Page 50 of Equalizer
“Owen. Thank you for coming out.” Steven greeted him with a handshake that gave no indication of more than a professional relationship.
“Of course. Steven, this is my partner, Calvin Springfield. Calvin, this is Steven Coleridge.”
Calvin picked up a slight hesitation before Steven shook his hand. He felt the man’s gaze rake over him, sizing him up, perhaps with the same questions Calvin had harbored about Owen’s choices.
“Partner?” Steven glanced at Owen as he released Calvin’s hand.
“Partner.We’re both Secret Service,” Owen confirmed. Calvin noticed that he left off the supernatural part of their agency name. Although if Steven had called about something to do with their case, he must at least have had an inkling that they investigated situations that were out of the ordinary.
Steven nodded and gave Calvin the once-over again. “Nice to meet you. I hope you can help because I didn’t know who else to call.”
“What’s going on?” Owen asked, all business as he and Calvin fell into step beside Steven as they walked.
“You said to contact you if I thought anything strange was happening. I might be wrong, but I think someone is sabotaging the show, maybe even targeting certain performers for injuries,” Steven told them after he glanced around to make sure no one else was nearby.
“Our people are professionals, and they are very careful. They know that cutting corners could cost lives,” he went on. “We don’t have anyone new in jobs that worked closely with the people who had accidents. I hate to say it, but if my suspicions are right, we’ve been sold out by one of our own.”
“Do you have any rival shows that might have sent a saboteur?” Calvin asked. Chicago had plenty of traveling showsof all sorts. While he doubted there was another cowboy-themed event, every form of entertainment technically competed with all the others.
Steven shrugged. “I guess it’s possible but unlikely. Our gate guards patrol all day and night. Mostly fending off horse thieves, but also to keep out daredevils.”
“What’s been going on?” Owen looked tense, and Calvin suspected he worried that there might be friction.
“Bridles cut, saddle straps weakened, some of the wooden jumping barriers tampered with,” Steven replied. “That’s not a prank. Our riders put their lives on the line with their stunts. Having their gear fail will get them badly injured—or dead.”
Calvin respected the man’s concern for the entertainers. “How about the horses? Has anyone bothered them?”
“No, thank heavens. We have stablehands who take turns sleeping in the barns, and horses are hard to sneak up on,” Steven replied.
“No one else has died?” Owen asked.
“No. But if the accidents keep happening, something will go wrong sooner or later.” Steven sounded like he wanted to take on whoever had caused the damage and mete out his own rough justice. Calvin couldn’t blame him.
Despite himself, Calvin liked Steven. He grudgingly admitted that he could see what had initially attracted Owen, even if Steven wasn’t the settling-down type.
“I’m not a secret agent,” Steven joked, “but I can be nosy. I asked around about the worker who stole the body. Sounds like he owed money, and he might have been on the run from the law. Some of the guys thought he was being blackmailed.”
He sighed. “That wouldn’t be the first time someone came to the show for a fresh start or to hide from the police. Not all our folks, but there are a few who like moving around because they have something—or someone—chasing them.”
“We make it clear that whatever baggage a new hire has can’t interfere with the show or threaten the safety of the other performers,” Steven continued. “Most of the time, that works. We’ve turned a blind eye more than once if debt collectors or jealous boyfriends came looking. But the show is serious business. We don’t knowingly hire criminals.”
“No one saw anything unusual when the vandalism occurred?” Owen pressed.
“No. Once the gates close for the night, there shouldn’t be anyone here who isn’t on the payroll,” Steven replied. “For as big as the show seems, our crew is fairly small and pretty tight. Someone sneaking around after hours should be easy to spot.”
Unless they used magic to cloak themselves,Calvin thought. He traded a glance with Owen that let him know his partner had the same thought.
“Do you know who was blackmailing the worker to steal the body?” Calvin asked. “That might give us a new angle to investigate.”
“Someone in the Mob. Not surprising since this is Chicago,” Steven replied.
“Do you know why he was being blackmailed?” Owen asked.
“Does it matter?”
Owen shrugged. “It might. Leads turn up in surprising places.”
Steven frowned. “No one I talked to seemed to know for certain. Not surprisingly, it wasn’t something he’d talked about. But the best guess was that he had been a fence for other thieves. The gossip said that his gang had gotten sideways with the Mob for not paying their dues. Another version says they stole from someone under Mob protection. A bad bargain, either way.”
