TITLE: Oh, Sweet Revenge

AUTHOR: AnaDi

SUMMARY: DYD&F represent a man suspected of arson at a prestigious racing stable.

DISCLAIMERS: If they were mine, I'd keep Bobby for myself. The Morley brand name was borrowed from another TV series. Hopefully, the honored and revered Misters Kelley and Carter won't sue me for use of their brainchildren.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Shadowbrook Farm is my dream farm brought to life. The views expressed by Lindsay in part one are very similar to my own views on the subject.

This is a challenge piece. It will be written in five parts, with a new element introduced in each. Thanks to Deb for the elements.

heehee

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Oh, Sweet Revenge: Part One

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"Arson," the press crowed. Cameramen followed avidly when the arrest was made. The hallway was chaotic as reporters and cameramen tried to shove their way to the front of the crowd that gathered as Daniel Clark was led to prison. The reporters shouted questions to the passing prisoner.

"Don't say a word, Daniel. Don't talk to anyone!" His attorney advised. A microphone was shoved under his nose. "We have no comment at this time," Bobby Donnell snapped to the media, and said no more.

The little TV in the office of Donnell, Young, Dole and Frutt flashed back to the anchorman on the news show. "Mr. Clark is being held under suspicion of setting a fire in the barn of Shadowbrook Farm, a prominent Thoroughbred racing stable on the outskirts of Boston. Analysts determined that the fire was started when a burning cigarette was left in the hayloft. Though most of the horses were saved, four valuable champions were killed, including Breeders Cup winner Milky Way." The screen flashed again, to a teary-eyed woman who was identified by the caption as an assistant trainer at the farm.

"Accident or not," she said, trying hard to control her anger, "Any idiot knows not to smoke in a barn, especially in the hayloft!"

"Mr. Clark was the farm manager for over twenty years, one of few staff members kept on since the farm came under new ownership. The owners could not be reached for comment." The anchor concluded his report. Rebecca switched off the television.

"Oh, man," Eugene murmured, "Talk about a high profile case." The others echoed their agreement. Lindsay glanced at the digital clock on her desk.

"I have no idea what Bobby's schedule is for the rest of the day," she commented, "But if he comes back here someone send him home to eat. It's getting late and I have to go pick up Robbie." Her voice held a trace of venom.

"You sound pissed," Lucy put in tactlessly.

"I am," Lindsay admitted. She paused. "But not at Bobby. It's just that I love horses. I grew up riding, and even had a Thoroughbred. I don't like that we're defending a horse killer."

"So you think he did it," Jimmy commented.

"I didn't say that, and I have to go," Lindsay pointed out.

"She did too," Jimmy muttered.

She steered her Camry out of the parking lot into the hectic rush-hour traffic of downtown Boston. Soon out of town, the scenery gave way to pretty neighborhoods. Lindsay was incredibly grateful that Robbie could stay with his friend Eric, whose mother ran a small after-school play group for the kindergarten class at the Catholic school. She parked the car in the driveway and walked around to the back. Jenny saw her coming and waved. Lindsay thought to herself how tired Jenny always looked. But then, one kindergartener was enough to keep anyone's hands full; imagine taking on five of them!

"Hi," Jenny said breathlessly. "Sorry. I've been chasing Eric around all afternoon, trying to get him to change his clothes. My brilliant son decided to climb a pine tree with his school clothes on! Do you know how to get sap out of khaki pants?"

"I don't," Lindsay admitted, "And I hope MY brilliant son didn't decide to follow!"

"Hi, Mommy!" Robbie trotted up happily.

"Hey kiddo! Have fun today? Where's your backpack?" He pointed to a bench on the patio. "Run and get it, OK, sweetie?" He obliged. Lindsay turned back to Jenny. "Was he good today?"

"I don't know your secret, but he is the best-behaved kid of the group!" Came the emphatic reply.

"Who is the worst?"

"The two girls. I remember being their age. I was probably just like them. The girls are the ones who always argue. My sisters and I did, endlessly."

"I don't know. I grew up playing with my brother and his friends. There weren't many girls my age in the neighborhood, and I didn't like the ones there." Robbie skipped back, his Pokemon backpack on his shoulders. "Well, kiddo, let's get going so we can figure out what to feed Daddy when he gets home."

"I saw Daddy on TV today!" Robbie chattered.

"Really" Lindsay murmured.

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To Be Continued

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The element in part one was: A burning cigarette.

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