“It’s not fair!”
“No. Life isn’t fair,” she said quietly. “We learn to cope with it the best we can.” She paused and walked over to stroke Trickster’s forelock. “Look at Trickster, for example. She was a racehorse once upon a time, Joey. She was destined for greatness. Then a jockey whipped her into frenzy and she broke a leg—and she was worthless to the man who owned her. Instead of being grateful for the races she’d won and the money she’d made for him, his owner planned on having her euthanized. But—”
Her voice broke, which surprised her. She believed she’d accepted that Marcus was dead. She hadn’t “seen” him since his death, and she and the rest of the employees at the Horse Farm were moving forward with the work Marcus had deemed so important.
“But?” Joey asked, puzzled.
“But Marcus heard about Trickster, and he bought her—offering her owner more money than the glue factory. He brought her out here, cared for her, and now she’s beautiful, as you can see.”
“They were going to make glue out of her?” Joey demanded, horrified.
“What matters is that she’s here now. And she knows we love her. It took a while, because she was just thrown out in a pasture and allowed to starve, living in constant pain, before Marcus rescued her.”
“But Marcus didn’t stay with her,” Joey pointed out.
“Marcus died, Joey. But he left her in the care of people who would continue to love her.”
Joey took a deep breath and ripped out a strand of grass to chew on. He looked across the landscape and said, “I shouldn’t have made life so miserable for my uncle, huh?”
“He was only miserable because he loves you. And I don’t think he’s miserable anymore because he knows you really do want to live a productive life. You just need to come to terms with what happened.”
He shrugged. At sixteen, he was a tall boy, a good-looking kid in great physical condition. He turned to her with one of his rakish smiles. “You like me, huh?”
“Of course I like you,” she told him.
His grin broadened. “I like you, too. But how I know you like me is that you’ve forgotten the time.”
Olivia glanced quickly at her watch. His hour was up; it had been for the past ten minutes. He’d been a tough case to crack and she’d felt deeply for him. “Don’t get ideas, kid,” she said. “I’m your therapist.”
“But you’re cute, too.”
“Great. Now let’s head back.”
“I can come and see Trickster when I’m older. Old enough to be a lot cooler in your eyes.”
“Joey! Cut it out. You’re just saying that to get a reaction out of me and you’re not going to. I’m your therapist. And you’re never going to be older than I am and we’re never going to date.”
“Wow. That life-not-being-fair thing is harsh!” he said. But he was still grinning. Then his grin faded. “They’re talking about Marcus, you know. There’s a rumor that he went back on drugs. That they found heroin in his system when they did the autopsy.”
Olivia felt her back stiffen. “Marcus wasn’t doing drugs,” she said.
“So, it’s a lie?”
She winced. It wasn’t a lie. But it was something that, so far, wasn’t common knowledge, even though the medical examiner had informed the staff at the Horse Farm. She’d assumed that unless an investigative reporter actually looked into Marcus’s death, no one would know it was true. And yet, rumors were obviously running rampant.
“I heard there were drugs in his system,” Joey said again.
“I knew Marcus, Joey. If there were drugs in his system, they weren’t there because he voluntarily took them.”
“You think he was tricked?” Joey asked.
“I don’t know what to think yet.”
“Wow. The plot thickens!” Joey said excitedly. “What if...wow. What if someone did drug him because they wanted him to die? Or what if he was pushed?”
“Joey, you’re talking about someone who meant a lot to me.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, Liv, really.” Joey spoke with sincerity and she believed him. “It’s just that...well, we don’t have radios or TVs or the internet where I’m living right now. I’m embarrassed. I heard about this, and it was more interesting to think about that than...well, my own recovery, I guess,” he finished lamely.
“It’s okay. I’m not angry with you.”
“Scary, though, huh? I mean, this place is here for therapy. Supposedly, working with animals saved Marcus Danby’s life. If he wound up going back on drugs...well, it doesn’t say much for therapy.”
“No, it doesn’t,” Olivia agreed.