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The Hayley Argent Mysteries, Books 1 - 4




  Contents

  Hayley Argent Cozy Mystery Series

  The Swallow’s Storm

  Copyright © 2017 Ruby Loren

  Grab your FREE copy of

  INTRO

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  The Starling’s Summer

  Copyright © 2017 Ruby Loren

  INTRO

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  The Falcon’s Frost

  Copyright © 2017 Ruby Loren

  INTRO

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Special Thanks

  The Waxwing’s Winter

  Copyright © 2017 Ruby Loren

  INTRO

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  Grab your FREE copy of

  A review is worth its weight in gold!

  Hayley Argent Cozy Mystery Series

  Books 1 - 4

  The Swallow’s Storm

  Ruby Loren

  Copyright © 2017 Ruby Loren

  Grab your FREE copy of The Lavender of Larch Hall!

  Simply click on the link and let me know where to send your free book:

  http://rubyloren.com/lavender-of-larch-hall-free-book/

  INTRO

  The swallows were dipping low when Taylor Jones led his horse out of the stable yard. He felt the heaviness of the air and when he looked up to the heavens, he could see purple thunderheads rolling over one another. It was obvious that this summer storm was going to be a big one.

  He didn’t have much time.

  Taylor swung himself into the saddle, without needing to use a mounting block. The smell of worn leather and fresh hay hung heavy in the air, mingling with the foreboding pressure of the storm. His calloused hands gripped the reins and despite only just being clear of the stables, he nudged his horse into a trot.

  “Come on Molotov, we’ve got to give it a shot,” he said to the large, fluffy, white horse between his legs. The big animal automatically switched to a canter, as if understanding the urgency its rider felt. Or perhaps it was the electricity which crackled through the air, swirling around in the thick atmosphere of the summer evening.

  The wooden fence of the riding school came into view but Taylor didn’t bother to check Molotov’s speed. The horse cantered down the hill, ghostlike in the twilight, and sailed over the fence, his hooves kicking the sand into the air when he landed on the other side and kept running. An involuntary laugh of sheer wildness escaped Taylor’s lips and he moved with Molotov, shadowing his movements as rider and horse became one.

  “Let’s go… just one clear round, then we’ll be safe,” he said and the horse pulled forwards, racing towards the first jump. Taylor barely noticed them sail over the three red and white striped poles, and before he could catch a breath, they were onto the next obstacle - three jumps placed close together. Nothing was able to stop them tonight as they jumped clear, time after time. Taylor bit his tongue as they approached the final jump - a challenging false brick wall that often unnerved both horses and their riders. He could already tell that this was the fastest they’d ever run clear. There was only one more obstacle in their way.

  Molotov neighed with fright and reared up as another horse appeared in front of him. The horse’s legs kicked out, scoring a blow on Molotov’s belly that made him squeal in pain and surprise. The horse’s dappled grey coat was flecked with foam and blood. Taylor held on for dear life and could only watch as the runaway horse galloped onwards, clearing the boundary fence which Taylor and Molotov had so recently jumped themselves. Stirrups flapped uselessly and the strips of snapped reins whipped around as the big horse tore up the hill, heading for home.

  “Easy boy,” Taylor said to Molotov who calmed beneath his touch. All thoughts of beating their best time were gone from his head as he checked Molotov’s belly and found only a shallow graze where the other horse had kicked him. “Did that horse look like Hadrian to you?” He said to Molotov who nickered in response. Taylor thought about how wild he’d been when he’d run out of the woods that bordered the riding school. He looked like he’d gone completely mad.

  Something really bad must have happened.

  “Come on, we’ve got to get help,” Taylor said, nudging Molotov’s sides. The big horse sensed his urgency and jumped straight to gallop, clearing the fence again as heavy raindrops started to fall and the first growl of thunder made his ears go flat.

  They found Hadrian outside the stable building. His head was pressed flat against the wood and his sides heaved with each shuddering breath. It was only now Taylor was close enough to get a good look that he realised the horse was in a very bad way. His chest was torn open and the muscles and ligaments beneath were laid bare.

  Taylor slid off Molotov, keeping hold of his reins and moving slowly forwards towards Hadrian. He muttered soothing words as he approached, gently stretching one hand out before him as he got closer until finally he had hold of one half of the trailing reins. Hadrian’s ears flicked back and he tried to pull away, nearly yanking Taylor off his feet. Taylor held fast, glad to have Molotov there as an anchor and he was even more grateful when his big white horse moved in closer, helping him to herd the spooked gelding back into the stable.

  It was a relief when Taylor finally managed to close the stable door behind Hadrian and bolt it. Sadly, it didn’t last for long. As soon as the horse was in his stall he started kicking and Taylor heard wood splintering with the strength of the blows. If he didn’t do something soon, Hadrian would surely injure himself further and might even break a leg. Then that would be that.

  Taylor couldn’t help thinking that this horse might already be beyond help.

  The quiet evening he’d so enjoyed earlier was now turning into a nightmare. Rain lashed down outside the stable and there was no one in the usually busy yard.

  “Help!” He yelled, over and over again, praying that someone would come. He pulled his mobile phone from his pocket, his brain working at last and he dialled the riding school owner and then the ambulance, not knowing what else to do.

  “We’ve got to go out there,” he said to Molotov who was stood by him, as patient and willing as ever. “We’ve got to find Madison.”

  As they galloped out of the barn into the summer storm, Taylor could still hear Hadrian kicking the walls of his stall. Every bang like a gunshot.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Hadrian’s Wall

  Hayley Argent felt the ball of nerves build up in her stomach as she pulled up outside the Emeline Equestrian school. She ran a hand through her hair the colour of new hay and frowned at her too-cheerful blue eyes in the car mirror. Some very old family friends had contacted her to ask if she would be able to help them with a difficult situation and she’d found herself agreeing. Now she was here, she wasn’t so sure it had been a goo
d idea.

  Hayley called herself a horse psychologist. Mostly, she helped riders to bond with their horses and got to the bottom of bad habits and fears that affected both horse and rider. She was good at her job and had an excellent track record, but every now and then difficult cases came along, and she already knew this was one of those times.

  The horse she was visiting today should have been put down. At least, that’s what the vet had told the owners. They’d refused and since then, the horse had attacked anyone who tried to go near him. He also wore a halter with a rope on either side to limit his movement, so he wouldn’t start kicking through the walls again. This was both to stop damage to the stall and to the horse himself. Put simply, Hayley had her work cut out.

  She opened the gate and walked through, her heart beating faster than normal. A man in his twenties, who looked a similar age to her, walked past, leading a glossy chestnut gelding. “Excuse me please, could you tell me where I might find a horse called Hadrian?” She asked, putting on her best smile. The man turned towards her and she noted his dark, curling hair, curiously long eyelashes and a chin that was straight from a greek statue. He regarded her too for a moment and Hayley had the distinct impression that she hadn’t passed muster.

  “What do you want with the killer horse?” The man said, his voice a sneer. Hayley froze, her eyebrows stuck up high.

  “Killer horse?” She clarified and the man she was speaking to instantly brightened up.

  “You mean you don’t know? Hadrian was Madison’s horse. They went out for a hack through the woods before the storm we had the other week and he threw her off and broke her neck. Then he ran back home and turned into a basket-case.” The man shook his head, supposedly in regret but Hayley could see he was enjoying telling the story. “I don’t know what the Hamel-Torys, think they’re doing keeping that animal alive. It killed their daughter and now they want to keep it? Do they think someone will buy the beast?” He shook his head again, smirking. “There’s nothing you can do to change bad breeding. That horse should have been destroyed before it was broken in. Of course, the strength of the rider makes a huge difference too.”

  Hayley tried not to bristle but couldn’t help it. This arrogant young man was insulting her family’s friends and their deceased daughter.

  The daughter she hadn’t even known about.

  “How interesting,” she said, making sure her tone made it clear she thought exactly the opposite. “So… where is Hadrian?” She said, determined to get at least one bit of useful information out of this self-entitled brat.

  “He’s in the barn, disturbing all the other people’s horses. As if we needed more trouble around here. I’m just relieved that Coltrane’s Gold here is stabled in the more exclusive wing of the yard. I wouldn’t want anything to threaten our form for the competition,” he said, patting the chestnut on its neck before nodding curtly to Hayley and walking off. Good Riddance, Hayley thought although she did spare a moment to wonder what the rude man had meant when he’d said ‘more trouble’. Something told her she’d be finding out later…

  She’d worried that ‘in the barn’ wouldn’t be specific enough, but as soon as she entered the warm barn with the smell of hay and horse dust thick in the air, she knew where Hadrian was. She could hear restless hooves dancing across the hard floor and the snorting noise of a distressed animal. The back of her neck prickled even before she saw him as she felt the horse’s terror. It was almost physically difficult for her to walk down the centre of the barn, but she walked until she reached the last stall on the right and looked in.

  She wasn’t even sure if it was right to call the animal she saw a horse anymore. He was ruined and broken. From a physical point of view, his chest was marred with stitches and open wounds where someone had evidently given up on the stitching. She could also see cuts all over his legs and gashes to his flank. She wondered how they’d been inflicted. Was it when he was found having run through the forest, or after he’d been put in his stall, only to try and tear through the walls?

  It was also very clear that the horse was psychologically damaged beyond anything she’d ever seen before. This wasn’t a pony with a hoof scraping problem, this was the horse equivalent of a human patient who needed to be locked up in a psychiatric ward. Hadrian’s eyes rolled white in his head and when she moved closer, he thrust forwards, gnashing his teeth and snorting wildly. She hadn’t known the horse before the incident, but there was no doubt he’d become a monster. “And it’s my job to try and turn you back into a horse,” she said to him, hearing her own doubts echoing in her voice. “I wish I had my magic wand on me.” Hayley tugged at a strand of her blonde hair as she wondered where she should even begin.

  She heard the clip clop of hooves and was grateful to be able to turn away from Hadrian. Another man with dark gold hair, who appeared to be in his early twenties, was leading a big, fluffy white horse into the stable. His mouth automatically curved up when he saw her and Hayley smiled back, her cheeks dimpling.

  “Be careful, he used to be okay but now… well, I’m sure you can see,” the man said and Hayley cast one last glance towards the ruined horse before walking towards the stranger.

  “Mr and Mrs Hamel-Tory actually asked me here to see if I could do anything to help him. I’m sort of a… horse psychologist, you see,” she said, her nerves from seeing a horse in such a bad way getting the better of her usually slick introduction. “I met a guy on the way in here who told me that the horse killed his rider.” She took a deep breath. “I always like to know the full story with cases like this and I was wondering if you happened to know more about what happened?” She hoped she hadn’t mistaken the kindness of the stranger. She could usually read people nearly as well as horses.

  The man loosely tied his horse to the metal ring and got out a bucket of grooming brushes.“I can’t say I’m surprised that the Hamel-Torys didn’t tell you about their daughter. I don’t think they've really accepted that Madison has gone yet.” He sighed and looked down at the curry comb in his hand. “A lot of people think they’re crazy for not putting Hadrian down and even I’m worried it’s more a cruelty than a kindness.” His blue eyes met Hayley’s and they held steady for a moment. This time she didn’t feel that she came up short. “But I believe in having faith, especially where horses are concerned, so if you think you can do anything to make him better, then I’ll do everything I can to help you.” He took a deep breath and pulled a burr from the grey horse’s mane.

  “I was the only rider at the stables when Hadrian came back,” he started and recounted how the horse had jumped into the riding school, kicked Molotov (who he showed her had a cut on his stomach) and then galloped away, completely crazed. “I put Hadrian in his stall, called for help and then I went to look for Madison. When I found her, I knew she was dead. Her head was…” He trailed off, his eyes full of pain. “Well, there was nothing I could do. She was gone.” He sighed and looked back at Molotov’s mane, his eyes unseeing. “She was great… Madison, I mean. She was always funny and bubbly. You should know that. She and Hadrian were perfect together too. He was always a bit of a wild ride and some riders at this school used to be pretty harsh and call him untamed and stuff like that but Madison loved him and I’m pretty sure he loved her too. I think they may even have had a shot at winning the Inter-Stable Competition.” The man lifted his head a little and Hayley wasn’t surprised to see his eyes were a little more watery than before. She was pretty sure hers were too.

  “I’m Hayley, by the way Hayley Argent,” she said, figuring it was a good idea to change the subject. The man rubbed a hand in his golden hair before putting it out for her to shake.

  “I’m Taylor Jones. From what you said about a guy telling you that the horse killed his rider, I’m guessing you had the misfortune to meet Mark.” His eyes darkened for a moment before his expression brightened again. “So, do you think you’ll be able to make Hadrian okay again?” He asked and Hayley half shrugged, a sorry smile on her f
ace.

  “I’ll do my best but I will admit that he is in a very bad state. It’s going to take a while and it might all be for nothing.” She took a deep breath. “But I want to try.”

  “I’m glad to hear it,” a deep voice said and the pair turned to see a well-dressed couple walk into the barn.

  “Mr and Mrs Hamel-Tory!” Hayley said, walking forward to shake their hands.

  “Please, it’s David and Marjory,” the lady said and Hayley smiled a little bashfully. The Hamel-Torys were her parents’ friends and she’d only ever seen them from a distance at a couple of social occasions. It had been a surprise when her parents had contacted her with their request.

  “I was just asking Taylor about what happened. I’m so sorry about your daughter, Madison,” she said and it was as if a dark cloud passed over both the Hamel-Torys faces.

  “We know she wouldn’t have wanted us to just give up on Hadrian. She loved that horse and she’d want someone to ride him and love him, just the way she did,” Marjory said and Hayley nodded.

  “I completely understand and I promise I will do everything I can to help him, but I can’t guarantee, well… anything,” she said, feeling like some kind of a fraud. She’d had a lot of success during her career, but horses had personalities just the same as people did and some were as unable to change as their owners.

  “That’s all we’re asking,” David said and then his expression changed to more serious. “I’m sure our horse rescuer Taylor has told you all of the details as they happened, but did he mention the horse hair?” Hayley noticed Taylor immediately look at the ground as if uncomfortable as David continued. “When the scene was examined a chunk of very pale, yellow horse hair was found. It’s possible that there was a fight and Hadrian did some damage to the other horse. I’m sure you can see why we’d be very interested in talking to whoever was riding the other horse, if there was another horse present when Madison fell.” His eyes flashed with steel and Hayley understood why Taylor looked so unhappy. Madison’s parents wanted someone to blame.