The Prince
Nora squeezed Wesley’s hand as Talel—wearing jeans and a black shirt and looking as exotically handsome as usual—came down the stairs toward them with a smile on his face.
“It’s always a good day when the Prince of Kentucky and the Queen of the Underground come calling.” Talel shook Wesley’s hand and kissed Nora on the cheek.
“Ex-Queen of the Underground,” she told him. “I’ve retired.”
“I heard the rumors. I didn’t believe them, then. I don’t believe them now. Let me take you to the stables and hand you a riding crop. We’ll see how long it takes before you start swatting someone with it.”
Nora released a wistful sigh. “I do miss all my riding crops. I kept the red one, of course.”
“You’d be Arthur without Excalibur had you given it up. Now, to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?” Talel asked as he ushered them into the front room.
Nora’s eyes widened at all the silver cups and trophies that littered the massive living room. They sat on the fireplace mantel, the windowsills, on shelves and tables and podiums. Ribbons spilled out of the cups. Sashes draped across the trophies.
“Damn.” She nodded in approval.
“If you’re impressed by my winnings,” Talel said as he beamed his smile around the room, “it’s only because you haven’t seen the trophy room at The Rails.”
“No, I haven’t. Why is that, Wes?”
“Because Dad won’t let you in the house,” Wesley reminded her.
“Right. Forgot. Anyway, Talel…we just came by about Spanks for Nothing. What the hell happened?”
Talel sighed heavily and shook his head. “We’re trying to find that out. He was on some medication for some slight congestion. Possibly the dose was off. I can’t say for certain. It’s a tragedy. Amazing horse. Impressive speed and stamina. Could run on any track. Headed for the Derby.”
“And he was cute, too,” Nora said, frowning.
“And he was cute.” Talel gave her hand a quick squeeze.
“Who’s investigating?” Wesley asked, not even glancing at the trophies around the room. Nora saw him staring directly at Talel. Surely Wesley didn’t suspect him of any foul play.
“The usual—the track veterinarian, the insurance company. Spanks for Nothing was insured for forty.” He shrugged as he straightened a blue ribbon.
Nora felt her eyes nearly explode from her face.
“Forty million?”
“We were being conservative. Such a waste…” Talel sighed. “I’m trying not to think about it too much until they’ve finished the investigation. I don’t want heads to roll. I’m sure whatever happened was simply an accident. I’d just like my horse back.”
“I know how you feel,” Wesley said. “We lost Aphorism to colic last year. Dad acted like he’d lost his best friend.”
“Aphorism was a fine animal. Impressive specimen. As was Spanks. But we’ve a few fine specimens left.”
“Do you mind if we tour the stables?” Wesley asked. “Dad told Nora she’s not allowed near our horses. She’s been in the mood to play with the ponies.”
Talel paused a moment before answering. “Of course. I’d love to accompany you, but I’ve nothing but meetings today, about the incident. Should I get my manager for you?”
Wesley waved his hand. “We’ll find our way around.”
“Forgive me, but please, visit the stallion barn only. Our other barns are going through some renovations right now. For your safety. The stallions are in the main stable.”
“Definitely,” Wesley said. “Nora just wants to see some horses.”
Nora kept her face composed. Mr. Railey hadn’t banned her from the stables. He’d probably thought about it, but he hadn’t outright said she couldn’t be around the horses.
“Mistress, a pleasure as always.” Talel kissed her on both cheeks, and she patted him on top of his head, as patronizingly as she could.
“For old times’ sake.”
She and Wesley left the house and paused on the porch.
“What?” she asked as Wesley exhaled loudly through his nose.
“Something’s smelly.”
“That’s all the horseshit. I think I got some on my shoe.” Nora lifted her foot.
“Not literally smelly. I don’t know. Something’s weird about Spanks for Nothing. Talel should be more upset about it. That horse was a money machine. And forty million’s about what he’d make in one year on stud fees.”
“And?”
“Some horses live for twenty years or more. That horse could have brought in one or two hundred million dollars over the next five to ten years.”
“But Talel’s richer than God. That’s pocket change to him.”
“Nora, a hundred million dollars isn’t pocket change to anybody. Come on.”
She followed Wesley to the car, and in silence they drove half a mile to where half a dozen stables stood in a ring at the end of the drive. They left the car and walked to the nearest one. Nora whistled when they stepped inside.
“Wesley, this is ridiculous,” she said, glancing around. “I know Connecticut insurance execs whose houses aren’t as well decorated as these damn stables.”
“Tell me about it. The Rails has swimming pools for the horses, heated stalls, spas... Our top horses get massages, have homeopaths doing acupressure on them... It’s crazy how spoiled these damn animals are.”