Kurt turned on his back and rolled to the middle of the bed. He liked mulling over a case when he was half asleep, when ideas drifted and took shape. But foreign sounds kept intruding: the hum of the clock radio, the slam of a car door, water swooshing through pipes. Sighing, he propped his head on the lumpy pillow and stared at the ceiling. Wide awake now, he had no need to rush. His horses had been fed, his stalls cleaned. Sandra had found a teenager who was eager to earn money working as a stable hand. And the luxury of extra time this morning was appreciated. He felt sluggish, his sleep disrupted by confusing pictures of Connor and Otto…and Julie. Why was Otto hauling the horse back to the States so quickly? Julie said he was determined to race the mare tonight. But based on the conversation Kurt had overheard in the barn, there had been no concern about the horse’s health or about her readiness to run. They’d only discussed her suitability to ship. Race results seemed irrelevant.
