Splintered Bones (26 page)

"Once your trust in human nature is gone, it's hard to find it again."

I spun the ice in my glass. "Is it the trust of others or of ourselves that we lose?"

"That water's a little too deep for preparty chitchat." Coleman put down his glass and offered his arm. "Are you ready? If you ask really nice, I'll let you turn on the siren."

The night was magnificent. The rain had cleared the atmosphere of everything except the magic of the stars. A billion of them winked anticipation as we drove the narrow county road.

"I want you to keep an eye on Bud tonight," Coleman said.

"Bud? Why?" I asked.

Coleman pulled up in the circular driveway of Swift Level, restraining me with a gentle touch on my arm. "There's more to Bud than Lee lets on. You've got a good eye. See who he talks to, what he does."

The valet opened my door and helped me out. Coleman walked around the car and handed over the keys, with instructions to keep it close. With my hand on his arm, we walked into the ball.

Swift Level was elegant and gorgeous unadorned, but with the huge arrangements of lemony-smelling magnolia blossoms hanging from the ceilings and along the crown molding, and the blooming rose vines that climbed the walls, it took on the appearance of an enchanted garden.

An orchestra, hidden behind a screen of potted, blooming azaleas, played a seductive melody. The floor was crowded. Coleman was not as flashy as Bud in the dance category, but he was sure and steady and smooth. As we swirled around the floor, it took only a few seconds for me to realize he was scoping out the room. Coleman could dance and detect--a multitasking fool.

Amidst a gentle scattering of applause when the song ended, Coleman whispered that he was getting to work. He gave my hand a squeeze as he left me to my own detecting.

I felt daggers in my spine and turned to find Carol Beth glaring at me. I gave her the royal wave, a cool turn of the hand that we'd all practiced in seventh grade.

"Want me to kick her ass?" Bud asked, slipping up behind me.

"Really hard. In public." I turned to face him, and smiled at his concession to hunt club dress: black jeans with a razor-sharp crease and western tails, string tie, and black hat. He had managed both handsome and eccentric with great finesse.

He laughed, and I felt the tug of his charm. Unfortunately, charm had no place in the evening. "1 need to talk to you," I said, steering him out to the patio where the light was still good but we had a bit of privacy. "Did you put something in my purse today?"

He lifted his eyebrows in surprise. "Like what? You already know my phone number."

"Don't play with me, Bud. This is serious."

"The answer is no."

I believed him.

He grinned. "I didn't leave you a present, but you're going to get one tonight. I called Benny today. I invited him to the ball. He should be here by..." He checked his watch. "Ten. And he didn't sound like he was in a good humor."

"You didn't!" My gut reaction was glee. "I'd better warn Harold." I didn't want to see him caught in the cross fire.

Bud shook his head. "Don't bother. Your banker friend's no fool. He knows the score."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"He isn't with Carol Beth for the pleasure of it. Watch him. He's taking care of business."

"I'll check it out," I promised, curious as to what Harold was actually up to.

The patio door opened, and Krystal Brook stepped out in a dark green sheath that hugged every inch. "I was wondering where you got off to, Bud." She came toward us. "Sarah Booth, have you seen Mike? He went to get me a drink an hour ago." She rolled her eyes. "I'm going to have to put a training collar on him."

She laughed and Bud smiled, but I could manage only a weak smile. Lillian Sparks stepped out on the patio, easing the silence that had suddenly developed. Lillian carried three drinks; she handed one to me and one to Bud.

"Krystal, I didn't know you were out here," Lillian said.

"No problem. I'm headed to the bar. My husband is probably behind it," Krystal said. "You owe me a dance, Bud. Just wait until we're sure Mike is too crocked to care."

"Lillian's my date," Bud said, putting his arm around the older woman. "Most sensible woman I've ever met."

Lillian was still laughing when Krystal left the patio, her hips undulating to the music as she wove through the dancers on her mission to the bar. Krystal still owed me a conversation, but now wasn't the time or place.

Lillian leaned against the patio wall beside me. "Bud asked me to tell you why Avenger can't be involved in a crime. In performance horses, temperament is half of everything. If Avenger were to be labeled a dangerous horse, a horse that injured humans, his value would drop radically. A horse that's dangerous, a rogue, is often destroyed."

"It doesn't matter, anyway," I said, thinking of the insulin.

Lillian turned to Bud. "Harold is signaling me for a dance. I doubt my ankles can take more than four or five measures. Do you mind?"

Bud kissed her cheek. "Show 'em what you've got, Lillian."

When she was gone, I picked up my conversation with Bud. "If you were a betting man, where would you lay your odds on who killed Kemper?"

He took my arm and led me to the stone wall, where Bud brushed off a place and we perched. "Eliminating me and Lee, I'd say that puts Carol Beth up to bat. To be honest, though, she doesn't really have a motive. She has a bill of sale. She didn't need to kill Kemper."

"And Kip? What about her?" I'd finally gotten to the real question. Kip had admitted that she was in the barn with intent.

Bud sipped his champagne. "If anyone had a
right
to kill Kemper, it was Kip. But she couldn't do it. She can't kill a roach."

I didn't believe it. "Does Lee keep a lot of drugs in the barn?"

He gave me a questioning look. "Just the typical drugs for emergencies. Rompum and Ace for tranquilizers. Banamine for colic. Why?"

"Is Carol Beth familiar enough with the barn to find the drugs?"

He frowned. "Anyone could. They aren't under lock and key. Most of them are in the little refrigerator in the office."

"Are any of the horses diabetic?"

"What are you getting at?" he asked.

I shook my head. "Better you don't know. Just answer the question."

"None of the horses are diabetic."

"Would it be possible to confuse Ace or Rompum with insulin?"

Bud stared at me, drawing his own conclusions. "I'm not that familiar with insulin. I'd assume they're all clear, injectable liquids. But we don't keep insulin around, so I couldn't say for certain."

"What did Carol Beth tell Coleman about your past?"

"Plenty. He had a lot of probing questions about
Texas
."

"And?"

"And I'm not worried. I was with Carol Beth, no matter what she says. She'll eventually tell the truth." He grinned. "Some mares take a little longer than others to bring under saddle."

I couldn't help but smile at his confidence. A confident man is truly irresistible.

"Now I've been on the hot seat long enough. No more questions unless you're going to explain the big interest in insulin," he said.

"I can't," I answered.

"Okay, then, a toast." He tipped his glass against mine. "To finding the truth, which shall set Lee free."

"One more question? This one is strictly personal." As Cece had pointed out, there wasn't a woman still breathing who wouldn't be attracted to Bud, but my question was more than nosiness.

"One more. That's the limit." He sipped his champagne.

"Have you ever been serious about a woman?"

"Once."

He answered without hesitation, and there seemed to be a hint of remorse in his tone. Bud Lynch had loved and lost. "What happened?"

"Hell, we were both too young. She said I wasn't capable of love. The ugly truth is that I got scared and ran."

I wondered if Bud was being honest or shooting me a line of bull that worked on all of his conquests.

"Was she right?"

He looked through the open doors of the patio into the ballroom, as if the answer might be found in the dancing couples or the floral arrangements. "That's the third question, but I'll answer it anyway. Yes, She was. And the real tragedy is that she won't believe I've changed."

There were a lot of things I started to ask, but something caught his eye. He abruptly stood up. "Excuse me, I need to have a word with someone."

I followed the direction of his gaze and saw Carol Beth with the other two women I sought--Susannah Adair and Elizabeth Cooper, the Daddy's Girls who were now members of Bud's mounted posse. Bud walked right past the women and disappeared among the throng of people. Tinkie, who looked ravishing in a coral Versace dress with three straps across the back, had Krystal in a corner. I'd catch up with Tinkie before the ball was over.

I needed to talk with Susannah and Elizabeth, though. "Hi," I said, rushing up with air kisses for them. I ignored Carol Beth, who was glaring at me.

"Sarah Booth." They both angled a skeptical look at me. "When did you take up hunting?"

"I'm a guest," I said. Age had used a tender hand to touch them. There were fine lines and a few sags, but all in all they hadn't changed since high school. Both had married Delta boys, though not from
Sunflower
County
.

"This ball isn't the same without Lee," Susannah complained. "If she was going to croak Kemper, she should have done it with poison. Kemper loved that andouille sausage. Hell, you could add just about anything to that and no one would ever be able to tell."

"I think a good old-fashioned medical emergency would have been the way to go,"
Elizabeth
countered. "What I don't understand is why Lee wasn't smarter. She knew how to kill him and get away with it. There's enough medicine in her barn to kill a small village. She could have made it look like a heart attack." She rolled her eyes. "It was just plain stupid to hit him in the head."

"Lee was never known for her brains." Carol Beth finally broke her silence.

"You're just jealous of her,"
Elizabeth
said. "You always have been. She has everything you ever wanted."

"But not for long," Carol Beth said with a cold smile. "Not for long." She walked away and reattached herself to Harold.

I seized my opportunity. "Ladies, I need an answer. Was Kemper attempting to blackmail either of you about your relationship with Bud?" My question was direct and to the point. I watched them closely.
Elizabeth
cut her gaze at Susannah and a silent message was exchanged.

"No," they said in unison.

Elizabeth
rolled her eyes. "You know, he would have if he'd thought about it. He just wasn't that smart."

"We can say he was, if it will help Lee," Susannah offered.

"Thanks," I said. "I'll get back with you on that."

Funny, everyone who knew Kemper was willing to lie to save Lee. I headed back into the thick of the party. My teeth gritted as I watched Carol Beth hang on Harold's arm. She was so busy flirting that she didn't see a short, plump man with a big scowl stalk up behind her. His balding head was red and his face a dark thundercloud. He grasped Carol Beth's arm, and when she turned, the look on her face was priceless.

"Benny, darling," she said. "I thought you were in
Berlin
."

"I gave you everything a woman could want," Benny said calmly, coldly. "You had credit cards, checking accounts, horses, lessons, barns, grooms, the finest farm in
Virginia
." He slipped a finger under the strap of her gown. "You have excellent taste, Carol Beth, and I indulged it. And what is my repayment?" He looked around the room, noting that everyone was staring at him. "You've made me a fool, a cuckold." He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out some papers. "My lawyer will be in touch."

Carol Beth grabbed at his coat. "Benny, give me a chance. Let me at least explain."

Benny turned away from her, then slowly turned back. "The worst part is that I truly care for you. Even knowing how greedy and manipulative you are, I still care."

"Benny, we can work this out," Carol Beth said. She glanced around her. The party had come to a halt, and everyone was staring. Even the band had quit playing. Blood rushed up Carol Beth's neck and into her cheeks. "I'm begging you, Benny. Just talk to me."

Benny turned away from her. For a short man, he was walking tall. He went straight out the front door.

"Benny," she called after him. She started to go, but Harold grasped her wrist. Putting an arm around her, he led her out onto the patio.

A soft murmur rippled through the guests, and I looked toward the door. Cece Dee Falcon was standing in the doorway in a black evening gown that was absolutely fabulous. Her escort was the short and dapper Nathaniel Walz.