Page 37 of A Reckless Memory

“Shit.” I made sure to sound stunned so he’d keep talking. Ansen was the only one blamed, even though the hired help reported seeing Ansen run out of the living quarters at the same time everyone else did after they heard the shots, and no one had been charged. Something hadn’t sat right with me after I finished reading. Killing horses wasn’t a small offense, and a guy like Gustafson wouldn’t just assume it was Ansen and deal with it by bad-mouthing him everywhere. He either knew who did it and didn’t want to pursue them, or he’d done it himself and collected the insurance money.

“Yes, ma’am. We also found signs of abuse in other animals he handled.”

I laughed. Each allegation should have given me pause. Instead, they sounded absurd. Gustafson’s business didn’t train racehorses. They trained cow horses for competitions. If the stock was how Ansen was making a living, why would he shoot them? Why would he want revenge if he was the one who broke up with the pageant queen? The deaths were awful, but they weren’t at Ansen’s hands.

“Ma’am, I’m serious.”

I chewed the inside of my cheek. I’d had about enough. “What did Ansen do to you, exactly? This feels as much a personal issue as a professional one.”

“Other than sweep my daughter off her feet so she’d ask me to give him a job?” Okay, that tracked, but I’d given Ansen a job while keeping my underwear in place. “She met him while he was at a cutting event, competing for another ranch. By the time she came home, it was, ‘Papa, this guy knows what he’s doing. Papa, this guy is great.’ So, I listened.”

The she in question had been a teen beauty queen and state pageant winner. Even though she wasn’t a Miss Rodeo, she often rode at rodeos and competitions as their special guest, carrying the flag because of who her family was. Not that I’d stalked her social media, thinking she was beautiful in a way I never would be.

“So you gave him a job?” I asked.

“And then the problems started,” he confirmed.

“Which were?”

“A higher rate of injury. Behavior issues. Then those two horses were killed.”

“You checked his references and everything? No other employers had issues?”

“Doesn’t mean anything.”

Sometimes it did. Daddy still gave Ansen glowing recommendations. Half of them were to me. Eliot said he’d heard him once. Daddy would never mention a thing about Ansen breaking his daughter’s heart, but he’d talk for hours about how the guy was a natural with training. I see myself in that kid he’d say about Ansen but none of his sons. I hated that Eliot had overheard. “Can I ask why you’re not pressing charges?”

“Trust me—I would’ve.”

“But?”

“The investigators said there was no evidence, but I lost a lot of goddamn business because of him.”

No evidence. And no history of animal mistreatment. Just a known heartbreaker, which, to be honest, probably wouldn’t have stopped Stephanie Jane. “If I may pry, what happened between Ansen and your daughter?”

“He strung her along. When I said I wasn’t passing GPH to him, but he could purchase it when I retired, he bailed on her.”

Tempting to believe, given my background. But would he dump her and continue working there? Again, didn’t make sense. Ansen had proven more likely to leave a job than stay. “You have security cameras, right?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Then why isn’t Ansen in jail or out on bond? You said yourself there’s no evidence he was involved.”

“Honey, it sounds like you don’t believe me.”

“Humor me, Gussy.”

A grunt sounded, and I wasn’t sure he’d explain. “The horses died after the breakup.”

“And the injuries?”

“After the breakup,” he admitted with a growl.

I glanced in the rearview mirror. Yup. Looked as disbelieving as I felt. I used to be naive and sweet, but getting my heart shattered by Ansen had hardened me. Odd I’d use those shards to deal with this phone call. “So, with no evidence, no clear link of Ansen’s guilt, you’ve been ruining his job opportunities since he broke up with your daughter—the same girl you accused him of using to marry into your little equine empire? Sounds like a helluva power trip.”

“Listen, honey—”

“No, Gussy, it’s your turn to listen. While normally I might appreciate the heads-up, I can’t in good conscience buy one ounce of this uncured manure you’re selling me. You might be sitting there thinking I’ve been dickmatized by the guy, and once that was true, but when it comes to horses, he’s one of the best.”

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