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Tiffany closed her eyes against the truth. “Why?”
“Because she’s the only one who can clear up what happened to Devil’s Gambit . . . and Ellery.”
“Ellery is dead,” Tiffany murmured, hugging her knees to her and setting her chin on them.
“How do you know?”
“I asked Dustin.”
“He wouldn’t tell you the truth—”
“Dustin cares about me, Zane. He admitted some pretty horrible things, such as conning other owners at the yearling sales in Europe. He said that Ellery would pose as another person, someone named Ethan Rivers.”
“Did he explain about Devil’s Gambit?”
“No.”
“But?” he coaxed.
“From his reaction, I’d have to guess that your assumption about Devil’s Gambit is correct. He wouldn’t admit that Devil’s Gambit was alive, but it was fairly obvious when I mentioned King’s Ransom and Devil’s Gambit in the same breath that something wasn’t right.”
“You should be more careful around him,” Zane warned. “He’s dangerous, and he has a lot to lose if he’s uncovered.”
“I’m not sure that he’s the man in charge.”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t know, just a feeling I got that there was someone else pulling his strings.”
“I don’t know who it would be.”
“Neither do I.”
“That’s why I have to find Stasia,” Zane said. “She might be able to help us.”
“I doubt it.”
Zane lifted his head and his sharp eyes bored into Tiffany. “You knew her?” he guessed incredulously.
Tiffany nodded, remembering Stasia’s long, dark hair, even features and seductive dark eyes. Stasia’s sultry beauty was enough to capture any man, including Zane. “She was here on the farm with Ellery when I was in college. Later, once I had returned, my father died and Ellery asked me to marry him.”
“What happened to Stasia?”
“I don’t know. Ellery wouldn’t talk about it. The day after he asked me to marry him, she moved out. I never saw her again, but I’m sure that she despises me.”
“Probably,” he said with a snort. “Stasia knows how to carry a grudge.” He saw the unasked questions in Tiffany’s wide eyes and began to explain about a time in his life he would rather have forgotten.
“When I met Stasia, she was barely eighteen. She was beautiful and anxious to get out of a bad home situation. I thought at the time that I was in love with her, and we got married. I was just starting then, trying to set up a successful farm of my own. Fortunately, I had a few decent breaks. I was lucky and after a few years, I . . . we, Stasia and I, owned a small farm about thirty miles from Dublin. It was a beautiful place,” he said, smiling slightly at the fond memories, “thick green grass, stone fences twined with bracken, the rolling Irish countryside . . . a perfect place for breeding Thoroughbreds. That’s when I started breeding successfully. And how I met Ethan Rivers.”
“Ellery,” Tiffany whispered.
Zane’s smile had left his face and his rugged features pulled into a dark scowl. “One and the same. It happened about six years ago. Ethan was looking for some yearlings and came out to the farm. Later that night we began drinking and playing poker with another man from America who was supposedly interested in some of my horses.”
“Dustin,” Tiffany guessed, not daring to breathe.
“Right again. Anyway, on that night, Dustin folded early, claimed the stakes were too high for him. But I kept on drinking and playing, urged on by my lovely wife.”
“Oh, no—”
