One Hoof In The Grave [Carriage Driving 02] by Carolyn McSparren Page B

might not be in for days, possibly a week. Tox screen and DNA results would take longer.
    If Raleigh had been drugged, or if there’d been blunt force trauma, he’d have been easier to get down on the ground. The ME hadn’t noted bruising on the skull in his initial exam, but if the skin wasn’t broken, and there was no blood, he wouldn’t necessarily have seen anything at the scene. The bruises wouldn’t show up on the skull until he’d removed the skin.
    “Agent Wheeler?”
    He looked up, realized he’d let his mind wander. “Sorry. I’m told you assist in your father’s development company.”
    She snorted like an annoyed mare. “Assist, my ass. I have a Wharton MBA, and I’ve been going to the office with my daddy since I could walk. I don’t assist . I run the business, and I plan to continue running it.”
    “I thought you were going to run this place.”
    “That too. Most of the time I can work from here. When necessary, I drive to Atlanta. One thing my daddy could do was pick staff. My barn manager Martin Brock handles the day-to-day operations, oversees the staff, and has for fifteen years. Daddy fired him at least once a week, but knew he couldn’t get along without him. They go way back.”
    Changing tack, hoping to catch her off guard, he asked, “Why do you think your father was such a bastard?”
    “I beg your pardon? Is that a proper question?”
    “Everyone I’ve met says he was an SOB, including you. Has he always been like that? Must have made for an interesting childhood.”
    She sank back, put her booted feet onto the coffee table—a polished slab of old-growth walnut tree—and thought for a minute. “People who knew him when he was just starting out say he was always tough and willing to do anything to get what he wanted, but he wasn’t mean, not the way he got later. We used to have good times, family times. Then when I was eight, momma got breast cancer. She was dead in six months. I don’t think Daddy ever got over it.”
    “He loved her?”
    “Yeah. I think he maybe actually did.” She waved a hand. “I don’t know if he’d have kept on loving her if she’d lived. It’s easy to love a memory, but nobody ever measured up to her. He was too damn mad at her for dying to grieve for her, so he nailed every female who’d lie still long enough. Trying to replace her, I guess. My first unofficial stepmother lasted less than six months.”
    “Where is she now?”
    “In Hawaii on a sugar plantation with a richer man than Daddy and three kids. Daddy didn’t legally remarry until Sarah Beth.”
    “Why did he marry her ?”
    Dawn laughed. “Have you looked at her? She’s sweet and smart and good-natured, and until he got ahold of her, she was happy. That’s another thing, he liked to go for women who were happy, at least on the outside. Women in good marriages or relationships. Then he’d love ‘em and leave ‘em as miserable as possible. That was my daddy. Good ole Giles.”
    “You have excellent insights,” Geoff said.
    “My MBA is in finance. I had a double major at Emory. Business admin. and psychology. Four point oh in both, by the way. I hoped I could figure out my life and fix it, then make my own fortune. So far it hasn’t happened, but I’m working on it with Armando.”
    “I’d like to speak to Mr. Brock. Do you know where I could find him?”
    “Sure. He’s in the carriage barn.” She stood. “Far end of the stable. Trust me, if Brock wanted to kill Daddy, he’d have done it years ago.”
    Martin Brock was tall, thin, and looked as though he worked out. He had a shock of gray hair, weathered tan skin, and the easy grace of a cowboy. Geoff guessed he had to beat women off with a stick.
    “Mr. Brock,” Geoff called. He extended his hand as he walked to meet the man. “I’m Geoff Wheeler of the GBI. Can we speak? I have a few questions about Mr. Raleigh’s murder.”
    “Can’t it wait? I’m busy. I got axles to repack.”
    Geoff raised an