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datatime: 2022-12-03 06:34:16 Author:OnfjbfnY

'I wasn't that close,' I told her.

'Well, Kenny had a foal named Windsong,' Foster said. 'The mother, Wind, ran the Derby and came in last, but just being in it was enough. Plus the father had won a few big stake races. So Windsong was probably the most valuable horse in Kenny's stables.'

'I'd like to know more about the stable hand,' Marino said, taking notes.

'It may be that one horse survived the fire,' I told her.

Sparkes picked up speed and thundered toward us, and the guinea hens lifted up their feathery skirts to hurry out of the way.

'No,' Foster said.

'I don't know. I couldn't tell the gender.'

'A lovely old guy with a very bad heart,' she said.

'What about a star-strip-snip?' she asked, referring to the white stripe on the horse's forehead.

'It may be that one horse survived the fire,' I told her.

'Is there someplace we can talk to him?' I asked Foster.

'And he has no stable hand?' I asked.

'And he has no stable hand?' I asked.

We picked plastic chairs and sat with our backs to the arena, overlooking woods.

Marino was not particularly interested in the surviving horse, and as we entered the indoor ring, we were greeted by the sound of hooves and the clucking of bantam roosters and guinea hens that wandered about freely. Marino coughed and squinted because red dust was thick in the air, kicked up by the cantering of a chestnut Morgan mare. Horses in their stalls neighed and whinnied as horse and rider went by, and although I recognized Kenneth Sparkes in his English saddle, I had never seen him in dirty denim and boots. He was an excellent equestrian, and when he met my eyes as he went by, .he showed no sign of recognition or relief. I knew right then he did not want us here.

'It's a foal, I guess. Black,' I went on.

'Is there someplace we can talk to him?' I asked Foster.

'A filly or a colt?' she asked.

'I don't know. I couldn't tell the gender.'

'There are chairs outside.' She pointed. 'Or you can use my office.'

'Well, Windsong may have gotten out somehow,' I said again. 'And was spared.'

'A lovely old guy with a very bad heart,' she said.

'A lovely old guy with a very bad heart,' she said.

'Well, Kenny had a foal named Windsong,' Foster said. 'The mother, Wind, ran the Derby and came in last, but just being in it was enough. Plus the father had won a few big stake races. So Windsong was probably the most valuable horse in Kenny's stables.'

'I don't know. I couldn't tell the gender.'

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