Olivia glanced quickly at her watch. His hour was up; it had been for the past ten minutes. Hed been a tough case to crack and shed felt deeply for him. Dont get ideas, kid, she said. Im your therapist.
But youre cute, too.
Great. Now lets head back.
I can come and see Trickster when Im older. Old enough to be a lot cooler in your eyes.
Joey! Cut it out. Youre just saying that to get a reaction out of me and youre not going to. Im your therapist. And youre never going to be older than I am and were never going to date.
Wow. That life-not-being-fair thing is harsh! he said. But he was still grinning. Then his grin faded. Theyre talking about Marcus, you know. Theres a rumor that he went back on drugs. That they found heroin in his system when they did the autopsy.
Olivia felt her back stiffen. Marcus wasnt doing drugs, she said.
So, its a lie?
She winced. It wasnt a lie. But it was something that, so far, wasnt common knowledge, even though the medical examiner had informed the staff at the Horse Farm. Shed assumed that unless an investigative reporter actually looked into Marcuss death, no one would know it was true. And yet, rumors were obviously running rampant.
I heard there were drugs in his system, Joey said again.
I knew Marcus, Joey. If there were drugs in his system, they werent there because he voluntarily took them.
You think he was tricked? Joey asked.
I dont know what to think yet.
Wow. The plot thickens! Joey said excitedly. What if...wow. What if someone did drug him because they wanted him to die? Or what if he was pushed?
Joey, youre talking about someone who meant a lot to me.
Oh, Im sorry, Liv, really. Joey spoke with sincerity and she believed him. Its just that...well, we dont have radios or TVs or the internet where Im living right now. Im embarrassed. I heard about this, and it was more interesting to think about that than...well, my own recovery, I guess, he finished lamely.
Its okay. Im not angry with you.
Scary, though, huh? I mean, this place is here for therapy. Supposedly, working with animals saved Marcus Danbys life. If he wound up going back on drugs...well, it doesnt say much for therapy.
No, it doesnt, Olivia agreed.
She looked toward the pastures at the Horse Farm. She hadnt seen Marcus againor rather, hadnt seen his ghost. Had she imagined that shed seen him? Did theyshe and her cousin, Malachishare a real gift? Or did they just imagine things, see them in their minds?
Uncertain, and unhappy with the official explanation, shed called Malachi. But the results of the autopsy had just arrived that morning. She needed to call him again. Hed promised her hed try to arrange an investigation, but explained that he had to tread carefully; he couldnt come in officially unless invited. And because people knew he was her cousin, his arrival might give the appearance that the feds were intrudingor that she and the Horse Farm were receiving special treatment. But hed said hed figure something out.
Apparently, there was a government agent coming in as a client. A burnout, someone had called him. Was he Malachis answer to her request?
Olivia? Joey said.
Yeah? She tried to smile, realizing shed been deep in thought and that hed been watching her.
Im really, really sorry. I think this place is wonderful, Joey told her earnestly.
Thanks, Joey.
You all might have saved my life, he said. It works if you work it. Youre worth it, so work it!
Exactly, she said.
He nodded. She really did like the kid. Especially when he realized, as he occasionally did, that he was a kid.
Tell Trickster were going in, Olivia instructed him.
Joey turned and stroked the horses forehead. You are beautiful, Trickster, he whispered, then gazed up at Olivia. Do I get to ride? he asked.
Next session, she said. As you reminded me, were already over our hour. But next time, well definitely ride.
They returned to the Horse Farm. She watched as Joey brushed Trickster, brought her to her stall and fed her.
She didnt have the heart to go and wave goodbye to the others who were leaving.
In fact, she didnt even go back to the office. Aaron and the rest of the staff would be worrying, trying to figure out how to handle it if the news got out about Marcuss autopsy. It was probably too late if a kid like Joey had already heard. Next step would be deciding how they were going to spin the information about his death.
When Joey left with his group, she quickly checked on the horses. She was the only one in the stables and assumed everyone else had either gone into the office for further anxious discussionsor hurried home. She headed straight to her car and left, driving the 4.5 miles to the little ranch house shed visited so many times as a child. Shed purchased the place from her uncle once shed accepted the job at the Horse Farm.
Her home was old, dating from the 1830s. She loved the house, always had. A huge fireplace took up most of the parlor, the ladies sitting room had been turned into a handsome kitchen with shiny new appliances and off the hallway was a computer/game/what-have-you room. There were two bedrooms upstairs, along with a sitting room, modern additions when they were built on in the late 1850s. They were all comfortable and charming. Her uncle told her that the house had always been in their family; a cousin, son, daughter, niece or nephew had taken it over every time. Hed given her a great price and held the mortgage himself. Shed paid it off last year on her twenty-sixth birthday.
As she stood at the door, she heard Sammy whining.
The dog could have stayed at the Horse Farm; God knew, there were enough rescue pets there! But Sammy had belonged to Marcus, and his leg was just beginning to heal. No one had objected when Olivia had said she was bringing him home.
She opened the door and there he was, tail wagging as he greeted her. Olivia didnt have to bend far to greet him in return. Sammy was a big old dog who appeared to be a mix of many breeds. He had the coat of a golden retriever, the head of rottweiler and paws that might have belonged to a wolf. He had one blue eye and one half blue, half brownit was a freckle on the eye, shed been told.
He gazed up at her expectantly and sat back on his haunches. His hope and simple trust just about broke her heart. Hes not coming back, Sammy. Im sorry.
Sammy barked in response. She wondered just what dogs did and didnt understand.
Olivia threw her keys on the buffet at the entrance and walked to the kitchen to give Sammy a treat. As he gobbled up the tasty niblet of beef and pork, she promised him that shed be back downstairs in a minute. He couldnt go running out into the yard because he was still recovering from the gash on his hind leg.
She dashed upstairs, stripping as she went. She breezed through her bedroom to the bath and stepped into the shower, adjusting the water temperature until it was as hot as it could get. She stood there, feeling it rush over her, for a long time.
She wished she could turn off her mind.
Leaning against the tile, she wondered about Marcus. You didnt! she whispered aloud.
It was easy to believe that an addict had fallen back into drugs. It happened. Some relapsed and returned to therapy or recovered through their own determination and resolve.
But not Marcus! Marcus couldnt have relapsed.
She began to feel saturated by the heat and decided she was about to wrinkle for life. Turning the faucet off, she stepped out of the shower and reached for a towel, drying herself before slipping into her terry robe. Hurrying downstairs, she went back to the kitchen, ready to make a cup of tea. Rounding the stairs, she noticed that Sammy was quiet, just sitting there, staring at the front door.
At last!
Stunned and terrified, her heart pounding, she whirled toward the door. Her hand flew to her throat as she desperately wondered what weapon she might grab to defend herself.
But no one had come to attack her.
The speaker was Marcus Danby.
Or the ghost of Marcus Danby.
Good Lord, woman! What were you doing up there? I mean, just how clean can someone be? Marcus demanded. He moved toward her as he spoke. Oh, come on! You saw me before. You see me quite well right now, just like youve always been able to see General Cunningham and Loki. You think I didnt know? Of course I do! Youre like a ghost magnet, my dear girl. Close your mouthyour lower jaws going to fall off. Please, Olivia, he said in a gentler voice. I need your help. The Horse Farm needs your help.
2
Stepping off the plane and entering Nashville International Airport, Dustin heard the twangs and strains of a country music song. The sound made him smile. God, he loved Nashville. The city was unique in its mix of the up-and-coming and pride in its history. Music reigned supreme but without self-consciousness; it was ever-present like the air one breathed. People tended to be cordial. And, hell, what was not to like about an airport that had a coffee stand and the welcoming sound of good music the minute he arrived?
He paused for a minute, listening, feeling the buzz of activity around him. In the past decade hed lived in a number of different places but there was nothing like Nashville and nothing like coming home.
He picked up the paperwork for his rental car, then walked out of the airport and over to the multistoried garage to pick up the SUV hed rented. A few minutes later, he was following the signs for I-40. Soon he was headed off the highway to a Tennessee state road, passing ranches, acreages with herds of grazing cows and pastures where horses kicked up their heels and ran or nibbled at the blue-green grass.
A little while later, he was on the dirt path that led to Willis Housethe retreat where he had reservations. Willis House catered to those attending therapy at the Horse Farm and other nearby facilities. It wasnt a specialized facility, but advertisements for the inn stated that it was a clean environment in the exquisite and serene Tennessee hills. People didnt just come here because it was a clean-living facility, though. They also chose it because the area was so beautiful, or because they were visiting family or friends who were in therapy nearby.
The gravel drive was huge; there was certainly no problem with parking out here. He slid between a big truck and a small one and noted that the other cars in the lot included a nice new Jag, a Volvo, a BMW and a sad-looking twenty-year-old van.
Willis House was...a house. There was a broad porch with rockers, and he noted an old-timer sitting in one of them, staring as he approached.