all…until Camillo comes back. In that case, you’d work under him through the jumper season, but he would resume teaching lessons and scheduling. Regardless, the hours are long and you’d have to work every weekend.”
Derrick’s grin faded slightly. “I need this job.”
“And you agree to the pay we discussed?” He nodded.
“Good then.” She shook his hand. It felt strong and warm against hers. “Are you ready to move in?”
“No. I can stay for the rest of the day but I have an appointment with the dean to sign my leave papers in the morning. I can be back tomorrow by late afternoon.”
Emilie clenched her teeth. First he’s late and now he needs a day off? Why was she agreeing to this? Mr. Winslow, she reminded herself. Mr. Winslow and the Olympics.
“That’s fine.” She tried to keep the irritation from her voice. “Anyway, I forgot to ask the housekeeper to run through the apartment where you’ll be staying. My father wants you near the main house. I hope that’s okay? Camillo lived here in the old barn, but he left everything behind and it’s a mess.”
Derrick grinned again and an unfamiliar warmth spread through Emilie as she finally managed to look into his gray eyes.
“I’d be happy to sleep with Redman if you asked me to,” he said. “I’ve never been in a heated barn before. Don’t tell me it’s air-conditioned, too?”
Of course it’s air-conditioned. Silly man. “You want to sleep with Redman? I can arrange that.” She smirked.
His smile stretched so wide the dimple reappeared on his left cheek. “Ah. You do have a sense of humor.”
Heat rose to her cheeks. She turned and strode quickly to the old barn, pushing her way through the heavy doors that divided the two structures.
“I guess the stable hand must have closed these.” Although she couldn’t imagine why. “We usually leave them open.”
Emilie stopped after taking two steps into the old barn.
“Is something wrong?” Derrick asked.
“I don’t know…Just—those doors should be open, and this door,” she pointed to Camillo’s tack room door, “it should be closed and locked. In fact, it was locked yesterday. I don’t know why…”
Had Camillo come back?
She rushed into the dark room, fumbling for the switch. A putrid odor stung her nostrils and robbed her of oxygen. As light flooded the space, she gasped and stumbled back.
No. Not Camillo.
But there was his body. Stiff and strangely twisted. Clearly dead. Broken boards from old jump standards lay around him. And blood.
Emilie screamed but heard nothing as she went limp down to the floor.
TWO
Derrick scooped Emilie into his arms. She’d become completely unresponsive as he carried her back to the front stable. Shock had set in. He, meanwhile, fought waves of nausea, which he feared would only worsen after witnessing such a sight.
A dead body in a stable…
It raised all sorts of questions, like why? And how? What had happened to the poor man? Who was he?
Derrick had been too worried about Emilie to really study the situation but the man was most definitely dead. The smell was enough to be certain of that. As soon as he got Emilie settled, he’d have to call the police.
He swallowed hard, forcing the agitated gastric juices back down his throat, fighting his own shock. He hadn’t expected to deal with anything like this at the new stable. Not by any stretch of the imagination.
What am I doing here, Lord?
Derrick didn’t know what to pray exactly, but seeing death had thrown him from his usual state of comfort. And that only his Savior could restore.
Inside the front office, Derrick laid Emilie on a small couch adjacent to her desk. She made no acknowledgment of him, even when he brushed back some strands of fine blond hair caught on her cheek. Her eyes, which had earlier struck him with their vibrancy, now appeared dull and drained. But she breathed normally and seemed steady enough, so he turned away and dialed nine-one-one from her desk phone.
As they waited, he pulled a chair beside the couch and took her tiny hand in his. A single tear slid down her pale, colorless cheek. Her eyes focused on something beyond him. He followed the direction of their gaze to a photo on the wall behind him. Encased in a silver frame, the picture showed Emilie atop a large gray horse. An attractive Latino stood beside them, holding the reins and an enormous trophy. Derrick removed the picture from the wall and handed it to Emilie. She folded her arms around it, hugging it to her chest.
The former groom? That was whose body they’d found? The weight of a thousand stones pressed down on him. His lungs fixed tight, no air in and no air out. What had happened here?
“He must have come back for something,” she whispered. “And those jump standards fell on him….”
“I should have gone in first.” Derrick moistened his dry lips and forced some air into his chest. “I’m sorry. You shouldn’t have seen that.”
She turned to him slowly, her eyes unfocused. “You know, we worked together for four years. All he left was a one-line note. Had to go. Don’t look for me. That’s all it said. That’s it. Like he never wanted to see me again.” She began to sob.
Derrick slumped with desperation. “I’m sorry, Emilie. Maybe he was sick or had a problem and didn’t want you to worry.”
“But I could have helped,” she said with force. Anger now replacing the sorrow. “Whatever he needed…I could have helped. Why didn’t he want my help?”
Derrick remained silent by her side until the police arrived. Then he showed them to the body and answered what questions he could. But it wasn’t long before they had no need of him. A female police officer stayed in the office with Emilie, who lay silent on the couch. Derrick felt useless and retreated to the north wing of the stable to get out of the way. How could he help? He didn’t even know the turnout routine.
After a moment, he donned a pair of gloves, found a manure fork and a wheelbarrow and put himself to work.
“I’m Detective Steele.” A voice boomed through Emilie’s office door, jarring her from a coma-like trance. “You must be Miss Gill. I need to speak with you, please.”
Emilie sat up, looked over at the man in the doorway and waved him inside. Short and thick, he walked with a limp and one fist propped on his hip.
He came in and took a seat in the chair that Derrick had used earlier. Then he dismissed the female officer that had been in the room. “The medical examiner has arrived. He’ll remove the body soon.”
Emilie shivered and checked the clock on the wall. Late afternoon. She’d lain there for hours. “I gave one of the officers Camillo’s family’s address and phone number in Mexico. Have you called
