Blood and Roses (Holly Jennings Thriller) (8 page)

“Frog juice?” Holly said.

Scott nodded. “Pretty exotic, huh? Dermorphin is a performance enhancer. It comes from the back of some South American frog. They say it’s forty times more powerful than morphine and hard to detect. The fact is, if a horse can’t feel his injury, he’s likely to
run harder and faster. Rumor has it that a week before the Belmont last year, Cayman’s Cult had a tendon injury, but Tieg insisted they find a way to race him. I think they believed they’d found a way. The drug would have made the horse hyper—full of euphoria and excitation. Can’t ask for more in a talented racehorse, right? And you know the public attention was on the horse and his jockey, Juan Perez. Big-time jockey. People were itching for a winner after thirty-four years. That horse was a big deal. The sad thing is that if my product had been used on the colt even just during workouts, it could have prevented an injury. Instead these people choose drugs to mask the pain, and when they’re done with the horse, they’re done with him.”

“Brutal,” Chad said.

“That is the world of horse racing.”

“You said that you thought Tieg could somehow be connected to the, uh, frog juice?” Holly asked.

“The guy was wealthy.” Christiansen’s hands shook as he picked up a pen and weaved it through his fingers. “With connections. He traveled a lot, and he’d told me of a recent trip to South America. That’s where this stuff is being produced. You have chemists out of work. I think Tieg expanded his business ventures beyond producing movies. Look, he tried to rip me off because he saw money. If he thought there was money to be made by doping his horses…racing regulators know fighting illegal drugs in horses’ systems is an uphill battle. If not frog juice, it’s cobra venom…there is a plethora of stuff tried out on these animals. A lot of these drugs go undetected, and a lot of these trainers and owners are willing to take that risk to get a horse across the finish line. Big business. And, I believe if Tieg thought he could make a dime by producing performance-enhancing drugs, both in legal and illegal form, then I think he would have. My invention would have been legit for him and maybe opened up the door to create supplements and give him
credibility. The supplement business is a huge market in the equestrian world. I have no idea if that’s what he was up to. I wouldn’t have put it past him, though. What I can tell you for certain is that I think he was unethical and somewhat dangerous—but I didn’t kill him.”

Holly nodded. “You also mentioned a documentary that Tieg was making about the Infinity. We’ve heard of it, too. Can you tell us anything more about it?”

Christiansen set down the pen. “Not really. I know he’d been involved in having that facility built out in Vegas. His pal Hodges built the adjoining casino and put a lot into the grandstand. Tieg and his friends fronted a ton of cash, and as you have probably read, the purse at the race is going to be the largest one in history. Fifty million. I suppose that’s chump change to people like Hodges and Tieg. As I said, Tieg had connections, and he promised to get my product out there. He lied and tried to steal from me, but I repeat, I’m not a murderer.”

“Did you know either Tommy Lyons or Katarina Erickson? The jockeys who were killed?”

“No. I told you that last month. I didn’t know them.” He shook his head. “I didn’t.” He made a face as if he realized what she was thinking. “Remember you questioned me about where I had been when the jockeys were murdered? On a cruise with my family through the Panama Canal.”

She did remember. And his story had checked out, but for a man who hadn’t given up much on their first visit, he sure knew a lot about horse racing and was involved far more deeply than the few products he sold to the racing world.

Holly stood to go, and Chad followed suit. “Thank you for your time, sir. I hope you understand that we will need to question your employees again. I am certain you’ll cooperate with us. I am
also certain that if anything else comes to mind, you won’t hold back that information.”

“Of course. I do apologize. Obviously this is Friday, so my employees won’t be back until Monday.”

Cases grew cold, and it had taken another man’s murder to breathe life into her month-long investigation. Holly wondered if, had Christiansen filled them in on all of these details the first time they spoke, a murder could have been prevented. “We will be back on Monday then, Mr. Christiansen.”

He nodded, shook their hands, and showed them out of his office as his assistant came down the hall with the drink he’d requested in hand. Holly was sure he would down all of it.

“What do you think?” Chad asked, once back in the car.

“I think the guy had motive. I think he was pretty damn angry at Tieg, and he admitted as much to us. I think his reasons for not telling us the whole truth earlier seem shady, but he was convincing, and if his wife is in charge…well, we all know husbands don’t like to piss off their wives. Husbands have been known to lie—or in his case, not be forthright—in order to stay out of trouble, even to the police.”

“No doubt.”

“You have to admit, partner, that this is strange, and even if Christiansen has nothing to do with these murders, my gut says there is some kind of connection. Let’s check his employees again. And I think we also need to find this Rafael Torres. Frog juice, cobra venom? What the hell?”

11

Leann Purdue brought two cups of tea to bed. Dan was already tucked between the sheets, their German shepherd, Rascal, at his feet.

She walked around to his side of the bed and set the cup on the oak nightstand. “I bet you’re tired.”

“A little.” He took her hand. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” She winced when she saw the scars on his hands. She’d thought, after nine months of being together, that she’d gotten used to the scars, but she hadn’t. Dan had been badly burned by boiling water as a child.

He picked up the mug and took a sip of the tea. “It was good, though. I’m excited to think we’re going to expand this business.” He smiled. True happiness was reflected in his green eyes.

“I don’t know if that’s going to happen.” She crawled into bed and tucked her blonde hair back behind her ears.

“What do you mean? I just signed the deal yesterday in Virginia for the land. I thought we agreed we wanted to open another rescue facility. I’ve already put some ads out there for volunteers and someone who can manage the place.” Dan set the cup back down.

“We did agree, but I think Cay is shooting blanks. I had another mare’s owner call today, furious that his horse didn’t take.” Leann picked up the lavender-scented lotion off her nightstand and put some on the palms of her hands.

“Shit. I knew we shouldn’t have trusted Tieg.”

“You haven’t heard,” she said.

“Heard what?” he asked.

“Tieg. He was found murdered this morning in LA.” She replaced the lotion on the nightstand and rubbed her hands together.

“What?” Dan said. “You’re joking.”

“I’m not at all. Pretty graphic, too. I saw it on the racing blog. There’s not many details yet, but it’s scary.”

Dan shook his head and patted the side of the striped duvet cover, indicating for her to scoot in next to him. “Dammit. That’s not good. I hate to see the guy dead, and we certainly won’t get any money back on the horse now.”

“Danny.” She moved over and leaned her head on his shoulder.

“I’m just saying the truth, love.”

“Right, but it also means…” she whispered.

“I know what it means, sweetie. It means the funds could dry up. We all put up a lot of cash to buy that horse, expecting the stud fees would help supplement the needs here.” He put his arm around her and pulled her in closer.

She tried to fight back the tears. Leann Purdue, like her sister Elena, had been raised on the track, but they had been raised to be compassionate. They worked hard, and they invested wisely in horses, and when those horses were off the track, they brought them back to Leann’s farm in Kentucky where they could live out their days in peace. They also took in other horses that needed rescuing. Between her fiancé, Dan, and another friend, Ian, they had two trailers running across the country to pick up horses in need. All the workers on their place, Golden Hearts, were volunteers. But feeding fifty head and counting and running an operation like theirs wasn’t easy. Elena, Dan, and she had banked on the purchase of Cayman’s Cult last year when the horse was pulled out of his
last race with rumors of drugs in his system, and then a suspensory branch issue. But they figured he could stand stud, so they’d made Tieg an offer he couldn’t refuse, especially considering he really wanted the bad press behind him.

Dan shook his head. “Man, whatever they were shooting that animal with caused this. I know it.”

“I need to call Elena.”

“No, babe. Not yet. We’ll figure it out. I promise.” He took her hands and then kissed her. “I promise you. I know this is your dream, and we won’t let it fail. Okay?”

She nodded.

Dan reached to scratch Rascal between his ears. “I will say, though, that it’s a good thing Tieg is dead, or I’d probably go kill him myself for this.”

“Dan!”

“You reap what you sow, and I don’t think Tieg was too great a guy.”

“That doesn’t mean he deserved to be murdered.”

“I suppose not, but life has a funny way of getting even sometimes.”

“I guess it does.”

“Let’s not worry about it anymore tonight. It will all work out. I know it will,” he assured her. She tried to be comforted by his words, his strong arms around her, the familiar scent of the spicy cologne he wore.

Leann wished she could be as sure as Dan that it would all work out, because at the moment, she wasn’t certain about how they were going to save the farm.

12

Brendan leaned across the table where he and Holly sat outside on his upstairs balcony drinking a glass of wine, and he gave her one helluva kiss. He leaned back with a mischievous look in his eyes. She was happy that she had made it in time for their eight o’clock “date,” which they’d decided to have at home.

The downtown skyline spread out before them to the right, bright city lights blinking, and they watched airplanes land at Lindbergh Field, the brakes of the planes screaming across the tarmac as the flights touched down and slowed to a stop. Orange blossoms on the large tree in Brendan’s backyard scented the air.

She smiled. “What was that for?”

“Because I love you.” He sipped the cabernet.

“I love you, too.” She reached across the table and took his hand. His warmth and familiarity eased the ugliness of the day. As corny as it sounded, she referred to Brendan as her soft place to fall. He’d come into her life at the right time, when she had finally been willing to let go of the ghost she had been hanging onto for over eight years—her husband Jack who, like her, had been a cop. He’d died in a huge warehouse explosion during a drug bust. Holly had clung to the fact that his body had not been recovered. The fire had been too hot, and two other officers had died that day as well. There had been no remains. For so long she held out hope that Jack would come walking through the door and tell her that he was alive.

Her mind played tricks on her, allowing her to convince herself that Jack was on a work trip. But that fantasy only lasted so long. On top of everything, she had been pregnant with Chloe at the time. Depression had set in, but the birth of their daughter helped, as did years of therapy. And then the fateful day when she’d met Brendan at their daughters’ school. It had taken some time, but she’d finally given over her heart, and although the demands of her job were grueling, her personal life finally seemed in order. She’d met a man she could love, one who wholeheartedly loved her back.

“How was your day?” Brendan asked. “You were late. Something happen?”

“I’m a cop. Something always happens. But yes, today was one of those days. Hard case. Very difficult, and with some ugly aspects.” She tried to keep her mind focused on him, but there were notes that she wanted to go over from Tommy and Katarina’s murders. She knew she needed to see what she could do about speaking with Edwin Hodges, and there were so many other details of the case that needed picking apart.

“Ah, well, why don’t I help you take your mind off of it?” He winked at her. “The girls won’t be home for another hour.”

Brendan’s oldest, Megan, now almost eighteen, had been good enough to take Chloe and Maddie to a movie. Granted, the kid was bucking for her own car, so they were certain there was an ulterior motive to her babysitting generosity, but they did have the house to themselves for a little while on a Friday night. “Hmm. I think that can be arranged.” Holly stood and grabbed his hand, and they headed into the bedroom.

Holly took off her sweater and set it over one of two leather chairs that Brendan had arranged in front of the fireplace in the master. As she did, she remembered that morning and the plumeria charm. She felt a slight sting in her heart. She really did need to put the charm away. She needed to close all doors to her former life
with Jack. Although she had given her heart to Brendan, an occasional fleeting moment still reminded her of her deceased husband.

The night that they’d had their argument over her work hours and seeming lack of commitment to their relationship and she had raced home to sulk, things had changed. She’d sat in the family room with a glass of wine, holding the charm. Chloe and Maddie were together at a slumber party for another friend’s birthday. Two hours into her sulkfest as she walked down memory lane, the doorbell rang. She put the charm in the pocket of the sweater.

It was Brendan.

She opened the door.

“Just listen to me, Holly.”

She crossed her arms.

“I love you. I love you with every ounce of my being, and I don’t want to lose you.”

“I don’t want to lose you either,” she whispered. “But you have to understand that I am a cop.”

He nodded. “I do. And I know what your job means to you. And I know that I have to…no…that I want to accept that, because there is no way I am ever letting you walk out of my life.” He took her hand, got down on his knee, and asked her to marry him.