Nightstorm and the Grand Slam by Stacy Gregg Page B

tears. It wasn’t just the fact that Victory was one of her best horses. Or that she had been planning to prepare him for the Burghley Horse Trials in four months’ time for the final phase of the Grand Slam. Issie’s grief wasmore heartfelt. She adored the horse and couldn’t bear the fact that her performance in the arena today would be the last time she’d ever ride him.
    Victory was standing at the door of his stall when she arrived. The brown gelding let out a friendly nicker at the sight of her and Issie felt her heart breaking all over again. He had tried so hard for her in every way over the past three days. How was he to know that his incredible performance would actually mean he’d be taken away from her?
    She reached out a hand to stroke his velvety muzzle.
    â€œHey, boy,” she whispered softly. “You did real good out there today. I’m so proud of you. And I want you to know that this isn’t my decision. But I can’t stop…”
    Victory suddenly jerked his head up. He could hear voices in the corridor. There were footsteps on the flagstones, coming their way. Issie looked up and saw Tulia Disbrowe walking with two men. She recognised one of them. He was a groom here at the stables and he carried a halter in his hand that was clearly intended for Victory. The other man was deep in conversation with Tulia. He was dressed in a sharp pinstripe suit, and Issie figured he must be the head of the syndicate.
    There was something familiar about the other man. As he got closer he looked up the corridor and caught sight of Issie. He acknowledged her with a shark-like grin and in one crashing moment it dawned on Issie that she knew exactly who he was.
    â€œIsadora,” Tulia Disbrowe said. “I want you to meet the head of the syndicate…”
    â€œWe’ve met.” Issie said flatly, cutting her short.
    â€œIndeed we have,” Oliver Tucker said, still maintaining his bone-chilling smile as he locked eyes with the girl in front of him. “Isadora and my daughter Natasha were at pony club together.”
    Tulia Disbrowe looked taken aback. “Well,” she said, “isn’t it a small world?”
    â€œWay too small,” Issie said darkly.
    Clearly Tulia Disbrowe had no idea about the background of Victory’s new owner. She didn’t know that Oliver Tucker was a businessman who specialised in shady property deals – or that he had come unstuck when he had resorted to underhand tactics in his attempt to buy up the Chevalier Point Pony Club for redevelopment.
    In the wake of the scandal and the lengthy investigationsthat had followed, Oliver Tucker had packed his bags and his family and left New Zealand for England. Despite his bankruptcy, Oliver Tucker had somehow managed to secrete away enough cash to buy a very nice mansion in Surrey. By all accounts the unscrupulous businessman still had many irons in the fire – including interests in the horse business.
    The oily entrepreneur still seemed to be able to charm money out of people and he had the backing of a syndicate who, naturally, wanted nothing but the best. Victory . It must have given Oliver Tucker no end of pleasure to know that in buying this horse he had also managed to hurt Issie. Oliver Tucker had harboured a vicious grudge against her ever since Issie had blown the whistle on his Chevalier Point property scam. If Oliver Tucker was looking for revenge, there was no better way to exact it than by taking away her horse.
    â€œWell, Tulia,” Issie said, “I hope you realise that you’ve sold your horse to a bankrupt. The last time I heard, Oliver was being investigated for fraud.”
    Oliver Tucker’s smooth demeanour wasn’t even ruffled.
    â€œMy personal wealth has nothing to do with this,Isadora,” he said with a strained attempt at affability. “This is syndicate money that we’re talking about. The investors who are