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“It’s hard to explain,” Nancy said softly. “It just seemed that the longer we lived together, the less we knew each other or cared. . . .”
“That happens,” Tiffany said. Hadn’t she felt the same doubts when Ellery was alive? Hadn’t there always been a distance she was unable to bridge?
“Yeah, well . . .” Nancy stubbed out her cigarette. “As I said, I think it’s for the best. Oh, God, look at the time! I’ve got to get out of here.”
Tiffany watched as Nancy gathered her things, and then she walked her friend to the car. “I was serious when I told you to bring the kids out for a weekend. Just give me a call.”
“You don’t know what you’re asking for.”
Tiffany laughed. “Sure I do. It’ll be fun. Come on, Nance, those girls could use a little fresh country air, and they’d love being around the horses.”
Nancy eyed the rolling hills of the farm wistfully. “Be careful, Tiff, or I just might take you up on your offer.”
“I’m counting on it.”
Nancy’s car was parked in the shade of a tall maple tree near the back of the house. When they reached the car, Nancy turned and faced Tiffany. “This has been great,” she said. “The best interview I’ve done in years.”
“Do you do many stories about Thoroughbreds?” Tiffany asked.
“Some—mainly from the woman’s angle,” Nancy replied. “Most of the time I write human interest stories—again, from the woman’s perspective. The reason I got this assignment is that I read the article in theClarionand stormed into my editor’s office, insisting that since I knew you, I would be the logical person to write a more in-depth article for theTimes. He really couldn’t argue too much, since I used to cover all the local and national races.” Her hazel eyes saddened a little. “I think you, and not your horse, were the victim of bad press, my friend.”
Tiffany shrugged, but smiled. “Maybe.” A question formed in her mind, and she had to ask. “When you were working on the races, did you ever hear of a stallion named King’s Ransom?”
“Sure. But he wasn’t much of a champion, not until recently. From what I understand his services as a stud are the most sought-after in Ireland.”
“Who owns him?”
Nancy smiled. “That’s the interesting part. It’s kind of a mystery. He’s syndicated of course, but the largest percentage of the stallion is owned by Emerald Enterprises.” Tiffany’s heart felt as if it had turned to stone.Zane had been telling the truth!
“Which is?”
“A holding company of sorts,” Nancy replied.
“I see,” Tiffany said, her heartbeat quickening. “What about a man by the name of Zane Sheridan?” she asked.
Nancy was about to get into the car but paused. “Now there’s an interesting man.”
“Oh?” Tiffany cocked her head to the side and the smile on her lips slowly faded. “Do you think he’s somehow involved with Emerald Enterprises?”
“I don’t really know, but I doubt it. He owns a farm near the one owned by Emerald Enterprises. Why are you so interested?”
“I’m not . . . not really.” Tiffany lied in ineffectual nonchalance. “He was here a couple of days ago, looking at some horses.”
“He’s a bit of a mystery,” Nancy said. She leaned against the car door and stared up at the blue sky as she tried to remember everything she could about the breeder from Ireland. “He’s a tough guy, from what I hear. Ruthless in business. He grew up on the streets of Dublin. Had several scrapes with the law and ended up working as a stable boy at an Irish Thoroughbred farm in the country. The owner of that particular farm took a liking to him, sent him to school, and once educated, Sheridan made a small fortune breeding horses.” She sighed as she tried to remember the fuzzy details of a scandal that had occurred in the past.
“And then, well, it’s kind of foggy, but from what I remember, he was in some sort of trouble again. A scandal, and he lost his fortune and his wife. I can’t remember all the details right now.”
The news hit Tiffany like a bolt of lightning. Though stunned, she managed somehow to ask, “His wife is dead?”
“No—she ran off with this guy named . . . God, what was it? Rivers, I think. Ethan Rivers, an American.... Like I said, it’s kind of a mystery. No one really knows what happened to this Rivers character or Sheridan’s wife.”
The thought of Zane being married did strange things to Tiffany. “How long ago was this?” she asked.
“Geez, what was it? Five years, maybe more like seven, I’m really not sure.” She pursed her lips as she thought and then, when she checked her watch, nearly jumped out of her skin. “Look, I’ve got to go. Deadlines, you know. I’ll call you soon.”
“Good. I’d like that.”
Nancy got into her car and settled behind the wheel. The engine started, and Nancy rolled down the window. “The article on the farm should be in the paper no later than Thursday. I’ll send you a copy.” With a brilliant smile, she fingered a wave at Tiffany and forced the little car into gear.
