Page 12 of My Trojan Horse Majesty

“I’m just trying to remember where I might have put them.” He clears his throat. “Remember about six or eight weeks ago? There was that woman who came in with her chestnut stallion, and we were going to put him down?”

“Right,” Izzy says.

“But then I convinced her to sell him to me,” he says. “And I took him to your stepdad for some training.”

She huffs. “Right.”

“I think the old woman left the papers with me along with all her other paperwork when she thought we were going to put him down, but I haven’t transferred the horse into my name yet. I was waiting until she’d be less upset to sign the transfer.”

“What was her name?” Izzy asks. “I’ll need to find her file.”

“Right.” He inhales and exhales slowly. “Hattie? Maddie? Maybe Harriet something?”

“Alright, well, at least that gives me a start.” She chuckles again. “But how can I look through your files?”

He’s quiet for a moment. “My password’s an important date to you.”

“Good to know,” she says.

“You know, if you’re thinking of selling my stallion, I could do the paperwork myself after I get out. A beautiful thoroughbred stallion like that would be a great fit for Anselm Müller. He has more money than sense, so a recommendation from me for a good stallion would be really appreciated. He even told me that not long ago.”

Izzy nods slowly. “If you were out, you’d email him yourself.”

“Exactly,” Tim says. “I’d email himmyself.”

So clearly, he wants her to fake my papers and sell me to the German man. I’m so caught up in interpreting what they’re saying that it takes me a moment to realize the important part of this conversation.

Izzy’s planning tosellme.

Since I pass out when she moves more than a hundred yards away, that’s going to be a real problem.

Chapter5

Izzy

“I’m glad you could call,” I say. “I’ve missed hearing your voice.”

“Same,” Tim says. “But for now, I need you to keep your eye on the prize. If this horse doesn’t sell for much, you could sell your trailer. Your truck. Whatever. I’ll buy you a new one once this is all over, and you can use my truck for now.”

His truck’s worth way more than mine, and I wonder for a moment why he’s not telling me to sell that. “I can’t sell yours, since it’s not in my name,” I say, “I guess that makes sense.”

“Or, if none of that works, you can ask your parents for tuition money, right? You didn’t tell them that you didn’t get in to vet school yet, did you?”

That hurts. “No, not yet.”

“Good,” he says. “They’ve always been great at sending you money for school, so just tell them you need money for that. Later, after we get engaged, you can tell them you’ve changed your mind. I’ll have paid you back, and you can return the money to them.”

“I guess.” It does make sense, but it feels. . .I don’t know. It makes me feel super icky.

“I have to go,” he says. “I’m sorry. I’ll try and call again as soon as I can.”

“Alright.” I can’t help feeling deflated when he hangs up, and not only because I can’t talk to him anymore. It felt like he only really called to try and push me about getting his bail money. He didn’t say he missed me. He didn’t say anything nice at all. I do get it. He’s probably super stressed, and we’re on a recorded line, after all.

At least he gave me an idea for where to get papers and a possible buyer for Drago. . .if I can get him into some kind of suitable form to sell. I startle a bit, realizing that I’ve been standing in the stallion paddock this whole time, right in front of Drago.

Unlike a usual horse, he’s not exploring the perimeter of the paddock or even trotting around the center. He’s completely ignored the two horses calling to him on the far end of the space, their faces shoved against the fence. Bizarrely, he’s standing right beside me, staring for all the world like he was listening in on my phone conversation, which is nuts. Horses obviously don’t do that, especially the ones who were just trying to audition for a spot in the Kentucky Derby while running away from me.

I start to sneak past him, headed for the gate, but he follows me.

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