Kentucky Sunrise (28 page)

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Authors: Fern Michaels

BOOK: Kentucky Sunrise
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“I think you're right. I'm not used to eating lamb. I didn't even like it. Do you think you can make some noodle soup or something light today?”
“Of course. I'll get everything fresh and it will be the best soup you've ever eaten. Stella, watch your master till I get back. Whew, it's already hot. I guess I better wear my straw hat. What do you think, Zack?”
“I think you're right. I might even take a snooze here on the patio with Stella before it gets too hot.”
“I won't be long, two hours at the most. If you want anything, just ask the maid to get it for you. I think she just got here. I'll tell her not to bother you. See you in a bit. Be a good girl, Stella,” Willow said, bending down to pet the dog.
Inside the villa, Willow motioned for the maid to follow her to the bathroom where she whispered instructions and held out a fistful of money. The maid's head bobbed up and down as she stripped off her uniform to don Willow's flowered muumuu and straw hat. Willow in turn put on the maid's uniform and tied a white scarf around her head, just the way the maid had worn hers.
In the little foyer off the bathroom, Willow said loudly, “Check on Mr. Leroy but don't disturb him. You can leave the coffee service. I'll be back shortly. Oh, I almost forgot, do you think you can fetch some extra towels? We used them all up this morning. It's so hot here, I like to shower a couple of times a day. We also need more pool towels.”
“I'll get them as soon as I finish cleaning the bathroom, miss,” the maid responded.
Willow motioned for the maid to put on her sunglasses and leave.
She waited exactly twenty-five minutes before she left the villa. Her adrenaline pumping at an all-time high, Willow secured the backpack that contained all her worldly possessions underneath a heavy load of towels and walked away. She stopped once to check the milling crowds of tourists as well as her location. She took a full five minutes to mourn the loss of Zack and Stella before she bounced her way along the promenade and a waiting taxi. She slid onto the seat and said, “Take me to the airport, please.” She boarded a flight within ten minutes. Her destination: Barcelona.
The maid assigned to clean Willow's villa returned shortly before noon, her arms full of pots, pans, and fresh vegetables. She was wearing Willow's flowered dress, sunglasses, and straw hat. She exited the villa one more time to head for the laundry room shortly after the noon hour, where she donned a spare uniform she kept in her locker. The flowered dress, sunglasses, and straw hat were scrunched into her carry bag.
At four o'clock, when Hatch and Cal joined Spence, he could only shrug. “She did what she said she was going to do. She shopped and came back here. I was right behind her all the way. She didn't spot me, so stop worrying. I haven't heard a peep from either one of them since we got back. The old guy went into the house with the dog after the maid left. He hasn't come back out. Said he was going to take a snooze. It's all yours. This heat is a killer. I think I drank a couple of gallons of water today, and now I'm off for a swim.”
Hatch looked down at his watch. It was 4:10. He looked at the investigator sitting next to him. “It doesn't feel right, Cal. Spence said no one is talking inside or outside. Doesn't that strike you as peculiar? Shouldn't we be picking up some kitchen noises or the dog's paws slapping on the tile floor?”
“Maybe the old guy is snoozing like he said. Maybe the chick is taking a nap, too. People do that over here. You know, sleep during the hottest part of the day. She'll probably start to cook soon and be banging pots and pans. When did the locals say we can pick her up?”
“First thing in the morning. No, no, something's wrong. What time did the maid leave?”
Cal looked down at the clipboard Spence had handed him before he left. “A little after noon. Why?”
“Bull
shit
she left at noon! C'mon, we're going over there
now.”
“Hatch, wait!”
“She's gone. I feel it in my gut. C'mon, I'll prove it to you.”
For a big man, Hatch was light on his feet. He raced through the gardens and up the orchid-lined walkway to Willow's villa. He yanked on the bell that hung outside the door. Zack Leroy marched his way to the door, his dog at his side. He showed no surprise when he said, “Now, aren't you fellas a little far from home? Come in, come in, it's hot out there. Would you like a soft drink or some iced tea?”
“Where the hell is she, Zack? Come on, spit it out or you're looking at serious jail time here in a third-world country,” Hatch snarled.
Zack drew himself up to his full height and stared at Hatch. At his feet Stella bared her teeth and growled. “If you mean where is Mazie, she went shopping. Said she'd be back in a couple of hours. I was just starting to worry about her. Oh well, she's a big girl, and I don't think she'll get lost. So, do you want that drink or not?”
“No, I don't want a drink. I want to know where Willow Bishop went and what time she left.”
“Don't know any Willow Bishop. I am just a guest here of Miss Mazie Breckenbridge. I'll be staying here till the end of March. That's all I got to say to you fellas.”
Hatch ran his fingers through hair that was soaking wet with perspiration. “Son of a fucking bitch!” he seethed.
Stella clamped her teeth around Hatch's ankle and tugged, knocking him off-balance. He flopped down on a sofa that was identical to the one in his villa. He cursed long and loud, annoying Stella even more. She leaped onto the sofa and sat on the big man's chest, her lips pulled back to show a set of remarkably strong, white teeth.
“Call off this damn dog,” Hatch snarled.
“Why should I? You invaded my temporary home. A man has the right to protect his castle. This is my castle for the time being. I'm an old man. For all I know you could be a couple of scam artists, following me around. You did follow me, all the way here from the United States. When I tell the po-lice that, who do you think they're going to believe, me or you?”
“They'll believe me, goddamm it. The police were going to arrest her in the morning, and I was taking her back to the States. Don't go getting cocky on me, old-timer. You're in this up to your neck, Mr. Leroy. Now, call off your dog.”
“Don't know what you're talking about. I'd appreciate it if you'd go somewhere else and leave me alone. If you don't leave, I'll call the desk and ask them to call the po-lice. Stella, show the man you like him a lot.” He cackled in glee when the big dog slobbered all over Hatch's face before she slid to the floor and waited expectantly for her next order.
“All right, we're going, but we'll be back.”
“Won't do you no good. Good-bye.”
Outside in the humid air, Cal said, “Tough old bird, isn't he? You aren't going to get one word out of him. I say we pack it in and head back home. It's too damn hot and humid for me in this country. I'll take desert heat anytime.” He stopped along the path to pick a pink orchid. He handed it to Hatch, who automatically brought it to his nose. He was surprised to note that the flower didn't give off a scent.
“This is the third time she's gotten away from me. I'm starting to feel like a real loser here.”
Cal clapped him on the back. “Don't take it so hard, Hatch. She does this for a living. You can't be expected to think and act like she does. Let's call it a day and head for home, but first we have to decide what we're going to do about Mr. Leroy.”
Hatch threw his hands in the air. “We'll just keep quiet about him. He won't tell anyone anything. I saw that in his eyes. Let him live out his days free and clear. He's got his dog, and that's all he needs. Just let me call the authorities and my wife and we can head for the airport. She changed places with the maid. Damn, how did I let that get by me? Why didn't I think of that possibility?”
“Because you're a lawyer, and she's a broad on the run. Look at it this way: she'll be running for the rest of her life and looking over her shoulder at the same time. That's no way to live.”
“Maybe you're right. She'll surface again at some point in time. Trust me on that,” Hatch said.
“Who cares. Our job is done here. I just want to go home.”
“Beautiful word,
home,”
Hatch said.
Cal grinned. “None better.”
14
Nealy watched the cascade of rain pouring from the roof. She was sitting, yoga fashion, on the front porch, Hatch on the chair next to her. It was late, hours past her usual bedtime. These days sleep was not something she craved or even wanted.
“A penny for your thoughts, honey,” Hatch said, firing up a cigar. He blew an aromatic puff of smoke upward.
“I don't think they're worth even that much these days. I never liked rain. Did I ever tell you that?”
Hatch smiled in the darkness. “I suspected it. I'm not crazy about it myself. Too many accidents on the roadways. For some strange reason, people tend to speed up when it rains, and the roads are slick. I could never fathom that. Want to talk about it?”
“Yes and no. I think my brain is on overload. All I do is think and remember. Liz said I should write things down so we can discuss them. Sometimes I do, but for the most part, once I unlock a memory, I remember it. There's no time limit on this therapy. I do better when I know I have X amount of time to complete something. Liz just says it will be as long as it takes. I've been going to her every day, six days a week, for over a month. Right now I don't know where I am except maybe in a muddle. Liz sorts out each session and gives it a summary.”
“It sounds to me like you're making progress. Rome wasn't built in a day. You repressed years of things you didn't want to deal with. Try to be patient.”
“I do try. Maybe I'm trying too hard. I was hoping to have all this behind me before the Derby. It's less than a month away. Right now I feel like I'm two different people. One is the Nealy who lives and works here, and the other Nealy is someone I'm just meeting, and I don't like her. Yesterday I hated her. I thought I was perfect. I really did think that, Hatch. God, I wasn't even close to perfect. My insides just crumble when I talk to Liz. Sometimes I can't look at her when I'm talking. She said that's normal. I lucked out when I went to her. I don't know if I can handle the day we stack up all those summaries and I have to deal with them.”
A thunderbolt boomed in the dark sky, followed by a streak of lightning that was so bright it lit up the night. Nealy shivered as she brought her coffee cup to her lips. She hated cold coffee but was too lazy to go indoors to get a fresh cup.
“You'll handle it, honey. I'm here if you need me.”
“Have you heard anything about Willow? You haven't said a word about her since you got back.”
“It doesn't pay to dwell on something you have no control over. I imagine one day she'll surface somewhere. In one way I feel sorry for her. I really did believe her when she said she didn't kill Junior Belez. She can't prove it, so she has no control. She doesn't want to go to prison for something she didn't do. She's a tough cookie. What you would call a street kid. She'll survive one way or another. I feel like I failed her. That's never happened to me before. I had her, Nealy. She was just feet away from me, and she got away. That doesn't say much for me. And you're right, I am taking it personally.”
“You aren't law enforcement, Hatch, you're a lawyer. You couldn't be expected to act like a cop even though they deputized you before you went over there. I know how you feel though. Is Nick okay with all of it?”
Hatch watched the lightning dance across the sky. He puffed contentedly before he replied. “I'm sucking it all up the way a good lawyer should. Surprising enough, Nick was okay with it. I'm sure there's a small part of him that will never forget his first love, but he's happy now that he has someone else in his life. She's a sweetheart, Nealy. You're going to like her. She's crazy about Nick, and she's one hell of a paralegal. The firm is hoping she'll accept our offer to send her to law school. Then the two of them will have even more in common.”
“Do you think Nick will bring her to the Derby?” Nealy asked.
“I think you can almost count on it. Why don't you tell me what's really bothering you? Maybe between the two of us we can talk it to death.”
Nealy leaned back against the porch pillar and hugged her knees to her chest. “When you go into therapy you always have to go back to what you perceive to be the beginning. For me, the beginning was Dillon Roland. I loved him, Hatch. At least as much as a girl can love a boy. Somehow or other I convinced myself he didn't love me, that he just used me and abused me and then let me hang out there to dry. I was wrong about that. He did love me. I blamed him for everything. That seems to be a trait with me, blaming other people for things I did wrong and still do wrong. Liz pointed that out to me, but by day three, I had figured it out myself.
“I spoke to Dillon about a month ago. He saw me going into Guerrin's Pharmacy and followed me. We talked for eight minutes. Eight whole minutes, Hatch. That's all the time I would give him. Just eight minutes for him to tell me about how he felt. He was the beginning and I only gave him eight lousy minutes. He did it, though. He handed me this little notebook with all the poems he wrote for me back then. I cried when I read them. He really did love me. I think he was more scared than I was. I spent so many years hating that man. And now he is the love of my daughter's life. She has what she always wanted, a father. I was so jealous of that, I wanted to kill him for robbing me of Emmie. He gave her what I never could. Love. That girl soaks it up like a sponge.
“I watch her out there every day, Hatch, and I'm jealous. I don't want to be, but I am. She's doing everything I did at her age, and she's doing it because she loves doing it. I did it out of guilt and out of fear. At the end of the day, she looks to Dillon for approval, not me. It's like a stick in the eye when she does that.”
“Is she good enough to ride in the Derby, Nealy?”
Nealy smiled. “She's better than good. She bonded with that runt from day one. He is her horse, and together they are one. It was like that with me and Flyby. That horse can run, but then so can Gadfly. It's going to be a once-in-a-lifetime race. I'm rooting for her every step of the way.”
“Maybe you should tell her that.”
“The time isn't right. I don't want to do or say anything that will upset the current situation. She has Dillon, who will see her through it all.”
“Maybe you need to talk to him, too.”
“At some point,” Nealy said.
The wind kicked up, and a spray of rain ripped across the front porch. Within seconds both Nealy and Hatch were soaked to the skin. “I think we just found a good reason to shed our clothes. What do you think, Hatch?”
“Here on the porch?” Hatch gasped.
“Do you have a better idea? There's a lot to be said for spontaneity.” Nealy ripped at her shirt.
Hatch watched his wife. When she started to unhook her bra, he knew she meant business. “Hey, wait for me.”
“I'm waiting,” she singsonged as she stepped out of her jeans.
Down to his skivvies, Hatch shed them quicker than lightning. “I'm ready,” he boomed.
Nealy kicked her panties across the porch. She doubled over laughing when they landed on top of a scarlet geranium. “You better hope that last sentence doesn't draw a crowd!”
“We could go in the house,” he said, reaching for her.
“And spoil all this foreplay! No way.”
 
 
Emmie looked over at Lee Liu and grinned. “Dead even, and it was a wet track! We both picked up a second,” she said as she eyed the stopwatch Jake held up for her inspection. “This little boy just loves to run.” She leaned over to whisper to Jake, “Did Mom see us?”
“Yeah. She clapped her hands and was smiling. She went up to the house. It's almost four o'clock. See, there she goes. Did you ever find out where she goes every day?”
“Nope. It's her business, not mine. If she wanted me to know, she'd tell me. We're getting along a lot better these past two weeks. She's even been civil to my father, which is a miracle in itself. Okay, I gotta go. You guys are in charge. Call me if you need me. I can be here in fifteen minutes. I don't know if this means anything to you, but I'm proud of you both. I know it would mean more if my mother said it, but she will when the time is right. She's always been stingy with her compliments, so when she does give one, you have to stop and go ‘Whoa, did I hear that right?' I didn't get too many growing up, and I know how important it is to hear the words. Sometimes they can make all the difference in the world.”
Jake nodded as he led Hifly back to the barn.
Emmie drove home slowly, repeating over and over,
Seventeen days till the Derby, seventeen days till the Derby, seventeen days till the Derby
. She was ready—so ready, she thought she was going to burst wide open with anticipation. And the anticipation had nothing to do with her ex-husband's promised visit on Derby Day. Absolutely nothing.
Just last night, while she and her father were watching television, he'd said, “Emmie, you don't need Buddy's approval. I think that's what you're looking for. Something to validate you, something to say, ‘Hey, look what you gave up. I'm going to run the Kentucky Derby. I am worth something, and it's your loss that you didn't see it.' ”
Was her father right? Probably. He was right about most things. She didn't love Buddy Owens. Way back when, her mother had told her she loved him. It was always easier to believe her mother than to disagree with her. Did she ever love Buddy? She'd certainly been fond of him because they'd grown up together, but it wasn't the bells-and-whistles kind of love she'd read about in magazines.
Dr. Hunter had said
Look it in the eye and deal with it.
Okay, yes, she wanted to rub Buddy Owens's nose in her accomplishments. No one liked to be rejected. No one. Even her own mother had rejected her to a degree. Well, she wasn't going to think about
that
and spoil what was left of the rest of the day.
There was something she needed to think about, though, and that was the farm her uncles Pyne and Rhy had left to her in their wills. She'd only been there once, but once was enough for her to know she never wanted to go back. SunStar was the root of all her mother's problems—hers, too, but she'd worked through her own problems. The logical thing to do was sell it, lock, stock, and barrel, and put the money into Gabby's trust fund. She'd mentioned it to her father and he'd agreed. The problem was, how was she going to tell her mother. Would her mother even care?
Damn. Where
did
she go every day at four o'clock?
 
 
The late-afternoon sunshine filtered through the venetian blinds and danced on the far wall above a tropical fish tank. The psychiatrist settled herself more comfortably and sipped her herbal tea. “We have thirty minutes left, Nealy. Is there anything special you'd like to bring up? Any cobwebs you need to clear away?”
Nealy eyed the fish swimming lazily around the tank, in and out of the evergreen decoration, through a mock tunnel and out the other side and then up to the top. “I think you need a bigger fish tank. It doesn't seem fair to keep them in such a small contained place. Don't they need more room? What kind of life is that?”
Liz eyed the fish tank. “You could be right. I'll look into it. How are things going with Emmie?”
Nealy beamed. “Very well. I never thought . . . never knew . . . she was as good as she is. I didn't know it rubbed off on her. She's got the whole thing down pat. I couldn't find one thing to criticize. Not that I would. No, that's not true, I would have, but I would have been more tactful than I used to be. I hate to say this, but I think she's better than I was.”
“Why do you hate to say it?”
Startled, Nealy blinked. “I guess I didn't . . . don't want her to be as good. She didn't work half as hard as I had to. She sailed in and took over. She stared me down and said, ‘I'm damn well going to do it.' I worked like a dog, all hours of the day and night. I was always exhausted, but I did it. I trained. She's just . . . doing it. Does that make sense to you?”
“The question is, Nealy, does it make sense to
you?”
“No. I resent it. She just stepped into it, whereas I had to bust my ass to get where I am, and you're damn right, I resent it. Those horses are mine with the exception of Hifly, who is hers. Blue Diamond Farms is
mine.
I damn well earned it. My whole life is in that farm, and she's entitled to
half.
Half of everything I broke my back to build to what that farm is today. Half. On top of that, she inherits SunStar Farms. It's not fair.”
“Why don't you sell your half to her? We already established that your attachment to Blue Diamond is mostly guilt and not love. You could sell out to her and move on.”
“That'll be the day! Until just recently, she never showed any real interest in the farm or the horses. She was content to take her dividend checks and blow the rest off. While I worked like a dog to make sure she got those handsome dividend checks.”

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