Author's Note: It is with extreme anxiety that I post this latest chapter. The stakes are higher than ever, and I'm afraid things still aren't being made very clear, and suspects will still be plentiful. Reminder abusive comments will not be tolerated.

To the childless wife he gives a home, and gladdens her heart with children.

- Ps. 113

Chapter 8:

Hunter and the Hunted

Jack glanced up at the clock and pouted: it was three minutes to nine o'clock in the evening. An earlier announcement reminded all visitors of the approaching end to visiting hours for the day. His time with Lisa, in his opinion, had been all-too-short since she regained consciousness.

"I wish you could stay," Lisa said, even as she yawned, sleep threatening to overtake her. "Talking to the cops today still has me all wrung out."

"I know," Jack murmured. "I'm sorry you had to go through that."

"Jack, they had the audacity to suggest you might have had something to do with what happened to me," Lisa said, finally feeling comfortable enough to tell him. "They asked me about my will."

Jack grimaced, thinking about his own earlier bad dream. "I figured they would."

Lisa shook her head. "I tried to tell them there's no way my loving husband was capable of something like this."

"Thanks for that, Lis," Jack uttered, looking at her with great tenderness. She returned his gaze, thinking how lucky she was to have this wonderful man in her life. He held her right hand in his, gently massaging her knuckles with his thumb, making sure he avoided the I.V. lines.

Another announcement sounded now, insisting all non-staff make their exit as visiting hours were over.

"I guess this is goodnight," she said, reluctantly withdrawing her hand from his soothing grasp.

"But I'll be back tomorrow," Jack pledged as he stood to depart. "Maybe I can plan to stay overnight then, if they'll let me."

"Yeah? Promise?"

"I promise," Jack said, smiling indulgently. "I love you, Lis."

"I love you more, Cowboy."

He bent over her and kissed her lightly on the lips. He was rewarded by her smile of complete contentment. "'Bye," he whispered.

"'Bye," she answered, eyes already closing, but the smile lingered.

Jack waited for an elevator to reach his floor. With visiting hours concluded, non-staff activity on the unit had been winding down, and the corridors were fairly empty. When the elevator arrived, Jack stepped aside to let the single occupant—fully dressed in scrubs, surgical cap and mask—disembark. He stepped into the cab to descend. Jack nearly reached his parking lot level when he realised he had forgotten his hat behind in Lisa's hospital room. The thought crossed his mind to just leave it there for now; after all, it would be waiting for him tomorrow when he returned to see Lisa again.

No, he thought, head feels too bare. Plus, it would be another excuse to see his wife, even if it was for a few more seconds. He tapped the number on the display screen to Lisa's floor for the elevator to carry him back. So what if it was already past visiting hours? Surely they would not begrudge him this little errand.

"I forgot my hat," he said sheepishly to the nurse at the desk when he retraced his steps.

"Go on," she said with a knowing smile, waving him through.

Lisa had barely begun to drift off when she sensed the presence of someone else in the dim room. Probably another nurse coming for night-check, she thought sleepily. Things had reached a point where she simply let the hospital staff go about their business, whether it was checking her BP, temperature, I.V. lines, the pulse/ox machines, catheter, or whatnot. Sure enough, she could hear the sounds of the other person fiddling around with the medical machinery next to the bed. Next, her nasal cannula was gently removed. Without any warning, something soft yet unyielding dropped heavily onto her entire head, face and neck.

What on earth?! Lisa thought in panic, as her ability to draw a breath ceased completely. Something was suffocating her! Or was it someone?!

I can't breathe! Somebody help me! Her frantic thoughts screamed. She reached blindly for the call button, but it was not in its usual place by her side. Lisa next attempted to raise her right fist to combat this unexpected assault since her injured left arm would be too weak in this fight. Dull blows landed ineffectively on what she imagined might be her assailant's shoulder. She dug her fingernails uselessly into a large hand that was double-gloved. Whatever he was forcing down onto her face remained firmly in place. She tried to cry out, but her voice was totally muted by what she rightly guessed was a pillow. With her strength waning, Lisa desperately attempted to squirm away; the brute responded by leaning against her, using his body weight to keep her from escaping.

I need air! Lisa's already tortured lungs felt like they were burning. Pressure was building in her chest to intolerable levels. An awful stabbing sensation erupted in her left side without warning. Dizzying patterns of coloured blobs and flashes spun and swirled behind her eyelids like a kaleidoscope.

No! I can't die like this! Please, someone, anyone... please come now! Jack!

Blackness engulfed her as consciousness sank away.

The door to Lisa's room was unexpectedly closed when Jack arrived, causing him to wonder if there was some sort of private consultation or assessment going on between Lisa and her doctors. Odd for this hour, he mused. He gave the door a gentle tap just in case as he opened it. His eyes immediately fell on a nightmarish scene.

A man—dressed in the same scrubs and the same surgical cap and mask Jack had seen only minutes earlier on the elevator—was leaning over Lisa. Even from this vantage point, he could see the man was smothering her with a pillow. Not just smothering her; he was actively killing her.

Jack did not waste another second. A bellow of fury erupted from his mouth as he charged forward like a wild bull. His target barely had time to react, turning slightly in surprise at the sudden yell. From behind, Jack roughly locked his arm around the other man's neck to drag him away from Lisa.

His quarry delivered a swift elbow to the ribs, causing Jack to gasp in pain. His grip slackened. It was enough for the villain to break free and go on the offensive. Three hard blows landed in quick succession: first to Jack's gut, jaw, then his temple.

The old cowboy staggered back, bringing a hand up to cup the side of his aching head. Though he was hurting, a potent, blind rage continued to propel him towards this piece of scum who dared to harm his wife. Thankfully, he had a slight advantage in height and weight. First, Jack blocked another punch coming his way; next, he slung out a well-aimed fist of his own. With satisfaction, Jack felt his left knuckles connect solidly with the right cheekbone of the other man. Crunch! He followed with a right uppercut to the villain's chin, snapping his head back. An agonized grunt escaped his target's lips. Jack wanted to apply more damage, worked up as he was, adrenalin pumping through his veins. His initial yell of rage and sounds of their brawl, however, had begun to attract the attention of the staff, and the sound of scurrying feet and shouts outside the room put the attacker on alert.

"Code White! Unit 52! Code White! Unit 52!" droned a voice over the public address system.

"Outta my way, old man!" came the goon's muffled croak. He roughly shouldered Jack aside. Caught off-balance, Jack could not catch hold of him as he swept past to the freedom of the open door.

"Stop him!" Jack yelled hoarsely as he turned to give chase, but it was already too late. The other man was a good sprinter and had already disappeared down a hall to a stairwell exit. With dismay, Jack instinctively knew that by the time hospital Protective Services could converge on the unit, Lisa's attacker would be long gone.

Lisa! Was she okay?

"I need help in here, now!" he rasped, even as he rushed to her side. The pillow was still partially obscuring her head. Jack flung it aside to reveal a deathly pale face and blue lips just as three nurses bolted into the room.

"He-he was suffocating her with the pillow. I don't think she's breathing," Jack managed to gasp, horrified at the sight.

"Move aside!" Nurse Cheryl commanded.

Numbly, Jack managed to stumble out of the way, nearly tripping over his own feet.

This can't be happening... This can't be happening... The words beat through his brain cells on repeat mode while the nurses turned machines back on and checked Lisa's vital signs. He heard Cheryl call out "Code Blue!" and watched in disbelief as she began to administer CPR. The medical emergency in Lisa's room rang out over the public address system, bringing emergency staff hustling in with a crash cart.

"You'll have to leave," another nurse said, taking hold of Jack's arm. "Give them space. Let them work."

Jack allowed himself to be pulled out of the room, shock starting to overtake his senses as the adrenalin rush subsided.

Let her live, please! I can't... lose her... There was so much going on Jack lost track. Unidentifiable voices called out instructions.

"Charging!"

"Hands off!"

"C'mon, Lisa!"

Medications were administered. Machines whined and buzzed. Another stretcher arrived.

"Let's move!"

In a blur, the emergency team hustled Lisa's still form out of the room.

"Where-where are you taking her?" Jack called out to them. They paid him no heed and simply raced down the hallway towards a bank of elevators. He wanted so very badly to follow them, but Nurse Cheryl came to his side.

"She needs immediate surgery," Cheryl puffed, still catching her breath from her recent exertion. "Let them go."

"Surgery?!" he yelped, staring at her in stunned distress.

"She stopped breathing," Cheryl explained. "As a consequence, she went into cardiac arrest. We got her heart going again, but we think her lung re-collapsed. They're taking her to fix it."

"W-Will she be okay?"

"I don't know, Jack," Cheryl replied honestly, looking up at him with great sympathy. "I don't know how long she went without oxygen. There could be complications with her lungs. There could be irreversible brain damage. We just have to wait and see and let the doctors do their work."

Jack felt his gut clench and his fists tighten involuntarily, suddenly wishing there was something he could smash.

"Are you all right?" Cheryl asked, scrutinizing his face more intently now. "You were assaulted too, weren't you?"

"It's nothing," Jack muttered, rubbing his sore knuckles and working his jaw.

"Where did he hit you?" Cheryl asked in a tone that left no room for avoidance.

"Here, here, and here," Jack eventually admitted, indicating his abdomen, his jaw, and the side of his head.

"We should get you checked out."

"I don't want—" Jack protested, but she cut him off.

"Hey! You'll do your wife no favours if that guy gave you a concussion—or worse—a subdural hematoma when he hit you," Cheryl sternly pointed out. "Sit down here and don't move until I get a doctor. Understand?"

"Fine," Jack groused, recognizing the truth in her words. He sank into a chair, still unable to comprehend what had just happened.

That man tried to kill Lisa! If I hadn't forgotten my hat... if I hadn't come back... She would be... No, it was too awful to contemplate that tragic outcome. Even so, there was no telling if she would survive this second attempt on her life.

Overwhelmed, Jack put his head in his hands, feeling the tears come of their own volition.

Jack rebuttoned his shirt after having been checked over by a doctor fetched by Nurse Cheryl.

"Lungs sound clear," Dr. Kaminska said, pulling the stethoscope from her ears and pushing the vital signs monitor cart aside. "But your pulse is still rapid and your blood pressure is a tad high. I suppose that is to be expected after what you just went through. Do you take any regular medications, Mr. Bartlett?"

"Not really," he replied. "Only for angina. But I haven't had an attack in a long time."

"Do you have your nitroglycerin tablets with you now?"

Jack nodded.

"All right, I want you to take one right away if you start feeling any discomfort. Don't tough it out and don't delay."

"I won't," Jack said.

"Good. You're going to have some swelling and some ugly bruising for a little while after the punches you took, so please take it easy. If you start experiencing headaches, sudden increased pain or nausea and vomiting, I want you to come to Emergency immediately. All right?"

"All right. Thanks, Doc."

"You're welcome. I pray your wife pulls through," Dr. Kaminska said kindly. "What has happened here tonight is extremely outrageous and upsetting."

Jack merely nodded.

"Hospital security and the police will want to talk to you now," she added. "I told them no one was to disturb you until I had checked you over to make sure you were okay."

"All right," Jack said. "Send them in."

Parker Residence, Hudson

"Chief, there's just been another attempt on Lisa Stillman's life."

James Parker's eyebrows shot to the ceiling as this piece of news registered. "What?! Kavanaugh, what the hell happened?"

"Calgary's people were over at the hospital investigating. They're saying security video recording shows a guy dressed in scrubs getting off the elevator on the floor of her recovery room," Kavanaugh said. "Coincidentally, Jack Bartlett was just getting on the same elevator. Anyway, the scumbag's head and face were covered with a surgical cap and mask, so we have no facial details. He just breezed right into her room and no one batted an eye because of course he didn't look out of place. The only reason Stillman is even alive is because Bartlett back-tracked to retrieve his forgotten hat. Walked in and found the bastard trying to suffocate her with a pillow."

"Low-tech, but effective," Parker muttered in distaste, already making a move to get down to headquarters.

"Yeah. They got into an altercation. Bartlett says he grabbed the guy and got in a few good punches, but he took a few of his own. Security personnel were too late to nab him; he's still on the loose, but they think he fled on a motorbike."

"They 'think'?!"

"Hospital security cams around the time of the attack show the man dressed in the scrubs taking off on foot out of a south stairwell fire exit. He sprinted off through the parking lot and out onto Front Street. The next time they pick him up visually, it's on the traffic cams, and he's on a motorcycle. Unfortunately, they lost him once he was outside Calgary city limits, heading south. He must have turned off some country road somewhere and continued on to who knows where."

"Be impossible to track now," Parker lamented.

"They've issued a Canada-wide APB," Kavanaugh said. "We could get lucky."

"Yeah, right," Parker said, thinking how impossible it would be to find that particular needle in a haystack. "Is Stillman going to make it?"

"Last word is she was in surgery again," Kavanaugh said. "Her left lung re-collapsed in the attack. Time will tell if she'll pull through. If she does, I think we need to seriously look into some protection options."

"Agreed. Call the team back in and arrange a video conference with Calgary PD. Send them everything we have on the Stillman case so far, particularly the list of those investors. I'm on my way; we need to get to the bottom of this."

"Affirmative. See you soon."

Hudson Police Headquarters — 1:00 a.m.

"So, we're back to the targeted attack theory, then?" Kavanaugh asked.

"It would seem so," Parker replied. "And whoever it is, he's clearly not going to stop until she's dead."

"You know, I never liked Bartlett as our prime suspect, anyway," Patterson stated.

"Me, either, despite what he'd stand to gain with her out of the way," Kavanaugh remarked.

"The whole thing stinks, but not from the family," Parker declared. "I'm thinking it's got to be connected to this investors' group or her business life, and we need to find that connection before it's too late."

"The problem is we're not really turning up anything that would suggest a problem in her business life," Kavanaugh said.

"CRA audited her last tax season, though," another detective named Brian Benoit supplied.

"Yeah? They find anything fishy?" asked Parker.

"Nope. The only thing she was 'guilty' of was trying to sell a foreign property while trying to keep her business afloat here in Canada," Benoit said. "When the plan to sell the place fell through, she tried renting it. There were some seeming irregularities in her reporting of those rental revenues, but it was all sorted out."

"Yes, Jack Bartlett did mention that 'financial trouble' when I told him Lisa had been shot..." Parker said. "Time to talk to her staff and any business associates you can dig up, past and present. We need answers, and we need them fast."

"All right. We'll head to Fairfield Stables first thing in the morning to speak with her staff," Kavanaugh said.

"Good," Parker said.

Just then, the video call from the Calgary police went live, and Detective James Prescott's face popped up on the screen on the conference room wall.

"Thanks for taking the time out to chat with us, Detective Prescott," Chief Parker greeted the other man. "Any updates on the attack on Stillman?"

"Nothing past what we already know," Prescott said. "No hits on the APB, unfortunately."

"Anything shake out on your end with the list of the members of the investors' group we sent you?"

"As a matter of fact, yes," Prescott replied. "One of the names you gave us, 'Tanner Gunn'—we interviewed Gunn a year ago when the Barick murders took place. Lanny Barick and Tanner Gunn had some joint business interests at the time not related to their investors' group. Nothing raised any flags back then, but with the Stanton death and now these attempts on Stillman, we took a second look."

"Go on," Parker asked.

"We know Gunn was able to collect on an insurance policy when Barick died," Prescott said. "Now, before you get all excited, Gunn did have a valid reason for having that policy. The two of them had that shared business venture and had reciprocal life insurance policies. It's not unusual for this sort of thing to be in place so that if one of the business partners dies, the loss isn't so severe for the surviving partner."

"Right, 'insurable interest'," Parker said with a nod.

"Exactly. If Gunn had died first, Barick would have collected."

"Yeah, nothing really illegal about that, on the surface," Parker said.

"Right, but I'm waiting to hear back from one of my C.I.s who might have something that could be useful," Prescott said. "See, we had insufficient cause to dig deeper into Gunn's affairs a year ago, but now that all this has happened, we're digging deeper. And from what we're uncovering, it looks like he's been involving himself in some shady stuff."

Parker seized on this point. "How 'shady' are we talking?"

"We found out Gunn has been banned from every reputable casino in Western Canada," Prescott said, "and my informant thinks he's been frequenting some illegal gambling places in Calgary, Edmonton, and points in between."

"So Gunn has a gambling problem," Parker said. "Does he have a debt problem, too?"

"That's what we're trying to find out," Prescott answered. "There's some loan sharks a couple of my undercover guys are hoping to talk to."

"All right, keep us in the loop," Chief Parker said. "And thanks for doing the legwork on this angle."

"You're welcome," Det. Prescott said. "This hospital attack is our investigation, after all. We're of course very concerned about Ms. Stillman's safety."

"As are we. You think this guy is going to try again, don't you?" Parker asked.

"Undoubtedly," Prescott replied. "Whoever it was went to great lengths to stay concealed. This was no random attack."

"So what's your plan?" asked Parker.

"Given the seriousness of the situation, we believe desperate times call for desperate measures. I have a hunch about what's going on, so I'm recommending to my chief we place an immediate protection detail on Stillman if she pulls through tonight."

Parker nodded. "I was thinking the same," he said. "I only hope it will be enough. Now tell me more about this hunch of yours."

South Calgary Health Campus

"Tim, I need you to get up here to the hospital as soon as you can."

The sound of his ex-father-in-law's voice in his ear at this hour was not a pleasant one for Tim. "What? Why? What time is it?"

"Late!" Jack snapped.

"What's the matter?" Tim asked, Jack's tone making him change his line of questioning as concern for Lisa's well-being now replaced his irritation at being awakened. "I thought you'd be back home by now. Is Lisa okay?"

"Someone just tried to kill her, so no, she's not okay!"

"What?!" Tim exclaimed in disbelief. "Did you say someone just tried to kill her? Again?"

"Just get your butt down here, would you?" Jack implored. "I'll explain everything."

"Fine," Tim ground out. "All right. I can be there in about 45 minutes. You're lucky it's night so I'm not going to get stuck in traffic."

"Quit yapping and get moving!"

"All right! Hold your horses, I'm moving. Geez."

The news that Lisa had been attacked in her room meant the family at Heartland was on a razor's edge of anxiety. They all wanted to race out to the hospital in Calgary; Jack insisted it was enough for Tim to be there for the time being. After all, with visiting hours over for the night, they would not all be welcome to loiter in the hospital hallways.

While Lyndy slept in Katie's room, Lou, Amy, Ty, and Georgie decided to keep vigil together in the living room, silently waiting for any word, but it was an uneasy silence that gripped them. For that reason, everyone was startled when Ty's cell phone buzzed around 5:00 a.m.

Ty recovered quickly and looked at the screen. TIM. "It's your dad," he said to Amy and Lou.

"Hello, Tim?" he answered, rising from the couch as he did so. He listened carefully to the message being relayed by his father-in-law, making every effort not to let his emotions overtake him.

Three pairs of eyes remained fixed on Ty, each set trying to glean something—anything from his posture or his face that would tell them what was being discussed; anything that would tell them if they should prepare for the worst, or if they should be relieved.

"Thanks, Tim," Ty eventually said. "I'll tell them." He swallowed slowly and ended the call, slipping the phone into his pocket.

"What's going on?" Georgie asked with trepidation, unable to contain herself any longer.

Ty paused for a moment before responding, able only to speak a few words at first. "Tim says..."

"What?" Amy asked, eyes wide.

Ty blinked furiously. He felt his throat constrict, but knew he had to speak the news Tim relayed.

Georgie looked to be on the verge of tears. "Ty?" she whispered.

Somehow, Ty managed to get his mouth to sound out two more words:

"Lisa's gone."

With a cry, the teen fled up the stairs to her room. Lou was torn between wanting to comfort her daughter and dealing with her own emotions at this disastrous news.

"No," Amy whispered, feeling hot tears springing up beneath her eyelids. She leaned into Ty and he brought his lips to the side of her head, giving her a gentle kiss while wrapping his arm around her shoulder. No one said anything for several beats.

Lou finally broke the stifling, uncomfortable silence. "I should go up there," she said dully, staring up towards the loft. "I just have no idea what to say to her right now."

Lou tapped gently on Georgie's bedroom door. She could hear quiet sniffles coming from her eldest daughter, and her heart plummeted. Georgie always experienced emotions very deeply, usually expressing them openly and unabashedly.

"Georgie, honey, can I come in?" Lou softly called.

A muffled sigh and hiccup was the only response.

"I'm coming in," Lou said, ignoring the lack of verbal answer.

Georgie was sitting on her bed, legs drawn up, face buried in her arms.

"I'm a really horrible person!" Georgie exclaimed, raising her head to look at her mother.

"What? Why do you say that?" Lou asked, completely thrown by this unexpected outburst. "Georgie, what are you talking about?"

She came and sat next to Georgie, draping her right arm around the teen's trembling shoulders.

Georgie's tearstained eyes met Lou's. "When I first got here... when Clint let Jack be my temporary guardian... I..."

More tears flooded Georgie's eyes, as if she were recalling a particularly bitter memory.

"You what, Georgie? It can't be that bad," Lou said encouragingly.

Her words came tumbling out. "But it is, Lou! I said really terrible things to Lisa when she came to see Jack. All I knew was she was Jack's girlfriend, and I was mad because I thought she was going to make him spend less time with me, and I thought she was this rich, snobby, stuck-up lady. I was horrible to her, and I never told her I was sorry. I never got to take it back, and now..."

"Oh, Georgie..." Lou murmured. "Sweetheart, you have to know Lisa would have never held that against you. I've said horrible things to her, too."

"You have?" Georgie asked, in spite of herself.

"Oh, yes," Lou admitted with a sigh. "And if there's anything I can tell you about Lisa, it's that she was always quick to forgive... and she was usually the first to apologize. If she was ever upset at you for whatever it was you said, I'm sure she forgot about it a long time ago. She loved you, Georgie. She loved all of us. As if we were her own."

Speaking those words now, Lou felt a sudden void she had not experienced since hearing about Marion's death. It's like losing Mom all over again, she thought. Why did I never truly notice how much a part of this family's life Lisa became? Now she's gone...

Lou held her daughter even closer to her.

Fairfield Stables

"No!"

"Mr. Wilkes, I know this news comes as a shock," Det. Kavanaugh said as calmly as possible to Harry after his emotional reaction when told about Lisa. "I'm so sorry. You and the staff here at Fairfield have the sympathies of the entire Hudson police department."

Head groomsman and almost lifelong Fairfield employee Harry Wilkes raised his head from his hands. "How is this possible? I-I thought she was okay! I thought she was recovering after what happened! Now you're telling me someone got to her right in her hospital room last night?! How?!"

"That's what we're trying to find out," Patterson said in a soothing voice. "That's why we're here. It's vital we find out as much as we can about her life here at Fairfield as soon as possible. You can help us with that. Do you think you can answer some questions?"

Harry tried to compose himself even as tears spilled down his cheeks. "I'm sorry, I need a moment. Wait a minute, how is Jack? Is Jack okay? Does her sister—does Rachel know what's happened?"

"Mr. Bartlett is as well as can be expected, Mr. Wilkes," Patterson said gently. "I'm sure Ms. Stillman's sister has been notified."

Harry nodded and impatiently brushed aside the tears. "Sorry," he said again after blowing his nose. "This is so shocking and upsetting. I'm not sure how much help I can be, but of course I'll answer your questions. Anything to help you nail the bastard who did this."

"Thank you, Mr. Wilkes. We understand you worked for Matthew Stillman for many years before he passed," Kavanaugh began. "Then his daughter inherits Fairfield and steps in and makes massive changes to how things had been operating. Off the record: how was Lisa Stillman as a boss?"

Harry's eyes misted again, his gut clenching as he heard Kavanaugh use the past tense when referring to the woman he had watched grow up.

"Lisa... Lisa was a great boss," Harry gulped, swamped with emotion. "Not just to me; to all of us. Case in point: When she was going through a rough financial patch during the economic downturn a couple years back, she did everything she could not to lay off any of the staff, even though that's what her accountant recommended. I've known her since she was a wee little kid. She might have paid my salary, but Lisa was also a good friend. Everyone who worked for her would say the same thing. She could be demanding—it's a demanding business—but she was also fair."

Kavanaugh fired off a volley, calculated to catch Harry off-guard: "You said 'everyone who worked for her'. What about that jockey Lisa sacked about eight years ago?"

Harry fielded the question easily. "Who, Liam Comox?" A slight sneer crossed his face as he remembered the arrogant young man. "Never liked the guy, but Lisa saw potential in him. If there's anything she was guilty of, it would be that she was too generous with how many chances she gave someone; how much stock she put in them to be a better person. Anyway, last I heard, Comox went out East... Somewhere in Halifax or something like that. As much as I disliked him, I really don't think he had anything to do with this."

"And what about that manager—Laura Monson—who resigned last year under a cloud of controversy?" asked Patterson.

"Lisa wasn't even in the country when all that business with Shooting Star occurred," Harry said dismissively. "And Laura's decision to resign from Fairfield was her own."

"All right, level with us, Mr. Wilkes: did Lisa have any enemies in her business dealings? Disgruntled clients?" asked Kavanaugh.

"'Enemies'? 'Disgruntled clients'?" Harry echoed as he frowned, the furrows in his brow creasing deeply. "Not really. Fairfield is well-respected all over the world. Sure there have been clients who weren't happy with every single horse they ever bought from Lisa. But that's the nature of the business. Horses can come up lame. Winning potential isn't always fully realised. Like I said: Everyone loved Lisa. Well, that is to say... almost everyone..."

Kavanaugh looked at him sharply at this admission. "Explain."

Harry did not answer for a few beats, fumbling to find the right way to phrase the unsettling thoughts flitting through his mind. "Okay, it's not something we like to talk about," he began slowly, "but there are a lot of people out there who want to see horse racing go away. Permanently. They point to horse fatalities on the racetrack as reason enough to shut down the sport entirely. Fairfield has not been immune to that kind of criticism."

"And that 'criticism' you're talking about—anybody in particular been more than just a critic?" Kavanaugh queried.

There was a short pause while Harry considered the question carefully. "There was an animal rights group a while back," he eventually muttered, voice dripping with contempt. "Lisa got some nasty emails when one of her horses died in an accident on the racetrack. But it was an accident, pure and simple—not due to animal cruelty or mistreatment—not that any of it mattered to that particular group."

"Did Lisa report these 'nasty emails' to the police?" asked Patterson.

Harry frowned slightly. "I'm not sure. Maybe. She really didn't let that sort of thing get under her skin. Lisa loved those animals and she made sure they got the best care when they were at Fairfield. I just can't believe what's happened. Lisa didn't deserve this. I thank God her father isn't around anymore, because this would have killed him. I don't know what we're going to do... Lisa... you poor kid..."

"Mr. Wilkes, once again, you have our sympathies," Patterson said. "Thank you for answering our questions. I know this news has been very difficult for you."

Harry blew his nose again and nodded. "You're welcome. Is there anything else I can do?"

"Just a few more questions, if that's okay," Kavanaugh said.

"All right," Harry said, resigned to the fact the cops were still not finished. "Go on."

"Can you share with us what you thought about Lisa's marriage to Jack Bartlett? A man several years older, and significantly less wealthy than she was?"

"Wait, you think Jack had anything to do with this?" he exclaimed. "That's the craziest thing I've ever heard. From the times I've been able to meet him, he was nothing but devoted to Lisa. And compared to her ex-husband Dan, Jack is head and shoulders above. Lisa was never happier than when she got married to Jack. You're barking up the wrong tree, detectives. There's no way Jack Bartlett would hurt Lisa!"

Kavanaugh and Patterson exchanged a look. If there had been any lingering doubts as to Jack Bartlett's innocence, Harry had put them to rest.

"Is that all, now?" Harry asked, willing himself to calm down.

"That about covers our questions, Mr. Wilkes, but the last thing we need from you is access to all of Lisa Stillman's office files, computers and laptops, everything."

"I assume you came with a warrant?" he asked.

Kavanaugh showed Harry the document.

"Thanks," he said after looking at the judge's signed request. "Come with me. You take whatever you need if you think it will help catch the monster who did this."

"Chief, we've picked up Stillman's office PC and her work laptop along with a bunch of office files and correspondence," Kavanaugh said after dialing his boss' cell before driving off from Fairfield.

"Excellent. We'll get Benoit and the computer forensics team to go over Stillman's digital files and emails," Parker said. "See if they can come up with anything."

"We may already have a lead on that," Kavanaugh said. "Harry Wilkes says that 'Animals Have Rights Too' group had been sending Stillman some nasty messages, criticizing the horseracing industry."

"Oh, really," Parker said. "Looks like we need to find out if that animal rights group has been doing more than just sending 'nasty' messages critical of horse racing."

"You think they'd resort to murder to save the lives of a few horses?" Kavanaugh asked as he paused before buckling his seatbelt.

"I think people will resort to whatever means necessary if they think their cause is justified."

BREAKING NEWS

Shooting Victim Succumbs to Injuries After Brazen Second Attack

May 4, 2019

The Hudson Times—Online Version

Nadir Jutley

The motorist critically injured in a shooting on Range Road 292 has died. Calgary homicide detectives are actively investigating after the case took a dramatic turn last night at the South Calgary Health Campus. The victim, identified as notable Hudson resident Lisa Stillman, had initially undergone life-saving surgery, but was attacked in her hospital room by an unknown assailant. Attempts to revive Stillman by hospital staff were unsuccessful.

Police believe the killer managed to obtain a hospital ID access badge and entered the unit dressed as a medical professional. He escaped before hospital security personnel could apprehend him. Traffic cameras in the area appear to show the same man fleeing on a motorcycle. A Canada-wide APB has been issued.

Hospital administrators were not at liberty to comment on the incident due to the on-going nature of the investigation, but wish to assure the public that there is no current risk to patient safety.

Lisa Stillman was a well-known member of the local and international horse racing community. She was the owner and operator of Fairfield Stables, a thoroughbred breeding facility established by her late father, Matthew Stillman, in 1951.

She is survived by her husband, Foothills Rodeo Hall of Fame inductee Jackson Bartlett, one sister Rachel Stillman, nephew Benjamin Stillman, as well as numerous step-grand, and great-grandchildren.

Calgary Police are asking anyone with information to contact them immediately.

Email: nadir_jutley

Hudson Police Headquarters

It did not take long for Parker's team to uncover unsettling messages while combing through Lisa's email account.

"Look at this one, Chief," said Det. Benoit. "This must be the group Wilkes was talking about: a group calling themselves 'AHRT'.

"Yes, that's that group. I've heard of them before," said Parker.

"Yeah?" Benoit said, turning to look at his boss.

"They're small, but they have chapters all over the country, including one here in Alberta. Stands for 'Animals Have Rights Too'. They've had a few protests here and there; mostly at the racetracks and especially at the Calgary Stampede. A couple of their members once got into an altercation with some chuckwagon fans. But anyway, what does the email say?"

"See for yourself," Benoit said, swiveling the monitor around for Parker to read.

Re: STOP ANIMAL CRUELTY NOW!

Lisa Stillman: someone should make you run around in circles until you drop dead. or until you break both your legs and they have to put you down. wouldn't that be sporting? we would pay to see them euthanize you and everyone else like you in the horse-killing business. you're all sick and what you do to horses is loathsome. you know what you are doing is wrong. you breed these animals to such extremes that it is no longer natural. you force them to race when you know their legs cannot tolerate the stress. they die painful and unnecessary deaths. and it's all your fault. we're warning you: leave the horses alone. stop the barbaric practice of horse breeding for racing, or face the consequences!

-AHRT

"What do you think? Sounds like a threat to me," Benoit said.

"But nothing specific, aside from that vague 'or face the consequences' bit," sighed Parker. "I wish Stillman had reported this when she received it."

"Hey, you guys, you'll want to see this!" Kavanaugh called out to the team. "This is the latest entry from the AHRT Blog. As in they just posted it. It's pretty chilling."

ANIMALS HAVE RIGHTS TOO

A Blog

Date: May 4, 2019

Someone's Offing Rich Horsey People. We Ain't Even Mad.

Don't get us wrong. Of course it's not cool when some gun-crazy lunatic goes on a killing spree. But when his victims happen to be the very people who contribute the most to the unchecked cruelty towards horses? Well, let's just say we're not shedding any tears.

The first was Valerie Stanton, owner of Briar Ridge Stables in Hudson in the province of Alberta, Canada. Now she was a piece of work. Rumor has it she once sold her own daughter's prize jumper to slaughter. He barely avoided the meat truck, but that's just the tip of the iceberg. Former Briar Ridge Stables staff and trainers report Stanton was abusive and would flip out over the slightest problems and mistakes. She was known to use whips on horses that did not clear jumps. Anyway, she won't be using whips any longer because some generous soul put Stanton out of her misery with a well-placed bullet.

The latest offender to take a much-deserved dirt-nap is Lisa Stillman, owner of Fairfield Stables, also of Hudson, Alberta. You'll remember this particular piece of horse-murdering scum. It was her horse Pioneer that had to be put down at Century Downs a few years ago. These bloggers personally warned Stillman numerous times about the dangers of breeding thoroughbreds to the point that their legs are so spindly they can't run a quarter-mile without breaking a foreleg. She of course completely ignored everything sent her way, choosing instead to risk the lives of innocent animals, all for the allure of a big prize purse and fame. Stillman won't be chasing after blood money ever again after a couple bullets flew her way. We're pretty sure one went straight through her cold, dark heart, and the other went through her thick skull. (At least something finally did!)

Oh, in case you needed any more proof of Stillman's proclivities and the kind of company she kept, here's an undated picture of her at Santa Anita with Riley and Elspeth Penfield. The Penfields are another couple of royal snobs who fancy themselves horse racing experts. Yeah, so expert that every race horse they've ever owned came in nearly dead last, and as a consequence ended up dead in the glue factory.

You're all of course familiar with Santa Anita, where it's "abandon all hope, ye who enter here"—if you happen to have four legs, a tail and a mane, that is. Over a dozen horses have met grisly deaths at Santa Anita within the past 10 years. They should switch around the order of a few letters in "S-a-n-t-a" and get a much more appropriate name for the place, if you get the drift.

Anyhow, we salute you, whoever you are, for making this world a safer place for equines everywhere; at least those in Hudson. You deserve an award for your service.

-AHRT Staff

"Disgusting," Patterson said with a shake of her head.

"What I wanna know is how these 'AHRT Staff' writers knew those details about Stillman's shooting," Benoit observed. "We made sure the media never specified."

"Could be a lucky guess, or even a little creative wishful thinking on their part, but you're right," Parker said. "It's a little too much of a coincidence Stillman was shot in the left side and the head. I want to talk to these people, Benoit. Get me some names and addresses. I have so many questions for them."

"Okay, we have some of these AHRT people in the system already," Benoit said after a few keystrokes returned the desired results. "Mostly public mischief stuff and some restraining orders. One, in fact, issued by Valerie Stanton a few years ago, like her son said."

"Names, please, Benoit."

"Coming up, sir," Benoit said. "We've got a Margot Gwyneth Carpenter of Red Deer, Alberta; Layton Luther Moffett of Calgary—"

"Layton Moffett?" Patterson repeated, looking at the picture of the man in question as Benoit flashed it on the TV screen. "Chief, he was on the scene at Lisa Stillman's shooting."

Parker glared back at her. "Are you certain?"

"One hundred percent, sir," she asserted. "He stopped his little orange Smart car along with some of the rubbernecking drivers that afternoon. The difference was he actually got out. Didn't get in the way, but was asking questions of anyone who would give him the time of day."

"Then it's possible he could have seen her injuriesfrom where he was," Benoit said.

"Possibly," Patterson replied slowly. "It would explain how the AHRT staffers knew where and how many times Stillman was shot so they could write it up for the blog entry."

"I still don't like it," Parker grumbled. "Let's bring Moffett in for a bit of questioning; find out exactly what he was doing out here and how much he knows about what happened."

Hudson Police Headquarters

Layton Luther Moffett appeared wary and alert when Chief Parker sat down with Detective Kavanaugh to question him two hours later.

After reminding the young man he was merely being questioned and that he was free to go at any time, Parker began to drill him.

"Do you recognize the name 'Lisa Stillman'?"

"Sure do," Layton said with a bob of his head, almost cracking a smile. "Heard she just died. Heard someone shot her and then someone attacked her in her hospital room. Guess someone really wanted her dead, eh? What is this world coming to?"

"What were you doing out on Range Road 292 on the afternoon of May 2nd?"

"I was out for a country drive," Layton said airily.

"No crime against that, of course," Parker said.

"Nope," Layton said. "You're going to ask me why I stopped on that drive, aren't you?"

"As a matter of fact, we are," Parker said. "Why did you stop?"

"Because there was a car accident," Layton said. "I know First Aid. I thought I could be of assistance. But the paramedics were there already, so it was all good. I mean, all good then. Obviously it wasn't 'all good' for Lisa Stillman once she got to the hospital."

Both Parker and Kavanaugh took note of his almost blasé attitude. He seemed almost pleased to talk about what he knew of Lisa's fate as a small smirk tugged at his lips.

"You live in the northwestern quadrant of the city of Calgary," Parker said, returning to Layton's reasons for lurking around Hudson. "Do you often take drives out to Hudson?"

"When the mood strikes me," Layton said with an air of indifference, peering at his fingernails.

"What do you know about a horse by the name of 'Herring'?" Parker asked.

Layton's glance shifted from his hands to Parker's face. "I heard Lisa Stillman was the owner," the young man finally answered after a few beats. "I heard he was hurt by a bear after..."

"After what?" Parker prompted.

Layton swallowed. "After that Valerie Stanton woman from Briar Ridge was shot dead."

"And what can you tell us about that, Mr. Moffett?" Kavanaugh asked.

"Only what I saw in the news," Layton replied, though the officers could see he was growing more nervous.

"Funny that," Parker said. "The name of the horse was never made public. Care to change your answer?"

Layton appeared instantly uncomfortable. "Okay, look," he said, squirming slightly. "Our staff occasionally pose as potential buyers for horses we think are at risk for abuse or the meat truck. Herring was one of those horses."

"Let's say for a moment we believe you," Parker said, humouring the man, "how did you find out it was Herring that was injured?"

"We just put two and two together," Layton replied. "I called the Fairfield office a few weeks ago saying I was interested in buying him. Look, the Fairfield website lists all its available stock for everyone to see. It's not a crime to look at horses on websites, is it?"

"No, it's not," Parker conceded. "Now get to the part where you know it was Herring!"

"I called Fairfield again yesterday," Layton said. "I said I had not forgotten about Herring and hoped Fairfield had enough safety precautions in place to prevent bear attacks from happening like the one I'd read about."

"So you were just fishing for information," Kavanaugh said.

"Yeah," Layton admitted. "And the man I spoke to told me all the horses at Fairfield were safe, but that unfortunately they could not control what happened to horses off-site, and that Herring had indeed been hurt. He was all apologetic, like I'd be upset I couldn't buy the horse right away and they'd lose out on a sale. It's always money with those people."

Parker and Kavanaugh exchanged a look. The story seemed plausible.

"Look, if no one there is concerned about that horse past what profits it can make them—"

"Enough with your posturing, Mr. Moffett," Parker snapped in annoyance. "We're not done questioning you."

Layton crossed his arms in sullen defiance. "What else, then?"

"We know Valerie Stanton had issued a restraining order against you and the other members of the 'Animals Have Rights Too' Alberta chapter. If we find out you've been in violation of that—"

"She's dead now, so why should it matter?" Layton smarmily interrupted. "But even when she was alive, I didn't pass within 100 yards of Stanton, or her horses, or her property after that bogus order was placed. I'm a law-abiding citizen who exercises his right to freedom of speech and freedom of expression. People like Valerie Stanton and Lisa Stillman get away with animal abuse all the time, and you people turn a blind eye. You waste your time threatening us with arrest when you ought to be investigating people like them for verifiable crimes against innocent animals."

"Are you done?" Parker asked, unmoved by Layton's impassioned speech.

"Yeah," Layton mumbled. "Can I go, now? I haven't done anything wrong, and I certainly didn't shoot Valerie Stanton or Lisa Stillman, if that's what you're really wondering. I don't even own a firearm."

"We already knew that," Kavanaugh said, "but thanks for saying so."

"One last question, Mr. Moffett," Parker said.

"What?"

"You were driving into Hudson when Lisa Stillman was shot," Parker said. "Do you recall passing someone on a motorbike heading in the opposite direction?"

"Maybe," Layton said.

"Yes or no, Moffett!" Parker barked.

"Look, I read the papers," Layton eventually said. "I know you were looking for a guy on a motorcycle as a 'person of interest' in the shooting, or whatever. And you know what? Yeah, I did see a guy on a motorcycle when I was driving in to Hudson that day. But that's all I'm going to tell you, because quite frankly, whoever that guy is? He's a hero for trying to take out Stillman. He deserves an award."

"Kavanaugh, get him out of my sight," Parker growled in disgust. "I don't want to see you in Hudson ever again, Mr. Moffett, do I make myself clear? Now get out of here!"

TBC (I promise)