HORSES AND HEROIN (Romantic Mystery) (26 page)

BOOK: HORSES AND HEROIN (Romantic Mystery)
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Of course, Joey wasn’t here right now.

“Some people successfully fight addictions,” she said, her voice clipped.

“And many more don’t,” Scott said. “A bunch of stories are floating around. Possibly they’re exaggerated, but the truth is undeniable. Joey Collins was an addict. He may have turned to a gang to support his habit so it’s quite possible he’s in Mexico now with a needle shoved in his arm.

“There’re a lot of bodies between here and Tijuana,” Scott went on. “He may not be the big drug dealer Ramon thinks, but he’s undoubtedly bad news.”

Bodies? Joey’s? It hurt to breathe. Braun slowed as though sensing Megan’s distress but Rambo charged forward, impatient with the ambulatory pace.

“Dammit.” Scott tightened the reins as Rambo snaked his head and tried to buck. “Get your horse moving, Megan,” he said. “Or we’ll have a rodeo here.”

She squeezed her legs, and Braun instantly moved alongside Rambo.

“Don’t go to sleep on me, sweetheart,” he added, shooting her a smile. However, she couldn’t return it, and at that moment resented not only his easy way with a horse but also his easy way with her.

Clearly he didn’t know what it was like to love someone, in spite of a few failings. Her school friends had written her off, no doubt influenced by their parents. But she couldn’t do that. Couldn’t stop caring because of a mistake. What kind of person did that?

She adjusted her grip on the lead, grateful Braun, at least, was dependable. In fact, he was an awesome horse. Any other day she would have been honored to ride him. But today she was too tangled with misery.

A lot of bodies between here and Tijuana.
She tried to banish the image of broken bodies, but it was difficult. And Scott was right about one thing. Joey had been an addict. Maybe he’d chosen to remain in Mexico. Maybe she should just drive in the direction of the Baja Tinda and check every town on the way. She’d helped him before. She could do it again. She certainly wasn’t going to give up, no matter what Scott thought.

She shot him a dark look, too resentful to speak. Would love to see him flat on his gorgeous ass, smack in the dirt.

“Why do I get the feeling you want Rambo to buck me off?” he asked.

Flushing, she yanked her gaze away, aghast he could read her thoughts so well.

“But you didn’t want to risk your friend, Eve,” he added thoughtfully. “You’re a hard woman, sweetheart.” He glanced at the white beemer cruising along the adjoining road. “We’ve got company. Probably Garrett checking that you’re not abusing his champion horse.”

“I wouldn’t abuse Braun. Or any horse. And that day Edzo was all sweaty, you were with me. You know I didn’t ride him too hard.” She spotted Scott’s smile and realized he was only trying to tease her into talking. And his ploy had worked. She flattened her mouth in annoyance.

“I don’t know why you’re sulking.” He reached over and squeezed her knee. “But let’s ride over and give Garrett a report.”

She felt the warmth of his palm through her jeans, knew how magical those hands were, and a tingle scooted through her. Unfortunately, it seemed her body operated independently from her brain and didn’t resent his nasty comments about Joey. She turned Braun toward the parked car, dismayed by her reaction.

Garrett leaned over the rail, his sunglasses reflecting a warped image of Rambo’s head. “Thanks for tuning that horse up for us, buddy,” he called.

“A tune-up isn’t going to do much for this fellow.” Scott stopped by the fence. “He may have been a fine racehorse but he’s not suitable for the school. He’ll hurt someone.”

Garrett nodded. “Then he can’t stay, but at least we gave him a chance. And that solves a little problem. We need a fourth horse for the Baja Tinda. He can fill the trailer.”

“Are they better riders down there?” Megan asked, tilting her head. Miguel hadn’t wanted to ride Rambo, and apparently he was the top rider at the Baja Tinda. It didn’t make sense to send Rambo to another school.

Garrett just shrugged but wouldn’t look at her.

“I think what’s happening,” Scott said, glancing at Megan, “is that he’ll be someone else’s problem. Their decision.” His voice hardened when he looked back at Garrett. “That’s a harsh thing to do with a horse who’s won a million dollars.”

“I can’t keep him.” Garrett crossed his arms. “He’s dangerous under saddle, unpredictable on the ground. Lydia doesn’t even let her grooms work on him. Yet she’s the one making the biggest stink.”

“Did you check his papers?” Scott asked. “Maybe someone offered a home after he’s…used up.”

Garrett flinched at Scott’s tone but didn’t back down. “I run a business. And I’m not the one who made the big bucks. He’s been nothing to me but hospital bills.”

“I’ll call his past owners, if you want,” Megan said tentatively. “My brother did that once and placed our old Quarter Horse. The breeder was happy—”

“Now that’s just plain stupid.” Garrett’s head snapped around, and the anger in his voice made her recoil. “That horse is going on the trailer.”

“After she’s tried calling.” Scott pushed Rambo between Garrett and Megan. “And I don’t think it’s stupid.”

Scott’s voice had lowered but its steely undercurrent cut like a whip. Laughter sounded from the jock barn and a horse called from a distant paddock, but around them the air turned taut. She could definitely picture Scott as a cop—a tough and implacable one.

A flush climbed Garrett’s neck. She looked away, pretending to straighten Braun’s mane, guessing he wouldn’t like a student to see him challenged. But surely Rambo deserved a chance? It wouldn’t even cost Garrett anything. And one would think he’d rather have the horse placed in a home, not dead-ended at a meat plant.

“You’re right, of course.” Garrett abruptly stepped back, raising his palms. “Pick up the papers from Lydia and make some calls. I’ll find another horse to send.”

She blew out a breath, her tension draining. Even Rambo’s head lowered a notch, or maybe he was picking up a cue from his rider. It was fortunate Scott had backed her up. Now she only prayed a previous owner would be generous enough to provide a home. If not, Rambo would still be shipped out and Garrett would be doubly annoyed.

Scott gave a reassuring smile as though sensing her doubts. “You can do it, Megan. Let’s put these horses away and you can start calling.”

“And I’ll bring over Rambo’s papers.” Garrett adjusted his sunglasses and swept them both with a smile—a smile that looked somewhat forced.

 

 

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

 

 

“He’s not suitable for a beginner rider or even an intermediate,” Megan said into the phone, “but he’s sound, after sixty-two races. What a testimonial to your breeding program.”

Scott tore his gaze away and glanced back at his laptop, trying not to listen. However, she looked so beautiful, so passionate. He loved her generous nature and how gamely she was trying to save a battle-scarred horse. Her conversation was much more entertaining than analyzing Snake’s report, but what the hell, he liked looking at her, even when she was sleeping. It had been a long time since he’d been so attracted to a woman—not since Amanda.

Of course, that had ended badly.

He tossed his pen on the table, walked into the kitchen and refilled his coffee cup. Megan wasn’t like Amanda, other than he sometimes didn’t understand her moods. Now she sat at the kitchen table, oblivious to his scrutiny, fielding questions from someone on the phone while at the same time loyally defending Rambo.

“No, he doesn’t bite,” she said. “He just pretends to be grumpy. People don’t matter a whole lot to him.”

And that’s exactly my problem.

I don’t matter much to Megan.
It was apparent she hadn’t wanted to see him tonight but he’d lured her out with talk of Rex. And she was here this afternoon, but only because of Rambo.

Sure, she was willing enough once his hands and mouth were on her but if not for Rambo, she’d be hanging out with her friends today. She viewed him as temporary, never asking questions about his past or dropping hints about their future.

Normally a beautiful woman who was satisfied with simple sack time made him happy. Grateful even. But Megan was holding back when he wanted to charge forward. It was frustrating.

“Okay then,” she said. “Bye.”

“They interested?” He propped his hip against the counter, studying her bright eyes as she cut the connection.

She leaped from the chair, surprising him with a quick hug. “They’re going to think about it. Rambo was foaled there. Sold as a weanling but they were very open and appreciated the call. It might work out.”

He curved his arm around her. If she was giving away hugs, he intended to take full advantage. “Where’s their farm?”

“Northern California.” She peered up at him, her eyes shining with gratitude. “Thank you so much. For making Garrett agree. That’s two no’s, one maybe, and I have another number to call back. Cross your fingers for this last one. They owned him when he raced at Del Mar.”

She looked so sweet, so happy about saving a horse, he couldn’t resist dipping his head. “We need a kiss for luck,” he said, finding her mouth, but keeping it brief.

Damn, he couldn’t keep his hands off her. Maybe he scared her. Maybe that was the problem. He abruptly straightened and turned for the coffee. “Want a refill?” he asked.

“No more coffee for me. I’m going home after we see Rex. Catch up on the sleep we didn’t get last night.” She flashed him a teasing smile.

There it was again, a reminder she wasn’t staying and despite her pretty smile, it was pissing him off. He wanted to know everything about her, from her first horse to her last boyfriend.

She didn’t even care how he liked his coffee. Preferred to be in a tiny dorm with a giggly girl fresh out of high school.

“Well,” he said, “if your roommate locks you out again, or wants to stay up late—what is she, ten years younger?—you can always use one of my spare rooms.”

She gave a distracted nod, not even reacting to the age crack. She wasn’t at all insecure about her looks, her age or maybe she simply didn’t care. However, it was clear she cared about her friends, certainly about Tami and Eve, and that gave him another angle.

“And we could set up the other room,” he said, watching her expression, “as the Joey op center.”

Her head shot up, and he knew he had her. “Where we’ll maintain charts of the last sightings,” he added. “Map where he’s been. Figure out his territory.” He kept a straight face, trying to remember what the TV shows did so he could throw out the terms clients liked to hear. “Get in his mind,” he went on. “Understand his psych. Draw up a profile of drug dealers.”

“Eve swears he’s not a drug dealer,” she said, rather stiffly.

“Maybe, maybe not.” It was understandable Eve wouldn’t believe anything bad about her boyfriend, but Garrett and Ramon were much more objective.

“Could you look into the Baja Tinda too?” she asked. “That’s where Joey was going. And I was thinking, maybe you and I could go to Mexico. Retrace his steps.” She tilted her head, studying him thoughtfully. “Do you speak much Spanish?”

Jesus.
He jerked in surprise. She clearly was expecting much more than a few colorful posters. “I don’t think a trip to Mexico is necessary,” he said cautiously. “Especially since he’s been spotted around here. A lot can be done with a computer. But I’ll look into the Baja Tinda.”

She nodded, her face glowing now with eagerness. “I was thinking you should also check out Miguel and Ramon. Miguel has a tattoo on his left arm, some sort of cross with weird symbols. Would it help if I took a picture?”

He picked up his coffee mug, studying her over the rim. “Just how long have you known Eve? You seem very eager to find her ex-boyfriend.”

“He’s not ex.” She shrugged and fingered her phone. “They never even broke up. He just disappeared. And she needs him.”

“Why?”

She stared down at her phone, but he caught the way she nibbled her lip and knew she was being evasive.

“Is Eve missing her supplier?” he asked, unable to keep the distaste from his voice. “Garrett said—”

Her head shot up. “Did Garrett accuse Eve of using drugs too? You’re just like everyone else. If that’s your attitude, forget it. I can do it myself.”

He set the mug down and crossed his arms, trying to control his impatience. “Just make sure you’re telling me everything, Megan. Because I’ve never condoned drugs. If anything shakes out, all parties will be turned over to the police. Garrett feels just as strongly.”

She jammed her shoulders back. “I’d hoped you’d be able to think a little independently of your good buddy, Garrett.”

“And I hoped you’d be a little more honest.” His coffee tasted bitter now, and he dumped it into the sink. “Why don’t you make that last call and then we’ll drive to the vet clinic? Where we can visit Rex and see Joey’s handiwork up close.”

Her face whitened and he instantly regretted his words. He wasn’t a cruel man, but that had been unkind. Hell, maybe he was a tiny bit jealous of her interest in Joey Collins. He opened his mouth to apologize but she stopped him with such a look of disdain, he snapped it shut.

She picked up the phone and he turned and walked into the second bedroom on the left. Shoved the bed against the wall. Opened up a card table and placed it in the middle of the floor. He slapped Joey’s file on the center of the table. It was thin now but in a few days it would be bulging. He’d make sure of it.

He removed three framed pictures from the wall and jammed them into the large closet. A map of Mexico and California would replace them, and he’d pin up anything else that might please her. He’d have to compensate Garrett for the wall holes, but if she wanted a real investigation, she’d damn well get one.

When he returned to the kitchen, she was talking on the phone.

“Yes, Rambo’s still like that,” she said into the receiver. “He’s extremely confident. Has a very high opinion of himself.” She glanced up and for a moment, Scott thought she was talking about him.

“I’m so glad you want him,” she went on. “I’m his groom and he’s definitely a very cool horse.”

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