ISBN: 9780373199259

Monday, January 5 "It's no good," Brent Preston said sharply at his brother's entrance. "I've hit a wall in this investigation." "That bad?" Andrew inquired. He poured himself a cup … More...

Monday, January 5 "It's no good," Brent Preston said sharply at his brother's entrance. "I've hit a wall in this investigation." "That bad?" Andrew inquired. He poured himself a cup of coffee and sat at the marble counter in the middle of the family's country kitchen. Brent had gone over everything in his mind and on paper a hundred times, and still he came up without answers that made sense. He swept a hand over his face and turned to his brother. "Dammit, I don't know what the hell went wrong. That breeding went like scores of others I've arranged and supervised." Andrew regarded him sympathetically. "No one's blaming you." Like hell they're not. And even if they aren't, I am. I was in charge. Last spring, three-year-old Leopold's Legacy had become the star racehorse at the family's Quest Stables, winning the Kentucky Derby, as well as the Preakness. The stallion appeared to be on his way to taking the Belmont Stakes and the Triple Crown, as well, but even without the Triple Crown, Leopold's Legacy would garner enormous stud fees. Then a computer glitch at the Jockey Association prompted a call for a certain group of Thoroughbreds to have their DNA resubmitted. No big deal. Until the results came back. Then all hell broke loose. According to the new DNA test,Apollo's Ice was not the sire of Leopold's Legacy, as the registration papers stated. Even worse, no one knew who the sire was, since the DNA didn't match that of any stud in the Thoroughbred file. The Jockey Association wasn't interested in how the mix-up had occurred; their sole concern was that the provenance of the horse was not what it was purported to be. Leopold's Legacy was pulled from the Belmont Stakes and Quest Stables was given three months to solve the discrepancy. When they were unable to do so, all Thoroughbreds majority-owned by Quest were banned by local and regional racing commissions from competing in North America. An international ban soon followed. Almost overnight, revenue dropped by half as owners pulled their horses from the stables. Andrew idly stirred his cup. "Listen, Brent, most of our clients will come back." "Maybe," his brother allowed, " if this DNA debacle can be solved soon, and if it's cleared up without prejudice. But a prolonged investigation or proven fault on the part of Quest, and on me" He let the words fade as he gazed toward the wall of windows looking out on the winter garden. Its bleakness matched his mood. "If there's no resolution at all, it'll be the end of Quest." He let out a long breath. "When I think about what Granddad has created, all his hard work, his love, his passion when I think of it being wiped out in his own lifetime because I was too damn blind to know when I was being taken I'm the head breeder. I witnessed the live cover. What are people supposed to think?" "Look," Andrew said. "As manager of this place, I can tell you we're not going to fold. It's just a ma Fiction Fiction eBook, Harlequin<

ISBN: 9780373199259

Monday, January 5 "It's no good," Brent Preston said sharply at his brother's entrance. "I've hit a wall in this investigation." "That bad?" Andrew inquired. He poured himself a cup … More...

Monday, January 5 "It's no good," Brent Preston said sharply at his brother's entrance. "I've hit a wall in this investigation." "That bad?" Andrew inquired. He poured himself a cup of coffee and sat at the marble counter in the middle of the family's country kitchen. Brent had gone over everything in his mind and on paper a hundred times, and still he came up without answers that made sense. He swept a hand over his face and turned to his brother. "Dammit, I don't know what the hell went wrong. That breeding went like scores of others I've arranged and supervised." Andrew regarded him sympathetically. "No one's blaming you." Like hell they're not. And even if they aren't, I am. I was in charge. Last spring, three-year-old Leopold's Legacy had become the star racehorse at the family's Quest Stables, winning the Kentucky Derby, as well as the Preakness. The stallion appeared to be on his way to taking the Belmont Stakes and the Triple Crown, as well, but even without the Triple Crown, Leopold's Legacy would garner enormous stud fees. Then a computer glitch at the Jockey Association prompted a call for a certain group of Thoroughbreds to have their DNA resubmitted. No big deal. Until the results came back. Then all hell broke loose. According to the new DNA test,Apollo's Ice was not the sire of Leopold's Legacy, as the registration papers stated. Even worse, no one knew who the sire was, since the DNA didn't match that of any stud in the Thoroughbred file. The Jockey Association wasn't interested in how the mix-up had occurred; their sole concern was that the provenance of the horse was not what it was purported to be. Leopold's Legacy was pulled from the Belmont Stakes and Quest Stables was given three months to solve the discrepancy. When they were unable to do so, all Thoroughbreds majority-owned by Quest were banned by local and regional racing commissions from competing in North America. An international ban soon followed. Almost overnight, revenue dropped by half as owners pulled their horses from the stables. Andrew idly stirred his cup. "Listen, Brent, most of our clients will come back." "Maybe," his brother allowed, " if this DNA debacle can be solved soon, and if it's cleared up without prejudice. But a prolonged investigation or proven fault on the part of Quest, and on me" He let the words fade as he gazed toward the wall of windows looking out on the winter garden. Its bleakness matched his mood. "If there's no resolution at all, it'll be the end of Quest." He let out a long breath. "When I think about what Granddad has created, all his hard work, his love, his passion when I think of it being wiped out in his own lifetime because I was too damn blind to know when I was being taken I'm the head breeder. I witnessed the live cover. What are people supposed to think?" "Look," Andrew said. "As manager of this place, I can tell you we're not going to fold. It's just a ma Fiction Fiction, Harlequin<