient features of Joan's logic were that such a rapid response would be unanticipated by Sassy, Lara, and their people. Not that they should count on taking them off guard, but it couldn't hurt to try and wrong-foot them. Also, who wanted to spend one more day in this paranoid limbo than was absolutely necessary? Nobody. Then there was the compelling reality of springtime and the pony party business. Tomorrow and the next day, Thursday and Friday, Stevie and his trailer were free, but for Saturday and Sunday they were solidly engaged.
The stiffest objection came from Cailen. "That gives me no time to get you a new cell phone. Sassy knows the number you have now. With RFID on the horses and all the other technology they have in place, I'd bet her security guys are able to intercept phone conversations to and from a known number, as long as the phone is on the farm or in the immediate area. And we need to be able to communicate. So, I thought I'd pick up a new phone for you."
Joan had to think about that one for a bit. "The phone needs to be in the immediate area to be intercepted and they'd have to know the number?"
"Yeah, but we should define that to be a large area."
"So, if Car and I switch phones, she doesn't have his number, that should work, right?"
Brie winked. "You married a clever woman, Cailita."
"Too clever." Cailen reluctantly allowed, "Yeah, that would work and it would keep me from raising any red flags by shopping for a new phone. Does Sassy have your number, Brie?"
"Take a guess."
"Okay, that's a no. Anyway, there’s no reason for her to even look it up, since you aren’t involved as far as she knows. Then moving on this tomorrow shouldn't be as tough as it sounded at first."
"Lovely. Now, Stevie is going to leave his little rig parked at that last rest stop before you get to my parents' exit on sixty-four. Brie, if you can scrunch down on the floor of my truck to that far, I'll pull the same trick as with Cailen at the run-in shed. I'll stop the truck close to the restroom so you can pop out and duck inside. Whoever follows me shouldn't even be off the ramp before we get you into the building. I'll go in, pretend to use the bathroom, and resume my innocent trip to Camden. You can wait five or ten minutes before following in Stevie’s rig."
Brie had taken her seat again, but Hannah continued to pace and suggested, "In case there's a problem with the gravel pickup place, I don't think it would hurt to check out that creek behind the rest area, the one Cailen would have to get Penny across if you had to load her there. Brie, would it be convenient for one of you to stop there and check the creek on your way to the farm?"
"Great idea, yeah, we pass it on the way. I can stop and run back there to have a look. Nobody will be following me. Won't hurt to have a backup plan."
Joan beamed. "Wonderful. Are we all set, then?"
"Except for how to get me into the carryall and Brie on the floor of your truck without being seen."
"Damn, this is like functioning in quicksand."
Hannah, reluctantly resolved to Brie being in the middle of this, offered, "Why not have my brother take your truck out to fill the gas tank right before training in the morning? You'll be leaving from the barn and in a rush, right?"
"As soon as we can get away, yes."
"Okay, Car takes your truck, and whoever is watching you stays at the barn." Hannah looked at Cailen. "I hate to suggest this, but if you stay here overnight again, Car could come by and pick you up in the morning after topping Joan's tank. And for bonus, we wouldn't have to take the chance of smuggling you back through Paul's house tonight to get you into ours."
Joan cringed for Cailen, but Hannah's proposal did make sense.
Cailen flashed on Blaine's round blue eyes peering at her over the fist raised to his mouth for thumb sucking access. "You're right. You're right. That's the smartest course. I'll spend the night here again, if Cinda's agreeable." Cailen civilly addressed this to Hannah before adding to Joan and Brie. "We owe Cinda big time for all this."
"As for getting Brie into the truck," Hannah encircled Brie in her arms, "we're going to sneak off to the room first thing when we get there in the morning and Joan, if you pick up a load of bran on your way home tonight, which we are actually running short of, then in the morning drive your truck into the shedrow for unloading next door in the feed room, Brie can slide into the truck from the room and nobody watching from outside could possibly see. In case Jimmy's paying attention, I won't emerge for several minutes, and then I'll make sure he hears me mention that Brie's taking a nap. In fact, since Brie won't be showing up for work, Car and I can make sure Jimmy hears that she isn't feeling well. I'll make fake visits to the room with tea and stuff all morning."
"Brilliant, Hannah. We're low on bran?" Joan usually knew the supplies inventory pretty well.
"Uh-huh."
"I'll also give Mag a call tonight, explaining that I need to get away from Louisville and will be driving over to watch Gov gallop."
So the felony, as Joan had to repeatedly ask Brie to quit calling it, was arranged down to the fine print by seven o’clock that evening, when Brie and Hannah considerately gave Joan and Cailen a few minutes alone in the kitchen.
At first, they could only look at each other in astonishment at what they were about to do.
Joan said, "Last chance. Is there any way we can get around this?"
"Can't think of any." Cailen hugged her close. "Thanks."
"Don't thank me, I love her as much as you do. Think maybe you can get some sleep tonight, angel? We've mapped out a big day for ourselves tomorrow." Joan rearranged the hug to make kissing easier.
"I'll try. If you throw some blankets in the carryall, I can probably sleep on the way to South Carolina. Um…you know how I gave you my word about letting you take the blame?"
"Not negotiable, Cailen, I mean it." Joan's tone went arctic.
"I'm not reneging, but now I want your word on something. If there's a problem—a million unexpected things could come up out there—and you don't hear from me by the time you think you should have tomorrow, I need your word that you and Brie will sit tight until daybreak. If Penny and I get stranded out there in the daylight and turn up in a strange pasture when they come around to feed, we're sunk anyway, so by that time it won't matter if you and Brie act independently. But until morning, I want to be able to count on you guys going strictly to plan. And let me initiate any phone calls, don't call me, okay?"
"Why?"
"Because of the off chance somebody comes out to check on one of the horses and Penny and I have to lay low. All we'd need is for the phone to sound off or even vibrate and scare her or me and give us away. So, let's just agree that any communication will be initiated by me."
"Got it."
"You'll both stay put until morning? I can count on that much time to work with, no matter what happens, definitely?
"Word of honor. I'll tell Brie."
Cailen held on tight again. "We should get out there. I miss you so much."
"Me too. We'll be sleeping together in our own bed Friday night and Penny will be safe and sound."
"One more kiss. I love you."
When the kiss ended, Joan smacked Cailen's butt and whispered, "Try to refrain from staring at little Blake tonight."
"Blaine."
© 2006 Margo Moon
