“The deck’s stacked against me,” he went on. “If someone doesn’t get to the bottom of what happened here, my days are numbered. I know it. And anyone who can slaughter innocent, helpless horses can do anything.”

His mouth trembled and his eyes brightened with tears.

“Burning them alive!” he exclaimed. “What kind of monster could do something like that!”

“A very terrible monster,” I said. “And it seems there are many terrible monsters in the world these days. Can you tell me about the foal? The one I saw when I was at the scene? I assumed one of your horses somehow got away?”

“Windsong,” he verified what I expected as he wiped his eyes on his napkin. “The beautiful little fella. He’s actually a yearling, and he was born right on my farm, both parents were very valuable racehorses. They died in the fire.” He got choked up again. “How Windsong got out I have no clue. It’s just bizarre.”

“Unless Claire—if it is Claire—perhaps had him out and never got a chance to put him back in his stall?” I suggested. “Perhaps she had met Windsong during one of her visits to your farm?”

Sparkes took a deep breath, rubbing his eyes. “No, I don’t think Windsong had been born yet. In fact, I remember Wind, his mother, was pregnant during Claire’s visits.”

“Then Claire might have assumed that Windsong was Wind’s yearling.”

“She might have figured that out.”

“Where is Windsong now?” I asked.

“Thankfully he was captured and is at Hootowl Farm, where he is safe and will be well taken care of.”

The subject of his horses was devastating to him, and I did not believe he was performing. Despite his skills as a public figure, Sparkes could not be this good an actor. His self-control was about to collapse, and he was struggling mightily and about to succumb. He pushed back his chair and got up from my table.

“One other thing I should tell you,” he said as I walked him to the front door. “If Claire were alive, I believe she would have tried to contact me, somehow. If nothing else, through a letter. Providing she knew about the fire, and I don’t know how she couldn’t have known about it. She was very sensitive and kind, no matter her difficulties.”

“When was the last time you saw her?” I opened the front door.

Sparkes looked into my eyes, and once again I found the intensity of his personality as compelling as it was disturbing. I could not abide the thought that he still somewhat intimidated me.

“I suppose a year ago or so.”