Night Mares in the Hamptons (30 page)

That would be hard to do in this instance, because what Louisa proposed was a show of exhibition horsemanship, an extravaganza of a fundraiser.

“We could hold it at the school football field, which already has bleachers and lights.”

Obviously, she did not know that the athletic department's portable lights were at Grandma's farm.

“And we can borrow more stands from the county. We'd charge a good amount, but let kids in half-price, and give a discount for locals and seniors. But we can have a special section for patrons and donors, at luxury box seat prices. And a hospitality area to sell refreshments, souvenir T-shirts, that kind of thing.” She looked at the hat in Ty's lap. “And cowboy hats. Definitely cowboy hats.”

Dante jumped on the bandwagon. “The vineyards like to support big events. I bet we can get them to donate the wine in exchange for a sponsorship banner. Major corporations like to be sponsors, too. It's great publicity and generates a lot of goodwill, and makes a perfect tax write off.”

“And the restaurants always give us platters of food for free or at cost. We sell advertising in the program, and appeal to the heavy hitters who summer out here. A great show for a great cause. Who wouldn't kick in a nice piece of change to support a worthy charity that saves land from development, creates jobs, and rescues horses from death row?”

No one who wants to do business in this town, I calculated, or with Dante.

He said he knew horse lovers, too, and a lot of people to call on for help. His own foundation had ten employees he could get working on the event in half an hour. “We could make a bundle in one night.”

Ty ran his finger over the band on his hat, not looking at me. “But I can't stay here forever.”

“Hey, you're talking about my wife and my staff. Given a month, they could plan a coronation.” He waved one hand around to indicate the arts building and the community center. “She got this place built almost overnight, didn't she?”

I thought it took almost a year before the whole complex was finished, but I didn't say anything.

Dante was certain they could get the show going in a week or so.

Louisa laughed and said they better make it two or three weeks, to round up all the contributions and get the printing done.

I knew I'd love to see Ty and Connor perform, rhinestones and sequins and all. Watching them exercise the horses was impressive enough; seeing an actual exhibition of their skill ought to be mind-blowing. Especially knowing the star was my very own lover. Me, Willow Tate, with a real hotshot performer. Who would have thought it? Maybe then people would forget about the lake incident when I was a teenager. The problem was, I wasn't sure about filling the seats with the art gallery and charity ball crowd. Would they really pay to see a couple of horses do circus or rodeo tricks? What if no one came to see the show? How mortifying for all of us, but Ty especially.

“They'll come,” Dante assured me. “Everyone with a kid, everyone interested in saving the land or horses. Think of the Hamptons Classic Horse Show and how huge their attendance is. The polo crowd. The environmentalists, the animal protection people. And you're forgetting how famous our man is. Besides advising the Olympic equestrian team and anyone else with high-strung horses, he's headlined in Las Vegas and filled Madison Square Garden.”

He did? It never said that on his website. I slept with a guy who had his name in lights? I would have bought nicer sheets.

“No, we were part of an American Lipizzan show, that's all. And Paloma Blanca is the star, not me.”

And he was modest besides. Then he turned and asked my opinion, which felt good near my heart, that he cared about my views. “What do you think, Willow?”

I thought I'd expire from pride, but what I said was, “I think the townspeople can use the event, even if the ranch thing never happens. They're losing tourism money and everyone's nerves are frayed. The only thing I worry about is what if. . .” I was reluctant to discuss the night mares in front of Dante and Louisa. The Riveras weren't part of that phenomenon, and I didn't want to try to explain the paranormal to, well, to normal people.

Ty understood. “That's what I was thinking about, too. What if.”

Dante didn't quite understand, but he tried: “What if they don't catch Snake's killer by then? There's safety in numbers, and we'll have all kinds of security. But I have confidence the shooter was from out of town, just using the ranch as a transfer station for the drug trade. We need to show the world that Paumanok Harbor is safe. No gangsters, no serial murderers, no weird hauntings or bad air.”

Ty and I both knew any of that was possible. He looked at me. “You live here, I don't.”

I thought about it. We ought to know soon if the mares were truly gone. And the lights would help protect the crowds. Most of them wouldn't be affected by the emotional sendings anyway. “It would be nice for the locals to have something to smile about.”

He nodded. “I'll talk to Connor.”

Louisa said she'd get started on the publicity and donor lists.

Dante took on the town, the county, and the corporations.

Ty stood and took my hand. “Sounds like we're doing a show, sweet pea.”

“We? I don't have anything to do with it.”

Louisa said, “Sure you do. You can design the programs. And a banner. We definitely need a banner at the entrance to town.” She pushed her pregnant body awkwardly from her seat. Dante smiled and came over to help her up, which made me happy for both of them, and a little jealous. Just a little, when I noticed how swollen her ankles were.

“Louisa, are you sure you're up such a big undertaking as this will be? I mean, you're
big
.”

She tossed her head. “This is nothing. And I've got months to go, so you don't have to worry about my whelping at the horse show. I will need your help decorating the tent, though.”

No one had mentioned a tent. “What tent?”

“For the VIPs. And the press. Maybe the Secret Service.”

“The Secret Service?”

“We may as well invite the Obamas and their kids. And the Clintons come out here sometimes. Dante contributed enough to their campaigns. Our senators and congressmen ought to appear. The county legislators, for sure, and maybe the governor, since they promised to help finance the land purchase if we could come up with the rest. Anyone who's running for office in November will show. And officials from the Nature Conservancy.”

Good grief. And here I thought I only had a missing horse to worry about. “What if it rains?”

Dante looked at me and raised one dark eyebrow. “This is Paumanok Harbor, isn't it? Have you ever known it to rain on a parade or a fireworks display or outdoor graduation?”

Well, no, but we didn't talk about it much.

“So we better get busy.”

Ty said he'd think about the ranch, but if Connor was willing, the show was on. He'd call in some favors and get a couple of his friends to perform, get someone else to provide calves or sheep to highlight Lady Sparrow's abilities as a champion cutting horse.

The American Lipizzan show was booked for the summer, so they were out. He'd notify some of his East Coast patrons, too, and the breeders and owners he'd worked with in the past. A bunch of them summered in the Hamptons, so they'd come and contribute generously if they wanted to hire his services in the future. He'd get his agent working on that, and publicity around New York City.

“And Connor was going to contact the local Native Americans. I don't recall their name.”

“The Shinnecocks, in Southampton,” I supplied.

“That's them. He heard they put on a big powwow in the summer and wanted to offer to ride for them if our schedule permitted. Maybe they'll come perform native dances.”

Now I worried that maybe the school ballfield would be too small. And where would everyone park?

Louisa was ahead of me. “We'll shuttle people from East Hampton High School and the airport, use the Lighthouse parking lots in Montauk, too. And if parts of it are clear by then, we can park cars right at Bayview, so people can see where their money is going.”

Dante and Ty thought that was a great idea.

I didn't. “What about the snakes?”

“Maybe we'll serve some up in the VIP tent.”

I hoped Dante was kidding. Ty thought the mowing would get rid of most of them, and Louisa didn't seem concerned at all. She was already onto the next problem of finding someone to sing the national anthem.

“I wonder if Billy Joel can sing it? He used to put on benefit shows in Montauk, him and Paul Simon. I think they're both around this summer. And I heard Jimmy Buffet rented a cottage near the beach in Montauk, so he could surf. Wouldn't that be a kick? Or maybe we want that kid from the high school that made the finals on American Idol.”

My head was starting to ache. Louisa and Dante seemed to be enjoying themselves, already making lists and writing down phone numbers. And Ty was grinning. I guess he liked being a star, too.

All I knew was that the guy was way out of my league.

O
UT OF MY LEAGUE OR NOT, it was my hand Ty was holding when we got up to leave the Riveras to their planning.

Louisa called us back. “I forgot. Do you think you could start your YA creative writing course here next week instead of in August? I hate to ask, what with all the other stuff going on, but we've lost a bunch of our instructors this month. The poet was in a car accident. And the scriptwriter packed up and left town. Dante was going to substitute with his computer game workshop, but he'll be too busy raising money for the ranch deal and twisting arms for the event.”

“I'm not sure I'll be ready.” I had notes and lesson plans, but I'd never taught anybody anything before. I needed more time to prepare. Like a year or two. Teaching at the arts center sounded great when I volunteered. Not so great when I actually had to do it.

“Of course you will be ready. You're a writer and an illustrator. Show the kids what you do. I already have five of them signed up. I'll put the notice in the paper this week, and we'll get a bunch more when they see your name.”

“Yeah. Just like Paul Simon's or Billy Joel's.”

Louisa laughed. “The kids in the Brain Surfing summer program are too young to know those old-timers. They know you because Mrs. Terwilliger puts your books in the hands of every teenager who comes into the library. Even the younger ones see your books on the shelf under the ‘local author' sign.”

Ty nodded encouragement. “I think it's great that you're showing kids how to use their imaginations. I'd love to sit in on the course.”

I thought about all he was doing for the town, all he did for Connor's people and, of course, for the rescued horses. How could I refuse to put in a few hours a day for two weeks, especially after I'd agreed to do it? Louisa would be disappointed. Five kids would be disappointed. Ty wouldn't like me. That mattered, but, hell, I wouldn't like me. That mattered more.

I fiddled around finding my sunglasses in my tote bag. “I guess I can get it together. It's not as if I know what I'm doing anyway.”

Louisa clucked her tongue. “Show a little confidence, Willy. We all know you're an award winner. You'll be great. And look at it as a learning experience for you, too, as well as the kids. The next time you give the course you'll have it all down pat.”

I dropped the sunglasses. “The next time?”

“Sure. If it's the success I expect, we can offer it again at its scheduled week next month. I'm hoping some of our other teachers come back, though. They did sign contracts.”

“I didn't.”

“You didn't need to. I know you'd never let me down.”

Oh, boy. Guilt from a pregnant woman. I started for the door again. Ty and Dante shook hands, but then I remembered the Froeler girl and my promise to her. Damn, I seemed to be drowning in commitments.

“Do either of you know a family named Froeler? They have a daughter in a wheelchair.”

“I know them,” Louisa said, “but not well. We see them at fundraisers and at friends' parties. I've never felt the need or the desire to get to know them better. The mother's nice enough, I suppose. Skinny, pretty, and uptight. Younger than Willem. They say he married her for her dead husband's estate. I have no idea why
she
married
him
. I'd say he was authoritarian, but that might be typecasting from his German background. He's definitely patronizing.”

Dante said he'd played in a benefit golf tournament with Froeler once and bumped into him regularly down at Rick's Marina where they both kept their boats. They seldom did more than speak of the day's weather or the fishing.