Backstretch Baby (25 page)

Read Backstretch Baby Online

Authors: Bev Pettersen

BOOK: Backstretch Baby
13.87Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

“What about you, Miguel?” she asked, keeping her voice light. “Want something to eat or drink? Maybe more Tylenol?”

Miguel shook his head, still lovingly rubbing Tizzy’s neck. “I need nothing, boss.” He looked at her, then his face creased in a smile. “This horse, he will run big tomorrow.”

Eve hurried toward the stall, hope flaring. Even Ashley dropped a bucket and rushed to join her. They both studied Tizzy, who’d stretched out his head and rested it on Miguel’s shoulder. His eyes were liquid and peaceful, his lower lip sagging. He looked placid enough to pull a milk wagon, not tear around the track competing with nine other toned and powerful Thoroughbreds.

But Miguel was rarely wrong with his predictions. In fact, Eve couldn’t remember a time that the groom had promised a horse would run big and it hadn’t happened.

Not one of the humans spoke. Tizzy lifted his head, as if questioning the silence. He nuzzled Miguel on the back of his neck, checking on the old man, then gave a sleepy blink.

“He’s acting like he did last fall,” Eve said slowly. “Before he started losing.” Before Victoria insisted on taking over as his groom.

“We made thirty-two dollars betting on the caps tournament,” she added. “If we put it all on Tizzy, we might have something worthwhile to donate toward a fund for Camila.”

Miguel and Ashley nodded, neither of them hesitating a second about giving up their scarce cash.

“Let’s figure out the exotics too,” Ashley said. “And really make our bets count. For Camila.”

Eve gave Ashley an impulsive hug. Backstretch communities were always supportive, but they were growing especially close to the people here.

“Maybe we can hit the exacta,” Eve said. “I’ll ask around tomorrow. Find out what other horses might run big. One of the Vipers gallops a horse in Tizzy’s race. She said he was ready to fire.”

“You’re friends with a Viper?” Ashley arched a disbelieving eyebrow. “The one with the boobs that was hanging over Rick?”

Eve shrugged. Stinger had been aggressive this morning and the Viper had jogged her horse alongside, helping to keep him calm. Actually Eve had enjoyed the woman’s company. Granted, the Viper had been tired from the tournament and probably didn’t want to do much galloping. But her lead pony had been unusually brave, totally unfazed by Stinger’s teeth.

Besides, nothing had happened between the Viper and Rick. In fact, the incident had helped demonstrate that he was an honorable man. The fact that he’d walked away from an attractive and willing woman after a night of drinking was no small thing.

Of course, Rick didn’t have a problem walking away from things. Jobs, women…children.

And who was the boy he’d called Ben? It would help her understand if she knew more about his background. Unfortunately, his police work was off limits, something he wasn’t allowed to discuss. At least with civilians.

But Scott was his employer. Surely he’d know some details. His agency would never hire anyone without an extensive background check. Megan was always joking about how fussy Scott was, and how few investigators ever met her husband’s criteria.

“I need to call a few people,” Eve said, swinging toward the RV. “I’ll make some sandwiches while I’m in there. Just in case either of you get hungry.”

She hurried away, already pulling out her phone. Normally she didn’t care about anyone’s family name, their history, even their prison record. People, like horses, deserved a fresh start.

But this was different. Besides, she needed to talk to Scott. Victoria would have told him Stinger was running on Sunday, but they had other things to discuss. Like finding out when they were getting Joey and where Eve should pick him up on Sunday. So of course she had to call right now. And it certainly wouldn’t hurt to slide in a few questions about Rick.

She stepped into the RV and closed the door. Then scrolled down her contact list. Usually she called Megan but for the purposes of this call, Scott would be best.

She pressed his number quickly, before she lost her nerve.

Scott answered on the second ring, and it was apparent by the background music that he was in his Mercedes. And that he was surprised by her call.

“Hi, Eve,” he said. The music abruptly lowered. “What’s wrong? Is Joey okay?”

“He’s fine. I just wanted to check on the weekend.”

“Megan’s not here,” Scott said. “You can reach her at the studio. But we’d like to pick up Joey tomorrow at nine.”

“Okay,” Eve said. “I’ll let Mom know. Her leg is hurting again so afterwards I’m going to take Joey for the week. I’ll drive down after the races on Sunday. Unless you plan on coming to see Stinger run?”

“Stinger’s running? What race?”

Eve grimaced. Once again, Victoria hadn’t bothered to contact the owners, the people who paid the bills. This was no way to run a race stable. She might be trying to discredit Eve, but her actions were also hurting Jackson.

“Stinger’s running in the ninth on Sunday,” Eve said. “And Julie West is riding. Sorry. There seems to be a little mix-up with communication.”

“It’s okay,” Scott said. “Jackson made a rash decision when he gave so much responsibility to his wife. We’ll definitely drive up to watch.”

“That’s great,” she said brightly. “You can just drop off Joey then.”

For a moment, there was no sound but the muted strands of music. And Scott’s breathing.

“I don’t think the track is a good place to leave a four-year-old,” Scott finally said. “If your mother isn’t feeling well, we’ll look after Joey. Megan would love to keep him for a few weeks, more if necessary.”

“But I miss him,” Eve said. “This is the longest we’ve been apart.”

“This isn’t about you. It’s about what’s best for him.”

Eve tugged at her lip, hating Scott’s reasoned tone. “But he needs his mother,” she said, trying to match Scott’s calmness. “He’ll want to be with me.”

“You can’t care for him those long hours when you’re working. What would he do?”

“Friends offered to help. And we have a play group here, with a big sandpit. I’m going to find more toys, maybe a soccer ball. He loves kicking that. He won’t be too close to the horses.” She hated the defensiveness in her voice. And that she had to justify her son’s safety.

“Track dorms can be rough. Full of flies and rats.” Scott’s voice thickened with disapproval.

“But he won’t be in the dorms,” she said. “He’ll be in the RV. It’s hooked up right next to the barn.”

“What RV?”

She shook her head in confusion. “The one you arranged for Rick. He’s letting us use it while Joey’s here.”

“I didn’t arrange for any RV. And Rick’s used to roughing it. He’s one of my most capable men.”

“Oh. I must have misunderstood him.” But her legs felt wooden and she plunked down on the massage chair. “Anyway, there’s a nice RV here and that’s where Joey and I will sleep.”

“Sounds okay then,” Scott said, as if his approval was necessary.

She clamped her mouth shut, determined not to say anything more. Scott was not a good man to antagonize.

She remained silent as he went on about how she’d have to keep a close watch in case Joey was bored and how the food at the track kitchen might not be appropriate. It was a relief when the topic swung back to horses.

“So you think Stinger likes the track?” Scott asked.

“Yes,” she said. “He’s training well. Even galloped quietly in company today.”

“Good. But I gather from Rick’s reports that someone is still keen to cause you problems.”

“I guess. But everything’s under control. At least Victoria is up at Santa Anita.”

“When you go back though,” Scott said, “it’ll be worse. And a husband-wife team can be difficult, especially if the marriage is already rocky.” His voice softened. “You realize that you’ll always be our trainer? That Stinger is only with Jackson because you’re there. If they force you to move, the horse goes too.”

The back of her throat balled and for a moment she couldn’t speak. Scott trusted her to train their horse. He was a smart and savvy man. So his confidence meant a lot.

“We don’t care if Stinger ever wins another race,” Scott added. “We just want you and Joey to be okay.”

Her words of thanks dried. They didn’t expect her to succeed as a trainer. It was just a way to give her money. More charity.

“Maybe you should reconsider working with Megan,” Scott said. “Her jewelry line is expanding. Then you could stay home, and Joey would have a…better environment.”

“Thanks,” Eve managed. “But I have to go.”

“All right. We’ll see you Sunday. And if the track doesn’t look suitable, we’ll take Joey home with us. Just until you move back to Santa Anita.”

“No.” And she could no longer keep the crispness from her voice. “He’s staying at the track. With me. See you Sunday.”

She cut the connection before fear turned her words more heated. Scott and Megan had good intentions, and they genuinely loved Joey. But there was a threat in the man’s words, and he possessed money as well as clout. In fact, her chest had knotted with such apprehension, she forgot to ask a single question about Rick.

Her gaze swept over the European coffee maker to the fridge with the deluxe ice maker. Scott hadn’t known about the RV. Something this luxurious must cost a big chunk of money. Obviously Rick was padding his expense account. And now Scott would see the RV, check the expenses, and no doubt fire Rick.

Groaning, she dropped her head in her hands. It seemed everyone she cared about was at risk. Her staff, her horses, her son. And ironically Scott now loomed as an even bigger threat than Victoria.

 

 

 

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

 

 

“See you in the morning,” Eve called, waving as Ashley slid into the front of Liam’s Jeep and Miguel climbed into the back.

Liam lowered the driver’s window, his gaze including both Rick and Eve. “I can have someone drive your staff to the barn tomorrow,” he said. “If you’re still concerned about them walking alone.”

She glanced at Rick. Marcus hadn’t been found yet, but police had issued an alert, announcing him the primary suspect in Camila’s murder. She wasn’t sure why Rick was on edge, but he hadn’t left her side since he and Liam returned.

“Not necessary,” Rick said.

She gave him a little nudge. It was already past everyone’s bedtime. If security drove Miguel tomorrow, the groom would have more energy to handle Tizzy. And Ashley would certainly appreciate a drive, especially by a doting guard who would no doubt bring her morning coffee and possibly a breakfast sandwich.

“Drives aren’t necessary,” Rick added smoothly, “but certainly appreciated. Thank you.”

“No problem.” Liam gave a courteous nod. “I’ll have a vehicle pick them up at the dorms.”

The guard was beginning to grow on Eve, no longer reminding her of the Gestapo. And the smile she gave him was genuine and grateful.

Rick looped a hand around her waist, tugging her back a step as the Jeep’s headlights sliced the darkness by their feet. “Hope they find Marcus soon,” she said, as the Jeep disappeared around the curving bend.

“Me too.”

There was an odd note in his voice. He’d been with Liam for over two hours and it probably hadn’t been easy dealing with Camila’s death. “Did you see the spot?” she pulled in a breath. “Where she was killed?”

“The scene is restricted,” he said. “But I spoke with the lead detective.”

“Who found her?”

“Someone fishing beside the river bank. The police are interviewing everyone who knew Marcus. Including Victoria.”

Eve crossed her arms, fighting a chill. “But this has nothing to do with her.”

“Probably not,” Rick said, a little too quickly.

“But Camila was beaten. That doesn’t sound like something a woman would do.” Her voice faded, the back of her neck turning cold as she imagined the brutal fists, Camila’s helplessness, her utter terror. “Did she d-die quickly?”

“We’ll have to wait for the autopsy,” Rick said. He raised his hands and began rubbing her shoulders. “I looked in at Tizzy. If a horse can grin, that horse is doing it. He likes having Miguel to himself.”

She nodded. Rick was obviously trying to change the subject. But it was true, Tizzy definitely had a little strut to his walk. Actually, all the horses seemed happy. Contented sounds drifted behind them: hooves shuffling in the straw, a muzzle slurping water, the munching of sweet alfalfa. The normalcy of the barn was reassuring.

And tomorrow Tizzy would finally race. Miguel believed the horse would run well, and best of all, on Sunday Joey would come. She’d be able to keep him close and he could sleep in the RV, and everything would be great.

But no matter how she tried to distract her mind with good things, she couldn’t stop picturing Camila’s big brown eyes, her rare but beautiful smile. And the brutal fists that had left her lying in the mud like a piece of trash.

She pulled in a choky breath. “I don’t know how to help,” she said. “Except to try and raise money for her family in Guatemala. Juanita is tracking down her relatives now.”

“Good idea,” Rick said. His soothing hands continued stroking her shoulders.

He didn’t seem in any hurry to go inside, and neither did she. Part of her still felt frozen. She’d lost loved ones to violence before and numbness helped her cope. But she’d never leaned against a man like this, sharing her grief, not talking much, just appreciating his closeness.

The sky stretched above them, a dark mantle laced with pinpricks of silver. Last night it had been beautiful but tonight it made her feel small and helpless and totally insignificant.

“I’m glad you’re here,” she said.

“Me too.”

An owl hooted and a horse kicked the wall, probably Stinger upset that Banjo had hay left while his was gone. And she knew life would go on. It always did. She reached up and squeezed his hand.

He pressed a kiss against the back of her neck. “Scott was right,” he said, his mouth warm against her skin. “I needed to slow down. Get off the street. But Camila’s death is definitely a twist. We weren’t anticipating anything like this. He’ll need an update.”

She dropped her hand, clasping them in front of her, her fingers fluttering nervously. Scott already thought the track wasn’t a safe place for Joey. And now he’d learn of this tragedy.

Other books

Death in Cold Water by Patricia Skalka
Sextortion by Ray Gordon
Pop by Gordon Korman
The Sunflower Forest by Torey Hayden
War Plan Red by Peter Sasgen
Sword at Sunset by Rosemary Sutcliff
Armored Hearts by Melissa Turner Lee