A Crazy Little Thing Called Death Read Online Free PDF Page B

among the horsey set, barked at me from the open window of a truck. Nearby, a couple of female grooms—two sweaty, twentyish girls—sat in camp chairs swigging from plastic water bottles, their work finished for the moment. They wore their breeches and boots and dirty sweatshirts comfortably, without affectation.
    Behind another trailer, a heavyset older woman in a saggy turtleneck sweater, breeches and Hermès riding boots might have been a billionaire, but today she looked happy to be among her horses. Despite her years, she wielded a shovel full of manure with ease.
    At the last vehicle—Emma’s rattletrap pickup and her rusty trailer—the crowd of her young students clustered around a placid Welsh pony. They were combing his tail, brushing his buckskin coat and braiding his mane while one child held his bridle and petted his nose. I didn’t see Lucy among them.
    But Emma poked her head out of the trailer, caught my eye and pointed.
    At the bottom of the field, the estate’s landscape disintegrated into a woodsy wilderness that was even muddier than the grass above. I slogged through it, glad to have my boots, but already feeling the cold through the rubber.
    I came to the stream that splashed over a jumble of rocks. Sure enough, Lucy was there, poking her foil into the water.
    Standing over her, holding one of Lucy’s hands to prevent her from falling, was Michael.
    As I approached, I heard Lucy say to him, “I don’t like toads. The twins keep them in jars, and I hate the way they look. All dead and yucky.”
    Michael murmured something that made Lucy laugh. Then she turned and saw me.
    “I’m okay,” she called. “I’m with Mick.”
    “She’s with me,” Michael said.
    The playful child with blond curls and the pink tutu made a picture standing beside him—a tall and hulking man with a face better suited for a dockyard than a polo match. Neither one of them belonged at today’s posh event. Lucy was a kindergarten delinquent, and Michael had probably been one, too. Now he had more sex appeal than six Main Line lacrosse players. His shoulders were delicious, and he had a walk that was both tight and slouchy and often made me think I should wash out my brain with a bar of soap.
    His eyes were very blue and discerning beneath their lazy lids, and he saw something in my face that made his interest sharpen.
    Then I saw the stitches in his chin, and my heart gave a thump.
    “Michael, what happened? You’re hurt!”
    “Stupid accident,” he said, still preventing Lucy from falling as she tilted insistently into the stream. He leaned my way with amusement in his eyes. “Be gentle with me.”
    I wrapped one arm around him and instinctively lifted my other hand to touch the wound. It was already swollen and looked angry. “What kind of accident? When?”
    Michael avoided my fingertips with a twist of his head. “This morning, driving into town. A tire blew, and I went into a ditch.” He shrugged. “No big deal.”
    “I think he hit a porcupine,” Lucy volunteered. She pointed her weapon at his chin. “A doctor sewed his skin with a needle. I bet it hurt.”
    “It hurt like hell, in fact. And it’s not going to do my pretty face any favors.”
    “Is the rest of you okay? No broken bones?”
    “I only hit my head, which didn’t damage anything important.” He smiled. “Forget about it. Lucy wants to see the horses.”
    Michael had never come to any of the parties I covered. That he had chosen today made me suddenly uneasy. “Did you come to see the horses, too? Or is something wrong?”
    “I came to see you. To bring you your new cell phone.”
    He handed the tiny telephone over, and I blushed. “I forgot it again. I’m sorry.”
    “You don’t really want to carry it, do you?”
    “Yes, of course. Well, I know you think it’s important.”
    “Think of it as the quickest way to call 911 when your sisters get into trouble.”
    “I just can’t get the hang of getting a new one every few