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the-real-tc · 2 years

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Bad Business Ch. 7: Every Breath You Take

Chapter 7

Every Breath You Take

Shooting Victim Identified

Hudson Times—Print Version

May 3, 2019

Nadir Jutley

Hudson Police have released the identity of the motorist shot yesterday on Range Road 292. 53-year-old Lisa Stillman was found unconscious in her SUV by Hudson veterinarians, Drs. Scott Cardinal and Ty Borden at approximately 12:15 p.m., local time.

Stillman was found to be suffering from two gunshot wounds. She was transported by ambulance to the South Calgary Health Campus where she underwent emergency surgery and is currently listed in critical but stable condition.

Police are asking for the public's assistance in the matter. Anyone who may have witnessed anything suspicious on the road at the time of the shooting is asked to call local police or the RCMP. In particular, authorities hope to speak with an individual riding a motorcycle who may have passed Stillman and might be able to provide further details. Thus far, police have no motive or suspects in the attack.

Hudson Chief of Police James Parker expressed his concern for Stillman, and for the safety of citizens of the town. However, he stressed there is no reason to believe there is any danger to the public at large.

Lisa Stillman is the owner of Fairfield Stables, a renowned thoroughbred racehorse breeding facility in Hudson that was established in 1951 by her late father, Matthew Stillman.

• Email: nadir_jutley

The ringing telephone cut through the silence that Friday morning. Jack pulled himself from the kitchen table. The call display indicated it was from the hospital, causing his heart to jump.

"Hello?" he answered after picking up the receiver. "Yes, this is Jack Bartlett."

He listened while the voice on the other line spoke a few words. Amy and Tim watched him carefully, both on edge.

"Thank you," Jack said once he heard everything the other party had to say. "Good-bye."

"Grandpa?" Amy asked, trying to read his expression. "Is everything okay?"

"Yes," Jack answered, his heart exulting and mind spinning with the information he had been longing to hear. "Lisa's awake. She's regained consciousness."

"Oh, Grandpa, that's great news! I'm so happy!" Amy exclaimed. She wrapped her arms around him in happy relief.

"Great news, Jack," Tim said, slapping Jack on the back.

"I've got to get up there," Jack said.

"Of course. I'll take you," Amy said. "Let me just get Lyndy ready. You're still okay to get Lou from the airport, right, Dad?"

"Yeah, sure," Tim said. "You two go on. Tell Lisa I'm happy she's doing better, Jack. God knows what an insufferable bastard you would become if she didn't make it."

Jack just shook his head while a lopsided smile tugged at his mouth. "Shut up, you idiot," he said.

"Just sayin'," Tim quipped, always needing to have the last word.

***

Upon arriving at the hospital, Jack hurriedly returned to the ICU floor. The despair he had felt throughout the sleepless night before had lifted completely. He approached the nurse's desk expectantly. "I'm Jack Bartlett," he announced. "My wife was admitted yesterday. Lisa Stillman."

This nurse, different from the one yesterday, did not have to consult her records.

"Ms. Stillman has been moved from the ICU to another room, Mr. Bartlett."

"You mean she's not here?" Jack asked, disappointed he would be delayed in seeing her.

"No, she's not," the nurse confirmed. "Let me find out for you which floor she's on now, okay?"

A few minutes later, Jack was at last on the correct floor, but he would be disappointed yet again. The nurse on this recovery ward informed him: "She's resting again now, Mr. Bartlett. But you can go sit with her as long as you don't disturb her."

"You go ahead, Grandpa," Amy said while holding onto her sleeping toddler. "Lyndy and I'll wait out here for you for a bit."

Jack patted his granddaughter's shoulder. "Thank you," he said.

***

"Hey, Cowboy..."

Jack jerked his head up at the sound of the thin, wispy voice. Lisa was looking at him through tired, heavy-lidded eyes.

"Lis..." he whispered in awe, thinking he would burst with joy at seeing her conscious again. He had drifted off to a shallow nap while sitting at her bedside thanks to the lack of rest the night before, now all he wanted to do was keep his eyes open to be sure they were not deceiving him.

Jack forced himself not to overwhelm her, so he refrained from peppering her with all the frantic questions that were burning within. He instead sucked in a deep, steadying breath before taking a measured approach. "I am so relieved you woke up. How're you feeling?"

Lisa blinked slowly, as if considering how to answer. "Terrible," she eventually replied, after swallowing a couple times.

"Here, let me get you some water," Jack said quickly, reaching for the cup on the bedside table. He brought the straw to her lips and she drew a quick sip.

"Thanks," she rasped, throat still raw despite taking a drink. He put the cup back after intuiting she was satisfied for the time being.

"Are you in pain?" Jack asked anxiously.

A grimace crossed her face as she nodded in the affirmative. "Head," she muttered. "Arm... and side..."

"I can get the nurse or the doctor," Jack said, already rising up to get someone.

"No," Lisa spoke with more volume. "Don't go... just yet."

"Okay," Jack said, settling back into the chair, brushing her cheek gently to reassure her he was not going anywhere. "I'll just use the call button, then."

"Mm-hmm," she agreed, eyeing Jack as he pressed the device at her side. A few beats of silence passed before she spoke again. "What happened... to me? The doctors haven't told me anything yet... or maybe I was too out of it to remember if they did."

Jack searched her face. The dark circles under her eyes stood in contrast to the frighteningly wan pallor of her skin. "What do you remember?" he asked, hoping to forestall discussion of the trauma she had endured.

She reflected carefully before replying. "I-I was driving to a meeting, wasn't I?"

"Yes," Jack confirmed with an encouraging nod. "You were. Do you remember anything else?"

"I can't quite," she murmured, frowning with the effort of trying to recall the details of that drive. "There was a guy..."

Upon hearing this, Jack stiffened in his seat, pulse quickening. Maybe she would remember. Maybe they would be able to find her shooter and bring him to justice, effectively ending this nightmare. "What 'guy'?"

"On a motorbike," Lisa sighed. "He was trying to pass me on the road. I think he was afraid to risk it... did we have an accident? Did something hit us?"

Jack shook his head.

"Oh, no. Please don't tell me I hit him."

A soft, sad smile formed on his lips at the misery on her face at the thought she might be the one responsible for her current predicament. "No, no," he said to reassure her. "You didn't do anything wrong, Lis."

"Oh. Good." She sighed, blinking in relief to have that fear assuaged. "What, then?"

Jack was spared having to reply when a wiry nurse with short salt-and-pepper hair appeared at the door.

"Is everything okay?" she asked, looking in at the two of them.

"She woke up from her 'nap'," Jack stated.

"Wonderful!" declared the nurse, whose name tag identified her as 'Cheryl'. She strode into the room purposefully, immediately checking Lisa's vitals and asking about her pain levels.

"I have a terrible headache. But... my arm and side... hurt the most," Lisa responded tiredly. "Pain is about a seven or eight out of ten, maybe?"

"Remember there's a tube in your side," Cheryl said, "but I'll get the doctor to see if we can do something about increasing your pain meds to take the edge off—now that you're fully awake."

Lisa nodded. "Okay. Thank you."

"Be right back," the nurse said, smiling at the couple as she departed.

"Do you remember anything else?" Jack prodded when he was sure they were alone again.

"Mm-mm," Lisa mumbled, giving her head a slight negative shake.

Jack could see her lack of recall was frustrating her. He made the decision right then to give her the truth, without any dissimulation.

"Lis," he began slowly, finding it difficult to formulate the words even though he had gone over in his mind a hundred times what he knew about the heinous actions that brought her here. "You went off the road on the way to the meeting. We're not sure exactly what happened or why, but... Someone shot you."

His words struck a chord of distress in her, frazzling her nerves. Her face crumpled in confusion and Jack noticed a perceptible uptick in her heart-rate monitor.

"Shot...?" she uttered fearfully, unable to make sense of this piece of news. "Wh-why? Who would...?"

"We don't know. We were hoping you would be able to tell us something," Jack said, placing a hand over hers in comfort, delicately trying to avoid the I.V. port and lines. "Now, Chief Parker has got people investigating. But it's like I told him: my beautiful wife doesn't have an enemy in the world who would want to do something like this."

"I can't—I don't understand," Lisa said, still not recovered from the shock of Jack's news. "I have no memory of that... I—there must be some mistake..."

"I talked to Chief Parker," Jack said calmly, trying to ground her and bring her some peace of mind. "Like I said, he's got everyone he can looking into this, okay? We're going to catch who did this."

And he'd better pray I don't catch him first, Jack thought to himself.

Lisa sighed and nodded. "Okay."

***

Hudson Police Headquarters

"Chief, the hospital just called," Patterson informed her boss. "Lisa Stillman has regained consciousness."

"That's good news," Jim said. "You and Kavanaugh get up there right away. We need to get her statement about what happened as soon as the doctors will let you speak with her."

"All right," Patterson said. "We're on our way."

***

Lou's hurriedly booked flight from New York was scheduled to arrive early that afternoon at Calgary International Airport. The entire time in the air was spent in dread remembrance of a similar trip years ago. That time, she knew she would be coming home to a dead mother and a comatose sister, the result of an accident that occurred during a crazy rescue mission to save Spartan. Lou wondered what would be awaiting her this time. The shock of hearing that her grandfather's second wife had been shot had still not worn off.

What on earth did you get yourself into, Lisa? Lou questioned silently. This is going to kill Grandpa if you don't make it. I saw what losing Grandma Lyndy did to him, and what it did to him when we lost Mom. So you'd better live. Oh, why is this even happening?

"Dad!" she called out to Tim when she spotted his cowboy-hatted figure waiting for her outside the Arrivals gate.

"Lou, honey," Tim said, giving her a quick hug. "Good news. Lisa woke up. Jack's with her right now."

"Oh, thank goodness!" Lou exclaimed, happy she did not have to ask the question about Lisa's state of health. "I was so worried."

"Yeah, we all were," Tim said as he motioned for her to head to his truck while taking her suitcases. "But it looks like she's going to be okay, so we can probably stop worrying."

"That's a huge relief," Lou said. "Do the police have any idea what happened?"

"The police are clueless," Tim replied gruffly. "No leads except there was 'some guy' on a motorcycle."

"That's too bad," Lou said. "I don't even know what to think about all this."

"Yeah, it's a real mess," Tim said as they reached his truck.

"Dad," Lou began tentatively, biting her lip. "What about Amy? How's she doing?"

"She's better, I think," Tim answered plainly. "She's not as mopey and depressed today, anyway."

"That's good," stated Lou. "I guess things are looking up, then. I don't think this family could take much more, honestly."

"Yeah, it's been rough," Tim said in agreement. "Listen, I've got to stop in at Maggie's on the way home. You mind? It's been overwhelming with everything going on lately."

"You haven't let a couple family crises get in the way of your duties at the diner, have you, Dad?" Lou chided in mock reproach.

"Absolutely not," Tim said. "After all, isn't that why you hired Jen? To make sure things run smoothly while you're away?"

"Yeah, yeah," Lou quipped. "Let's go. I'm tired and I want to call Katie and Peter when I get home so we can arrange for her to come back now that everything is improving."

***

South Calgary Health Campus

"The police are here," Nurse Cheryl announced to Jack and Lisa. "They would like to speak to Ms. Stillman about what happened."

"Don't know how much I can tell them," Lisa said, feeling better now that the pain was back within tolerable levels. "I don't really remember much."

"That's all right. You just do your best, okay?" Jack said encouragingly. "Tell them what you told me, and they'll take it from there."

Lisa nodded and a small sigh escaped her lips. "Okay. I'll try."

Jack stepped out of the room to make way for Detective Kavanaugh and Detective Constable Patterson to enter and to give them some privacy.

"Good afternoon, Ms. Stillman," Kavanaugh said. Both he and Patterson seated themselves so Lisa did not have to strain to look up at them. "I'm sorry we have to meet again under such awful circumstances."

Lisa looked warily at the pair. "Good afternoon," she replied, somewhat guardedly.

"How are you feeling?" asked Patterson.

"Better than I was a couple hours ago. Thank God for good pain meds," Lisa remarked with a sardonic twist of her mouth.

"Good, we're glad to hear that," Patterson said. "Think you can answer our questions about what happened yesterday?"

"I'll try," Lisa replied.

"Thank you," Patterson said kindly. "We appreciate you're willing to talk with us."

"We'd like to go over with you the details—as you can recall them—of yesterday afternoon when you were shot," Kavanaugh said. "Thanks to Drs. Cardinal and Borden, we have some idea, but we're hoping you can fill in the blanks."

"Okay," Lisa said with a slow nod. "What do you want to know?"

"Tell us about the drive in to Calgary," Kavanaugh started. "Did you notice anything strange or unusual during that drive?"

"Yes," Lisa answered after a brief moment of consideration. "Sort of."

"Explain what you mean by 'sort of', please," Kavanaugh said.

"There was someone riding a motorcycle who kept trying to pass," Lisa said.

"Can you describe this person?" asked Kavanaugh.

"Not really," Lisa replied. "The memory of it is hazy right now. I'm pretty sure he was wearing a helmet so I couldn't see his face, and I think he was wearing a black jacket."

"Was there anything else about that jacket that was distinctive? Logos? Patches?"

"No, sorry," Lisa said. "Either I'm not remembering, or there weren't any at all."

"Okay, thanks, Ms. Stillman," said Kavanaugh.

"Do you think you could perhaps tell us what kind of motorcycle he was riding?" Patterson asked.

Lisa shook her head once in the negative. "Honestly, I don't think I could. Sorry. I mean, maybe it was something on the sportier side? My grandson-in-law—that's Dr. Borden—had a Norton, and whatever this guy had didn't look anything like that bike. 'Sleek' is probably a word I'd use, but that is all I could say."

"What about the colour?"

Lisa closed her eyes and tried to remember if she had, in fact, seen anything distinctive about the bike. "Red, maybe?" she finally answered, opening her eyes to look again at Patterson. "I mostly saw it in my mirrors. I can't be positive. I'm sorry."

"All right, thanks for trying," Patterson said, her blue eyes showing a little disappointment. "Tell us instead a little more about your drive to Calgary. Is this something you do on a regular basis? What was your reason for heading there?"

"I belong to a private investors' group. I was heading for a meeting with them."

"Who knew you were going to be attending this meeting?" asked Patterson.

"Well," Lisa began thoughtfully, "besides my husband and our family members at Heartland—maybe a couple of my staff at Fairfield—only the members of the investors' group."

"Is this meeting a regularly scheduled thing?" Patterson asked. "Is there a specific reason your meeting was yesterday?"

"Yes, you see, we've, uh, lost a member recently," Lisa began, sucking in a ragged breath as she remembered Val, wincing slightly at the immediate discomfort in her side this activity brought.

"And who was this member?" asked Kavanaugh.

"The late Val Stanton," Lisa answered. "We were meeting because her son, Jesse, is interested in taking her place in the group. We were going to vote on his membership at this meeting."

This piqued Patterson's interest. "Were all the members keen on Jesse Stanton's admission to your group?"

"Oh, yes," Lisa replied. "It was really just a formality to vote him in. Jesse is fully in charge of Briar Ridge now that Val is gone. He'd like to continue her legacy with the group. Nobody in the group had any problem with that as far as I know."

"When was the last time you heard from Liam Comox?" asked Kavanaugh.

Lisa's brow buckled. "Liam Comox?" she repeated, surprised by the turn this line of questioning had taken. "I haven't seen him in years. Not since I fired him and reported him to the Steward's Office."

Kavanaugh continued: "Has he been in touch with you since? Any phone calls? Threatening letters? Emails?"

"No," Lisa said, wondering how on earth these detectives even knew about her former jockey. "Nothing like that at all."

"Thanks, Ms. Stillman," Kavanaugh said.

Patterson jumped in again. "Ms. Stillman, I'm going to ask a very difficult question now: are you and your husband having any marital issues?"

The shock that registered on her face should have been enough of a clue for the law enforcement officers they had taken the wrong tack, but Lisa responded anyway:

"Most certainly not," she said emphatically.

"I know we touched on this earlier when you spoke to us about Val Stanton's habit of 'flirting' with your husband, but have there been any infidelity issues in the past we should know about, on either side?" Patterson pressed.

"Zero," Lisa said in a clipped tone.

"You and Dan Hartfield were previously married," Kavanaugh stated in a matter-of-fact manner. "Why did that relationship end in divorce?"

"If you're really asking if Jack Bartlett had anything to do with my divorce, the answer is 'no'," Lisa said, trying not to lose her temper. "My relationship with Dan ended because he was a lousy husband and was more interested in what I brought to the table for our business interests. I hadn't even met Jack when I was married to Dan."

"Then would you say your divorce was an amicable one?" asked Patterson.

"Mostly, yes," Lisa replied honestly. "We remained business partners afterwards, and we're still very civil to each other."

"Do you have a will, Ms. Stillman?"

Lisa suspected this question might be coming, but was still taken aback when Det. Kavanaugh asked it.

"Yes, I do," she answered, trying to sound as calm as possible.

"And who's the main beneficiary?"

"My husband, Jack Bartlett."

"How much does he stand to inherit?"

"Everything."

"On paper, you're worth millions in assets, Ms. Stillman," said Patterson. "Let's be frank—"

"Yes, let's, " Lisa said, growing more indignant these officers were insinuating Jack might be the reason she was lying in this hospital bed.

"I want to emphasize right now that you're safe with us, Ms. Stillman, and we can make sure you stay that way if what happened to you is domestic in nature," Patterson said earnestly before asking the next question. "Do you think your husband is behind this attempt on your life?"

"Absolutely not," Lisa stated, her eyes burning like coals. A knot of discomfort bordering on nausea was gathering in the pit of her stomach and her head was starting to pound.

"You seem very confident of that," Kavanaugh said, noting her shift in tone and demeanour. "It has not escaped our notice you're significantly younger than your husband—"

"Look, if you think my husband is some kind of murderous gold-digger," Lisa interrupted tersely, sending both detectives a piercing glare, "let me make something perfectly clear: I am the one who pursued Jack. I am the one who wanted to get married. It took him nearly seven years to ask the right way, but I can assure you he wasn't after my money, and he still isn't. In fact, he is uncomfortable with the notion he'll have to deal with Fairfield if anything happens to me."

"Noted," Kavanaugh commented with a curt nod.

Lisa exhaled in relief the cops were unable to make their suspicions about Jack stick. This respiratory action again resulted in another localized jab of pain in her side.

"Thank you for giving us your honest answers, Ms. Stillman," Patterson said. "Can you think of anyone either in your personal life or your professional life who might want to harm you?"

"None," Lisa said.

"Think carefully, please," Patterson said.

"I'm sorry, I really can't," Lisa responded, losing all patience with this interview. "I just don't think I've ever made someone upset enough to want to do this to me."

Patterson smiled wryly. "All right, thank you for trying. I can see this isn't an easy thing to think about."

"Is that everything, detectives?" Lisa asked, barely hiding her discomfort now. "I'm suddenly feeling really tired and really lousy, and I think my pain meds are starting to wear off."

"We are for now," Kavanaugh said, looking to his partner. "We may have more questions later. Thank you for your cooperation."

"You're welcome," Lisa managed to articulate, though she was now bordering on retching while the headache was beginning to feel like a C-clamp screwed around her skull.

"We wish you a speedy recovery," Patterson said as she and Kavanaugh stood to leave. "If you remember anything else from that day, or if something new occurs to you that you didn't mention, please call us immediately."

"All right," Lisa managed to say.

"You still have our cards?" Kavanaugh asked.

"At my office."

"Here they are again," Kavanaugh said, as the two cops placed them on the bedside table.

"Thanks," Lisa said, not bothering to even look at the contact information as Kavanaugh and Patterson slipped out of the room. All she wanted now was to have Jack with her again and to close her eyes and rest.

They're only doing their jobs, one part of her mind argued. You know they had to ask those questions about Jack. She let out a slow breath in frustrated anger. But Jack would never hurt me! She argued back. But they don't know that, the other side rebutted. Lisa wore a frown as she contemplated this. She hated to think her husband would be the target of a misguided investigation into who had actually tried to end her life. What a complete waste of time and resources if they start hounding Jack. I need to do something about this...

***

Jack watched Kavanaugh and Patterson exit Lisa's room. They're done, he thought in relief.

"I'm heading back in to be with her," he said to Amy. "Thanks for bringing me here. Are you okay to ask Ty to come get you? You don't have to stay, and this is really no place for Lyndy to be for any length of time. I'll be okay to drive myself home later."

"Are you sure?" asked Amy looking at him carefully.

"Positive," Jack replied.

"Okay. I'll call Ty," Amy said, pulling out her cell. "Tell Lisa we're all so happy she's going to be okay."

"I will," said Jack. "'Bye for now. See you later tonight."

He stepped back inside Lisa's room and immediately noticed her low spirits.

"Hey, are you all right?"

"Not really," Lisa said in a low whisper.

"What did those cops say to you?" Jack asked with concern.

"I... I don't really want to talk about that now," Lisa said weakly, her stomach still unsettled and her head still aching. She also intuited Jack would be upset if he heard about the kinds of questions that had been asked of him. He had already been through so much in the past 24 hours, she wanted to spare him.

"Hey, did I tell you it was Ty and Scott who found you out on the road?"

She looked at him in surprise. "No," she uttered, face brightening despite her current miserable state.

Jack nodded. "They were coming back into town. They saw your Porsche and stopped right away. They saved your life, Lis."

"My angels," Lisa whispered. "Please tell them I say 'thank you.'"

"Well, you can tell them yourself when we bust you out of this joint," Jack said with a grin.

Lisa cracked a small smile. "Yes, I suppose I can."

"There's that smile I was hoping to see," Jack murmured happily, brushing his fingertips on her cheek.

"I think I need a nap," Lisa said.

"Then go ahead and have a nap," Jack said. "I'll be right here with you."

"Thanks," Lisa whispered, as her eyes drifted shut again.

Jack simply sat and watched while she dozed, hopeful the worst was behind them.

***

Hudson Police Headquarters

"Lisa Stillman was quite adamant her husband had nothing to do with her shooting," Kavanaugh said during their debrief with Parker of their interview with Lisa.

"She has had no contact from Liam Comox, and she could not name any other potential threats in her life," Patterson added.

"Hmm," Parker hummed with a frown.

"The only other connection we've come up with so far that links Stanton and Stillman is one Dan Hartfield," Patterson said.

"And all three of them belong to some investors' group that was meeting in Calgary yesterday," said Kavanaugh.

A knock on the door brought the conversation to a halt.

"Come in," Parker called.

"Chief," Constable Becket said, opening the door, "there's a man named Dan Hartfield who's demanding to see you."

"Speak of the devil," Kavanaugh muttered under his breath.

"What's this about Hartfield wanting to see me? What's his problem?" Parker asked, irritated at having been interrupted.

"The man's a nervous wreck," Becket responded. "He says he heard about what happened yesterday to Lisa Stillman. He says he thinks his life is in danger, too."

"Oh, does he, now?" Parker said, considering this piece of information. "Did Hartfield provide any proof to support that idea?"

"From what he's told me, he pointed to the fact that all the shooting victims in Hudson so far—Stanton and Stillman—were all part of some private investors' group he happens to belong to," Becket said. "He thinks there might be, and I quote, 'a hit list', and that he thinks he could be next."

"Patterson; Kavanaugh, go have a talk with him," Parker commanded. "See what he has to say for himself and this little investors' group... and why he thinks there might be a 'hit list', as he calls it."

"You got it, Boss," Kavanaugh said, as both he and Patterson made a hasty exit.

***

"Where's Chief Parker?" Dan asked upon seeing Kavanaugh and Patterson enter the room in which he was asked to wait.

"Busy," Kavanaugh said evasively. "We'll take your statement."

Dan scowled. "Okay, fine," he said. "As long as you take this right to him."

"If what you tell us is worth mentioning, we will," Kavanaugh commented dryly. "Now, we understand you have reason to believe your life is in danger?"

"Yes!" Dan exclaimed. "You need to believe me when I tell you someone is out to get the members of an investors' group I belong to. Someone out there obviously has a hit list, and he's already taken out three of us!"

"Three of you?" Patterson asked, surprised by this revelation.

"Yes! Please listen to me," Dan begged. "My life and all our lives in that group could be in danger."

Moved by Dan's palpable sense of fear, Patterson said, "Fine. Tell us everything you can."

Later

"So Hartfield insists Val Stanton and Lisa Stillman were targets because of this investors' group they all belong to?" Parker said during his debriefing with Kavanaugh and Patterson following their interview with Dan Hartfield.

"He also brought up one that was not on our radar because it happened up in Calgary over a year ago, and it was listed as a home invasion-robbery gone wrong," Patterson said. "Husband and wife by the name of Lanny and Paige Barick."

"I remember hearing about that one," said Parker, growing serious. "Get me a list with all names of all those investors, pronto!"

"Hartfield already did. It's right here." Patterson passed a piece of paper to the chief that Dan had provided.

"This is the full list?" asked Parker after reading the contents.

"Affirmative."

"Barick, Stanton, and Stillman have all been hit," Parker said. "Hartfield is convinced he could be next. These other names: Stanley Belmont, Fred Garland, Tanner Gunn, Emma Fitzroy, Jesse Stanton, and Connor Wiebe... If Hartfield thinks someone is offing the members of this group, we have a lot of ground to cover."

"Chief," Patterson said slowly, "when Kavanaugh and I were questioning Stillman at the hospital earlier today, she mentioned the reason she was heading into Calgary that afternoon was to vote on Jesse Stanton's admission into the group."

"You think there's some connection between that event and all the shootings?" Parker asked.

Patterson shrugged. "I don't know," she answered honestly. "Stillman seemed to think Jesse's membership was pretty much a done deal, so maybe not."

"Another point worth mentioning: Hartfield had been romantically involved with Stanton, and he and Stillman used to be married to each other," Kavanaugh said. "He doesn't stand to gain anything if Stillman is out of the picture—nothing we've uncovered yet, anyway."

"Interesting," Parker murmured, wearing a pensive expression. "Think there's a life insurance policy he's kept up all these years?"

"Could be," Kavanaugh responded. "Jesse Stanton seemed to think Hartfield was just as rich as his mother, if not more so. But maybe if we go digging, we'll find Hartfield is strapped for cash. Could be motive to want Stillman out of the way, at least, and this whole 'hit list' thing is a smokescreen."

"It's worth looking into," Parker said. "We know Stillman and Hartfield maintained business ties after they divorced, but this little private investors' group... I want the team to dig a bit into their activity, too. See if we can find any reasons why someone would want to bump off the members, just in case Hartfield isn't just being paranoid."

"Yes, sir," Kavanaugh said. "We're on it."

***

Upon arriving at Maggie's, Tim immediately fielded questions from several of the regulars as to how Lisa was doing. He was able to pass along the happy news she was awake and on the way to recovery in the hospital.

"Oh, my gosh, I'm so glad you came in today, Tim," Jade Virani said in a rush, catching him between taking an order to the kitchen and picking one up. "Small-town gossip is insane. Everyone in here's been talking about what happened to Lisa."

"Well, she's awake now and doing a lot better," Tim said. "So whatever they've been saying can stop."

"You don't get it, Tim," Jade said, eyes shifting around the diner. "Some of your loyal customers are saying some totally dumb sh—uh, things."

"Yeah? Like what?" Tim ventured to ask.

Jade sidled up closer to him and in a conspiratorial whisper said: "Stupid stuff like maybe Jack did it so he could make it rich off Lisa's will."

"That's ridiculous," Tim snapped in a heated tone.

"I know," Jade said, "but it's what some people are saying."

Tim let out a breath in exasperation, also taking a quick glance around at all the patrons sitting at the tables and squeezed into booths.

How can they think Jack could be capable of doing that to Lisa? The thought was preposterous, yet, some of these so-called loyal customers evidently could not resist proposing the worst theories possible.

"Okay, get back to work, Jade," Tim urged. "We're not paying you to stand around. But if you hear anyone else saying they think Jack somehow wanted to get Lisa out of the way, you and the rest of the staff have my permission to deny them service. Better yet, kick 'em out and tell 'em not to come back."

Jade's mouth twisted into a conniving smile. "Can I just spit in their food, instead?" she joked rhetorically, and continued on to the kitchen.

***

That same day, a phone call took place between two people.

"We've got a problem. Lisa Stillman just woke up," the first voice uttered.

"'We', Kemosabe?" the other voice spat in derision, followed by a barrage of profanity. "You absolute idiot! It was foolhardy to go after Stillman when you did, but you got impatient!"

"C'mon, man, you know I'm running out of time. Help me fix this. If it wasn't for me, you would never have had access to—"

"Yeah, yeah, fine," the second voice interjected with annoyance. "But you've just used up all the currency you earned with that one, understand? No more favours. No more unauthorized moves. We lie low now for the next little while, got it?"

"Yeah, I got it."

"Good. And listen: if those vets become a problem—"

"Don't worry; I'll take care of them," the first voice said.

"I was hoping you'd say that, since you're the reason they might be a problem in the first place!"

***

Later that same afternoon, a new conversation took place between two individuals that would have been of great interest to Chief Parker and his team of investigators. Unfortunately, those law enforcement officers were unaware it was happening, and were therefore unable to act upon it.

"Is your man still in Hudson?"

"Yeah, probably. He says he likes the scenery and he likes bear hunting. I hear there's been some sightings around those parts lately."

"Tell him to forget the freakin' bears. I've got a different quarry for him again—of the human variety. This one's a bit of a clean-up job. I'm counting on your guy to finish it right."

"'Clean-up', eh?"

"Yeah. The first attempt was seriously botched."

"I'm insulted you didn't contact me for the job in the first place."

"Heh. If it had been my call, I would have brought your man in again for this one. But I have a maverick who thought he could take matters into his own hands. Went off, half-cocked, and left me with this mess."

"I see. Give me the details and he'll get it done. "

"The target is currently a patient in the South Calgary Health Campus. Her name is Lisa Stillman. I'll send you a picture, as usual. I really don't care how it's done; your man just needs to make her dead, and he needs to make it happen before she can be discharged. The sooner, the better."

"Hmm. The hospital is risky. Too many cameras, too much security, and too many people crawling around. My guy will want extra. Call it 'danger pay'."

"How much extra?"

"Ten grand."

"Done. And when he's through offing Stillman, tell him to stick around Hudson for a little while longer. I have a feeling there might be a couple other loose ends for him to tie up."

"Fine. The more, the merrier!"

***

After contacting Rachel Stillman in Montreal and Peter in Vancouver, Lou was finally able to reach Lisa's aunt, who was currently enjoying a cruise of the Mediterranean. The woman did not mind the late call, and had been anxious for word on her niece's condition.

"Do you need me to come out to Alberta?" Evelyn asked. "I can get off at the next port of call and arrange a flight."

"No, Evelyn, you can stay right where you are for now," Lou said calmly. "Lisa's out of the ICU. There's no need to come rushing back."

"Are you sure?" Evelyn's husky voice was filled with worry.

"I'm sure," Lou said. "We'll call if anything changes."

"All right. Tell her I love her, will you, please, Lou? I hope those doctors and nurses are taking very good care of her."

"I'm sure they are," Lou said. "'Bye for now."

***

With Georgie's excused absence from school, Adam and Wyatt paid a call on their friend, both to get her up to speed on missed schoolwork, and for moral support.

Georgie, however, was interested in neither. Her mind was turned to matters of justice.

"Adam, what's the latest on your father's investigation into what's happened to Lisa?" she asked, as soon as homework was delivered along with the expected but nonetheless welcome words of concern from the boys.

"Sorry, Georgie," Adam said with a slow shake of his head. "My dad can't share details with me about an active case."

"Oh," Georgie said with a disappointed pout.

"But that doesn't mean we can't do some investigating of our own," Adam added.

"What—do we look like the Hardy Boys and Nancy Drew to you?" Wyatt quipped.

Georgie made a face; Wyatt took the cue and quieted himself.

"Seriously, though," Adam said, "I have some theories."

"Like?" Georgie asked.

"Like the fact this is the second shooting to happen in Hudson where both victims were women who were in the horse business," Adam said plainly.

"Doesn't prove anything," Wyatt rejoined. "A lot of people in this town are in the horse business. It's, like, all you see around here. I mean, this town is practically built on equine-this and rodeo-that."

"Yeah, but not all of those businesses are as high-end as Briar Ridge and Fairfield," Adam pointed out. "They have some pretty exclusive clients. They're high profile. I've done some preliminary research. Fairfield is pretty famous in horse-racing circles, and not just in Canada. The same goes for Briar Ridge for showjumping."

"You think someone deliberately targeted Val Stanton and Lisa because of their high profiles in the equestrian business?" Georgie asked, stunned at what Adam was suggesting.

Adam calmly responded, "It's possible."

Wyatt snorted. "So, what—you think there's some psycho serial killer out there who's taking out women who train and breed horses for rich people?"

"No," Adam answered in his usual dry manner. "Serial killers tend to stick to a specific modus operandi. The news didn't provide a lot of details, but I've deduced Val Stanton was probably killed by a sniper with a rifle from a significant distance. Lisa Stillman was in her vehicle when she was shot, probably by someone with a handgun, and from close range. Val Stanton was shot once. Lisa Stillman was shot twice. Two completely different methods. It was clearly not the same person."

"Clearly," Wyatt said with a dubious shake of his head.

"Wait," Georgie said slowly, thinking now of the circumstances under which the Briar Ridge owner had died. "When Val was shot, she was riding Herring. Lisa had just lent him to Val so she could see if she wanted to buy him. What if—what if this has to do with Herring?"

"Why would someone kill someone else over a horse?" Wyatt sounded unconvinced.

Adam stared at Georgie. "How valuable is Herring?"

"Oh, I-I don't know," Georgie considered. "But Lisa's horses aren't cheap stock. He could easily be worth one hundred thousand, or more."

"A hundred thousand?!" Wyatt sputtered. "As in dollars? For a horse? You could buy a couple slick new cars for that amount."

"Not only that," Georgie said, looking between her two friends. "Olympic showjumping horses can be worth millions. And that's just the price of the horse. Stud fees is where the real money is for breeders like Lisa."

"'Stud fees'?" Wyatt echoed in confusion.

"You know, horse breeding?" Georgie said, searching his face for signs of comprehension.

"Whoa. People pay for that?" Wyatt exclaimed. "You mean, it doesn't just, like, happen? 'Born free'?"

Georgie rolled her eyes; Adam ignored his pal. "Georgie, what else can you tell me about this horse?"

"Um, not much, really. Lisa planned to have Herring as a hunter-jumper for when she goes on those faux fox hunts they do with the club. Then Val said she might be interested. Lisa's nephew's horse was the sire. I'm sorry; that's all I know." She shook her head while shrugging helplessly.

"See if you can figure anything else out," Adam advised. "There's got to be something special about him. He's still here at Heartland, right?"

"Right," Georgie replied. "We've kept him here since he belongs to Lisa, after all."

"You might want to consider keeping a close eye on him," Adam warned.

"Why? You think someone might try to steal him?" Georgie asked, suddenly uneasy at what Adam seemed to be suggesting.

"Maybe," Adam answered. "Right now, anything is possible, and Herring appears to be the only thing linking Val and Lisa."

***

South Calgary Health Campus

Despite wanting to stay awake, Jack eventually nodded off, emotional, physical, and mental exhaustion taking over. The turmoil of the past 24 hours soon played havoc on his dreamscape as phantom manifestations of Chief Parker and his investigators interrogated him about what happened to Lisa.

"Do you own any firearms?" the dream-Parker asked menacingly.

"A rifle," Jack replied, thinking Parker already knew the answer anyway.

"Does Lisa have a will?"

Jack knew he had to answer honestly. "Yes. Of course she does."

"And who's the beneficiary?" Parker asked.

"Well, I am," Jack replied.

The faces of the dream versions of Kavanaugh and Patterson seemed full of condemnation.

"But... that's all to ensure my—our—grandchildren and great-grandchildren will inherit the Fairfield property and business," Jack said, wanting to make them understand.

"I see," dream-Parker said, writing down notes on a notepad.

"Look, I don't expect to out-live my wife," Jack said, trying to keep his temper in check. "That will she made... she made it when she was worried about a possible health issue a couple years ago. It turned out to be nothing, thank goodness, and heaven knows I don't want to be saddled with a horseracing outfit. Lisa knows that. She was thinking of the kids, not of me."

"Mr. Bartlett, do you own a motorcycle?" Kavanaugh asked.

"No," Jack replied. "But my grandson-in-law does. A Norton." Wait, no, he doesn't, some part of Jack's brain argued. He sold it, remember?

"Mr. Bartlett, you're under arrest for the murder of your wife, Lisa Stillman," Parker said, reaching for a pair of handcuffs.

"Wait!" Jack shouted, fear building up inside him. "I didn't kill her! She's still alive! She's still alive!"

"Jack?"

Jack awoke with a start at the sound of Lisa's voice.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

Jack opened his eyes. Lisa was staring at him with a puzzled expression. "Hmph," he muttered. "Yeah, I'm fine."

"You were shouting in your sleep, honey," Lisa said.

Jack grimaced. "Uh, I had a bad dream."

"Want to tell me about it?"

"Not really," he answered, rubbing his face. The fear that had coursed through him when the dream version of Chief Parker was about to arrest him was already receding. "It was just stupid, irrational stuff. Didn't mean to wake you up."

"It's okay," Lisa said with a tired nod and a yawn. Her eyelids flickered shut and she drifted off to sleep again.

Jack sat himself straight up in his chair and resolved to stay awake this time, lest he slip back into another bad dream. Thank God that nightmare is over.

***

Chapter 8: Hunter and the Hunted