Page 46 of Guess Again
THEPRESCOTT FAMILY MADE THEIR FORTUNE IN LUMBER. THE FAMILYhad been clearing forests and shipping timber across the country since just after the Civil War. Although Prescott Lumber still held a significant spot in the family’s portfolio, it was no longer the largest entity. That distinction went to Prescott Park, the horseracing facility just north of Milwaukee. The Thoroughbred racetrack was home to some of the country’s largest horseracing events and had even managed to snag the coveted Breeder’s Cup in the early 2000s. Jacques Prescott, the current patriarch of the family, also owned the largest breeding farm in Wisconsin, and over the years had entered three of his horses into the Kentucky Derby.
Three generations of financial success brought with it a large real estate portfolio. Jacques Prescott and his family lived on ten thousand acres of land near Beaver Dam that included a fifteen-thousand-square-foot main home, several guest cottages, and stables that housed thirty-two horses. Blake Cordis, one time teacher and head volleyball coach for the Cherryview High School girls’ volleyball team, was now the head groundskeeper and the man in charge of just about everything that happened on the Prescott property. Ethan and Maddie pulled up to the large cast-iron gate where a security guard sat in an air-conditioned booth. Ethan rolled down his window.
“Can I help you, sir?” the security guard asked.
“Yes.” Ethan showed the man his DCI badge. “Ethan Hall with the Wisconsin Department of Criminal Investigation. This is Maddie Jacobson, a detective from Milwaukee.”
Maddie offered her badge.
“We’re looking for Blake Cordis.”
The security guard studied the badges before he slowly nodded. “He’s probably out by the stables. I’ll have to call him on the radio.”
“Please do that, thanks,” Ethan said.
Ten minutes later the cast-iron gates glided open as a green John Deere Work Series Gator UTA sped down a gravel path, stirring up a cloud of dust into the summer heat behind it. Ethan saw that Blake Cordis, dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, was solidly built with thick forearms and bulging biceps.
The guard exited the booth and had a word with Mr. Cordis before Blake walked over to Ethan’s Wrangler.
“Blake Cordis. Something I can help you with?”
Ethan and Maddie raised their badges again.
“Ethan Hall, Wisconsin DCI. Is there someplace we can talk?”
Blake took a step back and surveyed Ethan’s Jeep. “You off duty, Officer?”
“Special Agent. And this is Detective Jacobson.”
“What’s this about?”
Ethan glanced at the security guard and then back to Blake. “I think you’re going to want to have this conversation in private.”
Blake slowly nodded.
“Follow me. We can talk in the stables. My office is air-conditioned. We can get out of this heat.”
Blake hopped back into the Gator and pulled a U-turn. Ethan followed. They drove along the gravel path for half a mile until the horse stables came into view over the crest of a rolling hill. So expansive was the Prescott property that Ethan saw nothing but open fields and white picket fencing in the distance. As they approached the stables, Blake slowed to a stop, and Ethan parked next to the Gator. He and Maddie climbed from the Wrangler.
“Blake Cordis,” Blake said, extending his hand as he walked back toward Ethan.
Ethan shook it. “Ethan Hall. This is Maddie Jacobson.”
Maddie shook his hand, and they all headed into the stables. Horses stood in individual stalls fanning their tails against the heat. The animals paid little attention to the three as they walked past. At the far end of the building Blake opened the door to a glass-walled office. Ethan and Maddie followed him inside.
“This heat is oppressive,” Blake said.
Each of their faces was covered in perspiration from the short walk.
“Coffee or water?” Blake asked.
“No thanks,” Ethan said.
Maddie shook her head.
“Take a seat.” Blake pointed to the couch. He sat on an end chair and reached for the pack of Saratoga cigarettes on the coffee table.
“Mind if I smoke?”
