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Footsteps pounded through the hallway, and Poole stood aside as Trenton stormed into the study. “We need to talk. Now.”
“Where’s Ariana?”
“Right here,” she replied, walking into the room, her face drawn with worry. “Trenton, I let Mrs. Hopkins take Alexander upstairs to bed. I didn’t want to, but he’s half asleep. The instant we’re finished speaking with Dustin, I’m going up there.”
“What the hell is going on?” Dustin demanded as Poole left the room, closing the door in his wake.
“You tell us.” Trenton glared at his brother, a muscle working furiously in his jaw. “And don’t even think of putting me off this time. God damn it, this is my son we’re talking about.”
Dustin sucked in his breath. “Has someone tried to harm Alexander?”
“Not yet. But someone sure as hell intends to.” Reaching into his pocket, Trenton extracted a folded sheet. “This arrived at Broddington not two hours ago. Read it.”
With a sinking heart, Dustin took the paper.
Broddington:
Tell your brother to stop poking where he doesn’t belong.
If he doesn’t, you can bid your son good-bye.
“Dammit.” Dustin scanned the page twice, then lowered it to his desk. “I never believed they’d actually involve Alexander in this. I thought they were bluffing.”
“For the last time I’m asking, what are you involved in that’s endangering my son?” Trenton slammed his fist on the edge of Dustin’s desk. “Last time we spoke you told me two men had invaded Tyreham, assaulted you and threatened Alexander’s well-being if you were to hire Nick Aldridge—who, the newspapers claim, is injured and recuperating in Scotland. When I pressed you for details, you said only that you were in the process of resolving the whole sordid matter. You refused to say more. You also assured me that Alexander would remain unharmed. Well, that no longer appears to be the case. Therefore, your silence is no longer acceptable.”
“No, it’s not.” Dustin stared at the note, weighing his words and his loyalties.
“Dustin,” Ariana said softly. “I realize we’re putting you in a difficult position. But we have no choice. Alexander is our son. He means the world to us. If anything were to happen to him—” Her voice broke.
“Don’t, misty angel,” Trenton murmured, enfolding her against him. “No one’s going to harm Alexander. I won’t allow it.”
“Nor will I.” Dustin’s heart lurched at their pain. “I’m going to be as honest with you as I can—tonight. I hope whatever particulars I omit now can be filled in tomorrow.” After I’ve gotten permission from Nicole and her father, he added silently. “But that’s neither here nor there, because what I’m about to relay will cover everything pertaining to Alexander.” He glanced at Trenton. “I assume you’ve filled Ariana in?”
“On what? I’ve just specified every bloody detail I’m privy to. But if you mean, did I describe your original telegram and our first conversation, the answer is yes. This situation has far surpassed the point where I can protect Ariana from the truth.”
“I agree.” Dustin looked from Ariana to Trenton. “You can’t repeat a word of what I’m about to reveal. People’s lives depend on it.” He waited for their nods. “Trent, when you came to Tyreham last week, you asked if I knew more about Nick Aldridge’s disappearance than I was willing to say. The answer is, yes. Stoddard, my new jockey, is Aldridge’s protégé. He saw my ad in the personals and responded to it. When I hired him, he told me the real reason behind Aldridge’s disappearance.”
“So I was right, Al
dridge wasn’t injured.”
“No, he wasn’t—yet, but he was about to be.” Without pause, Dustin relayed the specifics behind Nick’s disappearance, elaborating on Sullivan’s beating, the list of dishonest jockeys Stoddard had provided, and Dustin’s own decision to hire Saxon and travel to Newmarket to grill the disreputable jockeys—everything but his direct contact with Nick and Stoddard’s true identity.
“Has Stoddard heard from Aldridge?” Trenton cut in. “Does he know his whereabouts?”
Dustin’s jaw set. “That’s one of the questions I can’t answer until tomorrow.”
“Hell, you know where Aldridge is.” Trenton dragged a hand through his hair. “Dustin, these men aren’t playing. You’re going to get yourself killed.”
“No, Trent, I’m not. Nor will those bastards harm one hair on my nephew’s head. I might not have anticipated this note you received, but I am prepared to deal with it. Now, calm down and hear me out.”
“Go ahead.”
Dustin pointed at the note. “This tells me that whoever is overseeing this contemptible scheme obviously learned of my Newmarket inquiries and panicked. I expected just such a reaction. In fact, I counted on it. My only miscalculation was in assuming their retaliation would be aimed solely at me.” A scowl. “I should have guessed they’d involve Alexander. Whoever is running this operation evidently knows enough about me to recognize that my family is my Achilles’ heel.” Dustin raised his head, an unwavering look in his eyes. “However, I still believe, as I originally did, that they’ll strike directly. Mark my words, those two hoodlums will be back at Tyreham any day now to beat me into silence. After which, Saxon will follow them to whoever it is they report to and expose him.”
“What do you mean ‘after which’?” Ariana interrupted. “Are you saving you intend to let those men beat you?”
Dustin smiled faintly, touched by Ariana’s unwavering softheartedness, despite her alarm over Alexander’s safety. “Don’t worry about me,” he assured her. “I’m very resilient. I doubt they’ll inflict too much damage. If things get out of hand, I’ll yell for help. As for protecting Alexander …”
