HORSE SENSE
~*~
The second novel in
The Dunbarton Mysteries Series
The Dunbarton Mysteries Series
"The colt is grey!" Words that will lead Chris and Alicia Mallory once again into mystery and murder.
“What exactly did she say?” Chris asked, for the umpteenth time.
“I told you. She said, ‘The colt is grey.’”
Chris shook his head in exasperation. “Is that code for something?”
“I haven’t a clue.”
“Well, then, what does it mean?”
“It means, as the great Sherlock Holmes would say, ‘the game’s afoot, my dear Watson’!” she replied, and then gave him the brilliant smile that always meant trouble!
When Olympic Dressage Rider Alex Craig discovers that she has been the victim of fraud and theft she calls on her best friends, Alicia and Chris Mallory, to discover who has stolen her dream of a foal by the world’s top dressage stallion. Their quest to discover what happened to the $20,000 straw of frozen semen takes them into the world of Olympic level dressage and international horse breeding. When people start dying, Chris and Alicia must race to unmask the murderer before he or she strikes again.
This is the second in the Dunbarton Series of mysteries that began with CATNIP. It is published by Red Cottage Books and available on Amazon.
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00MVH6PTU
BOOK TRAILER https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=70E1mKS0wbo
AN EXCERPT
I will not change my horse with any that treads...
When I bestride him, I soar, I am a hawk:
He trots the air; the earth sings when he touches it...
William Shakespeare
King Henry V, Act 3
If wishes were horses, beggars would ride.
16th century English Proverb
HORSE SENSE
Prologue
The voice on the phone said, “Twenty thousand.”
“I’ve told you before, I can’t do it. He’s too high profile.”
“You’ve done it before and no one has suspected. Twenty-two thousand.”
“This is different.”
“No, it isn’t. Twenty-four thousand.”
“I’d get caught. I can’t risk it!”
“Twenty-five thousand.”
There was a pause followed by resigned sigh, “All right. Twenty-five thousand.”
Chapter 1
One year later.
He took the front steps of the old stone house two at a time, unlocked the door and walked in. Throwing the mail and his keys on the table and hanging his jacket on the hook by the door, he went into the living room. It had been a long day and he wanted to relax with a drink.
A soft, sibilant sound, like the warning hiss of a snake, alerted him and he turned just in time to block the blow that was aimed at him. He leaped sideways but not quickly enough. A flying sideways kick caught him squarely in the solar plexus and he went down hard. As he lay gasping for breath on the floor, his assailant loomed over him.
“You missed class,” his wife said, bending down and grinning. “That was the new move we learned.” She offered him a hand to pull him up.
“Sorry. The meeting went late. I’ll call and arrange a make-up. You know, Ali, keep that up and one day you’re going to give me a heart attack.” Chris collapsed on the couch, breathing heavily. She laughed and sat down beside him. After narrowly avoiding death at the hands of an axe-wielding murderer the year before, Alicia had signed them up for Tae Kwon Do classes and had discovered an unsuspected talent.
“I picked up the mail. There’s a parcel for you from Alex.”
Her face lit up. “I’ll bet it’s the DVD of her ride at the Olympics!” She ran to open it. “Yes, that’s what it is. We can watch it right after dinner. I’ll check on the macaroni and make the salad. You set the table.” The vision of a tall, cold beer vanished as he peeled himself off the sofa to find plates and cutlery.
Alex was Alicia’s best friend. They had met in college and had been inseparable until graduation had taken Alicia home to Dunbarton and Alex to Germany for training in the equestrian sport of dressage.
For the non-horsey, dressage is a combination of gymnastics and ballet on horse-back. The horse is trained to listen to the softest of aids which guide him through patterns of movement that resemble a dance routine. It takes years of training for both the horse and the rider to reach the pinnacle of that sport which is the Grand Prix and only the very best riders and most dynamic, extravagantly moving horses achieve the ultimate glory and honour of riding at the Olympics.
Alex had done just that a few months previous and had sent Alicia a DVD of her rides. She had done very well, scoring in the mid 70 % range in the Grand Prix and low 80’s in her Freestyle to music, also known as the Kur ,which, while not a personal best, was quite remarkable at that level of competition and had seen her finish in the top ten individually which helped put the Canadian team in fourth place over-all, just out of the medals.
Following a quick meal, Chris and Alicia put on the DVD and curled up on the sofa to watch. Alicia opted to go straight to the Freestyle.
The dressage ring was surrounded by banks of flowers in the centre of the enormous Olympic stadium. It was night-time but the lighting made it seem like day, clearly illuminating the thousands of people that filled the stands. A gigantic screen made viewing the rides as intimate for the back rows as the front. A similar screen was positioned outside the stadium for over-flow crowds who had not been able to purchase tickets to the sold-out event.
Alex rode into the stadium just as the previous rider was leaving amidst ecstatic cheering for a clearly exceptional performance. After a brief minute’s ride around the outside of the rectangular ring, the judges gave the signal that she had one minute to begin. Riding down the long side, she halted and signalled for her music to begin. She then entered the ring, halted once more, lowered her right hand to her side and bowed her head to salute the main judge in the booth at the far end. Years of dedicated preparation had led her to this moment. The music started again and the ride of her life began.
The chestnut horse appeared to float soundlessly and effortlessly across the ring to the lilting strains of Tschaikovsky’s ‘Sleeping Beauty Waltz’. (The only reason Chris knew it was the ‘Sleeping Beauty’ was because Walt Disney had used it as the love theme in his film of the same name that he had seen as a child.) The slender young woman on its back might have been just along for the ride, their bodies merging and only the slightest of movements of leg, hand and seat showing that she was more than just a passenger.
“Aren’t they wonderful!” his wife breathed, a little enviously, he thought.
The horse on the video seemed to be dancing, not an activity he had previously associated with the large, four-footed, half-ton animals. The stadium audience broke into frenzied applause and cheering as the pair finally halted and the rider saluted the judge once more. The TV screen went black.
Available on Amazon
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B00MVH6PTU
“What exactly did she say?” Chris asked, for the umpteenth time.
“I told you. She said, ‘The colt is grey.’”
Chris shook his head in exasperation. “Is that code for something?”
“I haven’t a clue.”
“Well, then, what does it mean?”
“It means, as the great Sherlock Holmes would say, ‘the game’s afoot, my dear Watson’!” she replied, and then gave him the brilliant smile that always meant trouble!
When Olympic Dressage Rider Alex Craig discovers that she has been the victim of fraud and theft she calls on her best friends, Alicia and Chris Mallory, to discover who has stolen her dream of a foal by the world’s top dressage stallion. Their quest to discover what happened to the $20,000 straw of frozen semen takes them into the world of Olympic level dressage and international horse breeding. When people start dying, Chris and Alicia must race to unmask the murderer before he or she strikes again.
This is the second in the Dunbarton Series of mysteries that began with CATNIP. It is published by Red Cottage Books and available on Amazon.
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00MVH6PTU
BOOK TRAILER https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=70E1mKS0wbo
AN EXCERPT
I will not change my horse with any that treads...
When I bestride him, I soar, I am a hawk:
He trots the air; the earth sings when he touches it...
William Shakespeare
King Henry V, Act 3
If wishes were horses, beggars would ride.
16th century English Proverb
HORSE SENSE
Prologue
The voice on the phone said, “Twenty thousand.”
“I’ve told you before, I can’t do it. He’s too high profile.”
“You’ve done it before and no one has suspected. Twenty-two thousand.”
“This is different.”
“No, it isn’t. Twenty-four thousand.”
“I’d get caught. I can’t risk it!”
“Twenty-five thousand.”
There was a pause followed by resigned sigh, “All right. Twenty-five thousand.”
Chapter 1
One year later.
He took the front steps of the old stone house two at a time, unlocked the door and walked in. Throwing the mail and his keys on the table and hanging his jacket on the hook by the door, he went into the living room. It had been a long day and he wanted to relax with a drink.
A soft, sibilant sound, like the warning hiss of a snake, alerted him and he turned just in time to block the blow that was aimed at him. He leaped sideways but not quickly enough. A flying sideways kick caught him squarely in the solar plexus and he went down hard. As he lay gasping for breath on the floor, his assailant loomed over him.
“You missed class,” his wife said, bending down and grinning. “That was the new move we learned.” She offered him a hand to pull him up.
“Sorry. The meeting went late. I’ll call and arrange a make-up. You know, Ali, keep that up and one day you’re going to give me a heart attack.” Chris collapsed on the couch, breathing heavily. She laughed and sat down beside him. After narrowly avoiding death at the hands of an axe-wielding murderer the year before, Alicia had signed them up for Tae Kwon Do classes and had discovered an unsuspected talent.
“I picked up the mail. There’s a parcel for you from Alex.”
Her face lit up. “I’ll bet it’s the DVD of her ride at the Olympics!” She ran to open it. “Yes, that’s what it is. We can watch it right after dinner. I’ll check on the macaroni and make the salad. You set the table.” The vision of a tall, cold beer vanished as he peeled himself off the sofa to find plates and cutlery.
Alex was Alicia’s best friend. They had met in college and had been inseparable until graduation had taken Alicia home to Dunbarton and Alex to Germany for training in the equestrian sport of dressage.
For the non-horsey, dressage is a combination of gymnastics and ballet on horse-back. The horse is trained to listen to the softest of aids which guide him through patterns of movement that resemble a dance routine. It takes years of training for both the horse and the rider to reach the pinnacle of that sport which is the Grand Prix and only the very best riders and most dynamic, extravagantly moving horses achieve the ultimate glory and honour of riding at the Olympics.
Alex had done just that a few months previous and had sent Alicia a DVD of her rides. She had done very well, scoring in the mid 70 % range in the Grand Prix and low 80’s in her Freestyle to music, also known as the Kur ,which, while not a personal best, was quite remarkable at that level of competition and had seen her finish in the top ten individually which helped put the Canadian team in fourth place over-all, just out of the medals.
Following a quick meal, Chris and Alicia put on the DVD and curled up on the sofa to watch. Alicia opted to go straight to the Freestyle.
The dressage ring was surrounded by banks of flowers in the centre of the enormous Olympic stadium. It was night-time but the lighting made it seem like day, clearly illuminating the thousands of people that filled the stands. A gigantic screen made viewing the rides as intimate for the back rows as the front. A similar screen was positioned outside the stadium for over-flow crowds who had not been able to purchase tickets to the sold-out event.
Alex rode into the stadium just as the previous rider was leaving amidst ecstatic cheering for a clearly exceptional performance. After a brief minute’s ride around the outside of the rectangular ring, the judges gave the signal that she had one minute to begin. Riding down the long side, she halted and signalled for her music to begin. She then entered the ring, halted once more, lowered her right hand to her side and bowed her head to salute the main judge in the booth at the far end. Years of dedicated preparation had led her to this moment. The music started again and the ride of her life began.
The chestnut horse appeared to float soundlessly and effortlessly across the ring to the lilting strains of Tschaikovsky’s ‘Sleeping Beauty Waltz’. (The only reason Chris knew it was the ‘Sleeping Beauty’ was because Walt Disney had used it as the love theme in his film of the same name that he had seen as a child.) The slender young woman on its back might have been just along for the ride, their bodies merging and only the slightest of movements of leg, hand and seat showing that she was more than just a passenger.
“Aren’t they wonderful!” his wife breathed, a little enviously, he thought.
The horse on the video seemed to be dancing, not an activity he had previously associated with the large, four-footed, half-ton animals. The stadium audience broke into frenzied applause and cheering as the pair finally halted and the rider saluted the judge once more. The TV screen went black.
Available on Amazon
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B00MVH6PTU