Barbara Dunlop - Millions To Spare

Then, around the turn, Melanie closed in. Something to Talk About held his pace, pushing though third, then second. Then he was neck and neck with Zetwinkler, and the two horses burst from the pack, battling it out.

At three hundred meters, headed for home, Harrison silently pulled for his own horse, but could sense Something to Talk About’s passion.

Sure enough, at two hundred meters, Something to Talk About grabbed a whole new gear. He streaked clear of Zetwinkler, driving his way past the grandstands to the roar of the crowd, through the finish line, claiming the Sandstone Derby championship.

Melanie stood in her stirrups as the horse slowed its pace.

“Too bad,” said Brittany, placing her hand on Harrison’s arm.

He patted her hand, grinning ear to ear. “That is one fine animal.”

She glanced quizzically up at him. “It took second.”

“I meant Something to Talk About.”

“Oh.”

He smiled down at her. “I spoke with Melanie Preston yesterday. This is a big win for her.”

Brittany nodded and gave him a lovely smile. “That’s very generous of you.”

“There’ll be other races,” he told her.

Grandmother lowered her binoculars. “That was magnificent,” she beamed, taking note of Harrison’s hand over Brittany’s, her smile growing even wider.

“Shall we join them in the winner’s circle?” asked Harrison.

“You young people go and enjoy yourselves,” said Grandmother. “I’m a bit too tired for a party tonight.”

Harrison would rather talk with Julia, Melanie and Robbie in person, but he wouldn’t force his grandmother to stay up late. “We can all head back,” he offered.

“Nonsense,” she told him, and her expression gave away her matchmaking ploy.

“Shall I call you a car?” Harrison asked, testing his theory.

“What a lovely idea.”

He extracted his cell phone, dialing his regular car service, happy to go along with his grandmother’s machinations.

After settling her for the ride back to Cadair, Harrison escorted Brittany to the winner’s circle. They arrived just in time to see Something to Talk About draped in flowers and Melanie hoist the trophy.

Beaming with pride, Robbie was at the horse’s head for pictures.

Julia was talking to one of the photographers, and Harrison caught her eye.

She smiled at him, then finished the conversation before approaching.

“Brittany,” Harrison began, “this is Julia Nash.”

Julia gave Brittany a polite greeting.

“Did you see the race?” she asked Harrison.

“My horse came second,” he replied.

“Zetwinkler is Cadair?” She jotted down a note. “I should have paid more attention to the colors. Of course, he’ll be featured in my article. It was a great race,” she breathed.

“That it was,” said Harrison, taking in her sleeveless, little navy dress, her utilitarian shoulder bag and disheveled hair, along with her spiral notepad and the pen in her hand.

She was in stark contrast to Brittany, whose blond hair was immaculate, and whose tiny, beaded evening bag matched her mint-green cocktail dress and the sheer scarf she’d draped across her shoulders. Brittany’s shoes were more stylish, as well. Julia sported lower heels with plain leather straps.

It should have been no contest, but there was something in the animation of Julia’s expression that engaged Harrison.

“Can I get a quote from you for the article?” she asked.

He glanced at Brittany, feeling unaccountably guilty, even though he hadn’t done a thing wrong.

“Perhaps I’ll sit down and have some tea.” Brittany pointed to a group of open-air tables nearby.

“I won’t keep him long,” Julia promised.

“You sure you don’t mind?” he asked Brittany.

“It’s no trouble at all.” She turned away.

Grateful that Brittany was so patient and even tempered, Harrison turned his attention to the interview. “Go ahead,” he told Julia.

She raised her pen. “What did you think of the finish?”

He drew a breath. “It was magnificent. Two up-and-coming stallions battling it out in the homestretch. It doesn’t get more exciting than that.”

“Were you surprised to see Something to Talk About pull away?”

“Something to Talk About is clearly a well-bred, well-trained and enthusiastic racer.” Then he leaned in. “Is that the kind of thing you need?”

She grinned up at him, a glint in her eye that caused a hitch in his chest. It was an annoying and unwanted reaction.

Then again, she was undeniably an attractive woman. And he was a healthy man. He’d get over it. He always did.

“Could you work in something about respecting the Prestons?” she asked.

“Write whatever you want. You can attribute it to me.”

“Thanks.” She jotted down a couple more notes while his cell phone rang.

“Hello?”

“Harrison?”

Harrison recognized the American voice, and touched Julia’s arm to get her attention. “Yes?”

“This is Carter Phillips. I’ve just spoken with the lab tech in Switzerland. Millions to Spare is, was, a half brother to Leopold’s Legacy.”

“Not a half brother to Picture of Perfection?”

“Definitely not.”

Harrison was not only surprised by the information, he was unnerved. This meant there was no way the mistake in Leopold’s Legacy’s breeding was accidental. And the death of Millions to Spare had to be related.

It put the mystery in a whole new realm.

“Whoever secretly sired Leopold’s Legacy also secretly sired your stallion,” said Carter. “DNA doesn’t lie.”

He was right about that. Which left a million unanswered questions.

“Can we keep this under wraps?” asked Harrison, as Julia’s expression grew curious.

“Absolutely,” said Carter Phillips. “We’ll continue our research at this end.”

“And I’ll investigate the poisoning before the trail gets cold.”

“Thanks,” said Carter.

“Thank you,” said Harrison, ending the call.

“What is it?” Julia hissed.

“They’re half brothers,” he told her.

“Millions to Spare and Picture of Perfection?”

“Millions to Spare and Leopold’s Legacy.”

Julia’s eyes widened. “How can that be?”

“I have no idea.”

Julia had to practically run to catch up to Harrison as he crossed the winner’s circle. Her mind was scrambling over the DNA revelation. They had a serious clue here. And she might have a very serious story.

Harrison smiled broadly and held out his hand to Robbie. “Congratulations to Quest Stables.”

“Thank you,” Robbie responded, and Melanie waved to them from atop the horse.

Harrison casually reeled Robbie in, his tone going lower, but Julia could still make out the words. “I don’t mean to sound all cloak-and-dagger,” he said, “but keep smiling and pretend I’m congratulating you.”

Robbie smiled, and Julia smiled along with them.

“Millions to Spare and Leopold’s Legacy have the same sire. I don’t know who’s watching us together, so I’m going to back off now and walk away. You call Carter Phillips for the details.”

Robbie nodded, clapping a hand on Harrison’s shoulder. “Thank you very much,” he said, sincerity in his eyes.

Harrison gave a sharp nod and turned away.

Julia quickly fell into step beside him.

“That goes for you, too,” he growled down at her. “You need to stay away from me and go back to America.”

“I can help you investigate.”

He gave a snort of disbelief. “You couldn’t get a DNA swab without getting thrown in jail.”

While that might be true, she had a right to this story. She wanted to help the Prestons. She wanted to expose Millions to Spare’s killer. “I’ll stay out of your way,” she promised.

“That seems unlikely.”

“I want the story, Harrison.”

He stopped. “Julia, somebody out there was willing to kill my horse over all of this.”

“Maybe I can figure out who?”

“Go back to America.”

“But-”

“Seriously, Julia. Go home. I’ll call you right away if we find anything.” Then he stepped back. “Goodbye.”

A look passed between them, and she could have sworn it was longing. But he quickly turned away.

And then he was gone, and Melanie was beside her.

“How bizarre is that?” asked Melanie.

“Pretty bizarre,” said Julia.

Harrison sat down next to Brittany, and Julia found she couldn’t watch them together.

She forced herself to concentrate on the crowds and the horses and jubilant shouts instead. She nudged Melanie in the shoulder. “You won.”

Melanie beamed. “I did.”

Juggling her bag, her pen and her notebook out of the way, Julia pulled Melanie in for a hug. “You actually won. It was fabulous. And Harrison gave me a quote. And I’m going to file this article. If we’re lucky, some of the daily newspapers will pick it up.”

The smile faded from Melanie’s face. “What do you think is going on? How did a horse end up dead?”

Julia shook her head. “I have no idea. But I’m going to stay behind and find out.”

Melanie’s expression registered surprise. “You’re staying in Dubai?”

“I am. The clues are here.”

Harrison might object, but it wasn’t Harrison’s decision to make.

Melanie hesitated. “Are you sure it’s safe?”

“The only person causing me any grief was Harrison. I think he’s over that now.”

Melanie gave a slow, considered nod. “Then keep the hotel room. Quest will pay.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Robbie and I have to travel with Something to Talk About. You’ll be helping the family out by staying here.”

“I’m also doing it for the story.” Julia wanted to be honest.

“I know you are.” Melanie squeezed Julia’s shoulders. “You deserve the story. Now, I have to head for the barns. The last thing we want to do is mess with Something to Talk About’s schedule.”

“He was a good boy today,” said Julia.

“He was a very good boy. My brother is over the moon.”

The following evening, it was easy for Harrison to see that Brittany was the consummate hostess.

It was four o’clock, and a few of the out-of-town guests were arriving early to the party. She cheerfully and easily greeted princes, generals and captains of industry. She laughed and chatted in several languages, introducing one guest to the other while keeping half an eye on the servers to make sure none of the guests were neglected.

Alex appeared at Harrison’s elbow. “The pipeline meeting is set for five o’clock.”

“Good.” Harrison kept his eyes on Brittany.

Alex was silent for a moment.

“So she’s the one?” he asked.

“She’s the one,” Harrison confirmed, more convinced than ever.

“Hmm.” There was something in Alex’s tone.

“What?”

“I’m not so sure.”

“What’s not to be sure? She’s perfect.”

“You think?”

Now what the hell did that mean?

Alex reacted to Harrison’s astonishment. “There seems to be an edge to her.”

“An edge? To Brittany?”

“Sarcasm, hostility.”

Harrison snorted in disbelief. “What have you been drinking? Look at her.”

“She does present well,” said Alex.

“I do believe you’re jealous.”

“Not.”

“Come to think of it, get your leering eyes off my future fiancée.”

“Believe me, Harrison. I haven’t the slightest attraction to your future fiancée.”

“Now I know you’re lying. Check out her eyes, her hair. Or look at those legs-long, toned, straight.”

“Are you talking about a wife or a broodmare?”

With a start, Harrison realized he had been thinking of her perfection as a mother, rather than imagining those straight legs wrapped around him.

It had to be his innate respect for her. That was the only explanation.

Then his mind involuntarily flashed to Julia. Seeing her in that bathing suit that left so little to the imagination, he could easily picture her legs wrapped around his waist. And when he conjured up that particular image, he didn’t feel respectful at all. He felt…

“Let’s get a drink,” he said to Alex.

Sitting in the back of a taxi as it pulled up to the Jumeirah Beach Hotel, Julia caught sight of Pamjeet the doorman trotting up to meet them.

There was something lurking in his dark eyes, and a funny feeling tripped along her spine.

They’d barely stopped, when he opened the back door, blocking her way out, leaning in to talk to her.

“You must not come in to the hotel,” he said in an earnest low tone, close to her ear.

“What-”

“Go now. The police were here.”

Everything inside Julia stilled as her memory flashed to the dismal jail conditions.

“What do I-”

“Do you have your passport?” He kept his voice low so the driver wouldn’t overhear.