“Have some of this,” Nicolette said.
Lydia took a sip of the tea and leaned back against the chair. She had slipped out of her silks and under gear, and now wore loose beige linen slacks and a beige T-shirt. “Wasn’t that crazy?” she said, with a contemplative expression.
Nicolette sat next to Lydia and took her hand in hers. “I never want to experience that again,” she said.
“Things like that rarely happen. Should not happen…” Lydia’s voice trailed off.
“I’m just happy you’re ok.” Nicolette brushed her fingers across her cheek.
“I bet that fucking kid messed with my saddle,” Lydia said, with steel in her voice.
“What ki…”
“Fucking Adelmo. I’ll have his job and his nuts.”
“Oh, stop it,” Nicolette said, though her own mind was already probing possible suspects. “It was just an accident. Hyatt should have checked it anyway.”
“Like hell,” Lydia said. “That kid…” Nicolette kissed her, at first just to calm her, then more deeply as Lydia’s body rose against hers. Her hands trailed down Lydia’s neck. Lydia’s shudder made her face and temples burn with desire, but she pulled away.
“Do you want to go home and forget this whole thing?” Nicolette asked, her breathing uneven.
“What?” Lydia seemed dazed. “No. I have a date with Renatus in ninety minutes,” she said. Her eyes locked on to Nicolette’s now. “We are not going home.”
When they left the hotel shortly after, Lydia retreated to the jock’s room to prepare. Nicolette headed to the third floor bar just inside the grandstand. It featured several television screens for viewing the races. She ignored the screens altogether, and, after ordering vodka and coke, she found a comfy armchair on the opposite side of the room. She didn’t want to believe someone had deliberately tampered with Sweet Star’s saddle, but as she looked around the room at the sweaty, jangly-nerved men who had a stake in one race or another, her heart sank to her stomach. She knew how they felt, dangling on the precipice of luck or disaster. It would be so easy to give in to the temptation to control fate.
She flicked through several magazines blindly, willing time to pass. The air conditioning was on, yet she could feel perspiration seeping down her back. She removed her form-fitting white blazer, under which she wore a forest green silk top and white skinny jeans. She distracted herself with the crest emblazoned on her jacket – a green and white horseshoe above the words Shue Stables.
“You’ll get ’em next time.” An old fellow had taken the chair across from her, and was watching her closely. He held a crumpled up racing program, damp in his hand.
“Oh,” Nicolette said. “Thanks, but we haven’t raced yet.”
“Which race are you in?” he asked.
“Number ten.”
“The big one?” He pushed himself up from the chair and pointed at the screens. “It’s on now!”
Nicolette felt herself rise from the chair and glide over to the screens, where several men were standing around, fixated on the starting gates. Lydia and Renatus seemed to float from the gate as it opened. She saw them in a halting panorama, as a camera does when it fades to black, then suddenly comes back to life. They went around the track. The green and white darted through the middle, then made a beeline for the outside edge. For a moment they were caught between a small pack. They came down the backstretch, a trio of horses pounding the turf and billowing forward. She saw the rhythm of Lydia’s shoulders as if she were standing right next to her. Lydia’s arms, as they drove the horse’s neck, the whip flashing behind him. She saw Renatus’ head as it squeezed through at the finish line.
The old fellow took her jacket and waved it around in the air.
“Green and white takes it!” he said. Only when he gripped her shoulder and shook her, did Nicolette realize they had won.
After the flowers and the trophy presentation, and the pictures and local news interviews and long congratulations, Nicolette and Lydia were finally allowed to go back to their hotel. Before they could settle in, Hyatt was at the door with a bottle of champagne.
“Think I’d let you get away that easily?” His laugh was sturdy, his face red and sweaty from glee. They filled glasses and toasted to victory, their third toast of the evening’s events. “This one!” Hyatt pointed his glass at Nicolette. “What a coward. I was looking for you down in the trenches.”
“Leave her be,” Lydia said. “She’s not used to this madness.”
“I’m getting the hang of it,” Nicolette said. She felt a tinge of guilt for abandoning them by retreating to the television screens.
“You’ll have the hang of it when we get done,” Hyatt said, nodding at Lydia. “I’ve got the formula now. Did you see how we took them? Exactly as we planned, right Lyd?”
“Oh, we got ’em alright,” Lydia said, her voice matching Hyatt’s exuberance.
“We took ’em on that outside edge,” he said. “Yes, we did. Ran straight for home. You see what that old boy can do?”
“Renatus is magnificent. Did exactly what I asked him to,” Lydia said.
Nicolette let them go on like that for several minutes, praising the horse and the genius of their strategy, but when Hyatt mentioned he’d heard of some good young colts for sale, her ears perked up. “What’s this now?” she asked.
“Or we could buy the juices and breed our own,” Hyatt said.
“Juices?”
“He means we could purchase thoroughbred semen,” Lydia said.
“Hmmm.” Nicolette laughed.
“You’ve got a knack for picking a good horse,” he said. “A couple more Renatuses and we’re headed for Churchill Downs soon.”
“We could try him in Kentucky,” Lydia piped up. “Why the hell not? I don’t think we should hold him back at all.”
Nicolette smiled. For once she was on the same wavelength as her crazy companions. She could feel a hunger for the big leagues opening up within her, but she slipped away to the balcony when Hyatt pulled out his agenda book and pen. She wanted to bask in the moment awhile before planning the next adventure.
The cool air kissed her cheek as she stood against the railing, daydreaming into the dark night. A shadow moved in her peripheral vision. When she looked down she saw Adelmo step into the light, while another shadow retreated back into the trees. Adelmo strolled by beneath the balcony, oblivious to her presence. Nicolette’s thoughts galloped, much like Renatus had earlier that day. Her chest and ears burned from adrenaline coursing through her already intoxicated body. She quietly went down the stairs and followed in the direction she’d seen the boy go.
She caught sight of him when she neared the back of the building, his figure shrouded by the night shadows and his hat. When he stuck both hands into his pockets and cowered against the air, she knew he had sensed her presence. Adelmo twisted his body and glanced back. He jolted, surprised, and then she knew what was coming. He shot off like startled prey. Nicolette ran after him and when she rounded the corner, he was dashing between parked vehicles near the service entrance of the hotel. She picked up her speed. He jumped the fence that bordered the hotel and the adjoining lot, and she heard a loud rip as he crashed to the ground. Nicolette scaled the fence, tumbled, and fell on the dirt beside him. He spun and tried to get up. She grabbed at his pants, at the flap from the ripped section of his jeans. Adelmo turned, swatted and shoved her in one fluid motion, sending her back down.
Anger flushed through her and she swung her legs around, thwacking him across the knees. He buckled and she leapt onto his back, pushing his face into the dirt.
“What do ya want?” he screamed.
“Why did you run from me?” Nicolette’s breath was ragged.
“You were following me,” he hissed.
“I was taking a late night stroll,” she said, as she spun him around onto his back. “You happened to be in my path.”
“Bullshit.”
She got up and pulled hi
m to his feet. He looked back quickly in the direction of the front of the hotel, where she’d first seen him. That’s when Nicolette noticed his neck was bruised, like someone had grabbed at his collar, causing his skin to chafe against the fabric.
“What’s that?” she asked. He looked down and shrugged. “From your friend in the shadows?” He was tight-lipped, avoiding her eyes. “Who were you talking to back there?”
“It ain’t your business, is it?” He scowled.
“You don’t want me to find out on my own,” Nicolette warned. “Then I’m gonna be pissed you let me do all that work.”
He struggled to pull out of her grip. Nicolette released him and he took off running again. This time she did not follow.
In their hotel room the next day, Lydia stood over the bed with Nicolette’s dirt-stained white jeans in her hands. “What were you doing last night?” she asked. “Did you join the late night rodeo or something?”
“I went jockey-hunting,” Nicolette said, squinting as sleep weighed against her eyelids. “My new hobby.” Lydia giggled as Nicolette pulled her down. “Well, lookie-here. A real good one and I never even got out of bed!”
When Nicolette finally released her, Lydia poked her head up from among the sheets.
“Seriously,” she said. “What were you up to?”
“I went for a walk and I fell.” Nicolette shrugged. “Too much celebrating.” She didn’t want Lydia to get into a fit over Adelmo hiding in the shadows.
Lydia eyed her suspiciously. “Then you dragged yourself across the dirt?”
“We just won two hundred thousand dollars!” Nicolette beamed. “I was giddy.”
Lydia’s expression softened as she basked in the realization of their accomplishment. She threw her head back and laughed. “We won!”
When Nicolette returned to the ranch everything had changed. Fall arrived in luminous form, and flame-colored trees along the perimeter made her heart thump with anticipation. She made dinner every day, and when Lydia came by they ate and made love through the night. In the mornings they talked about all the possibilities and allowed themselves to daydream.
“I’m getting another horse,” Nicolette said one morning.
“And a business manager.” Lydia considered. “Someone to steer you right.”
Lydia sat up and looked at the clock on her phone. It was after two am.
“I have to go to work,” she said, groggily.
Nicolette slipped her arms around her waist and pulled her back to the pillow.
“You know what I’ve been thinking about?” Lydia mused, as they lay quietly together.
“What?”
“How come you didn’t want to race him?”
“Who?”
“Renatus.” Lydia turned to her. “Why did you hesitate in the beginning?”
Nicolette thought for a moment. “My risk-taking days were over,” she said. “I didn’t think I had it in me.”
“You’re just a baby.” Lydia laughed and shook her head. “Our lives are just beginning.”
It was true. They had so much ahead of them now. Nicolette thought about having her own stables on her own property, a fleet of thoroughbreds, and perhaps a companion for Gordita. The thought of Gordita amused her as she stared up at the ceiling.
When her cell phone rang Nicolette cursed under her breath and released Lydia. She rolled over and picked up.
“Nicolette?” The voice was frantic and raspy.
“Hyatt?” Nicolette sat up abruptly.
“Renatus is gone,” he huffed. “Somebody took him.”
Patrol cars lined the driveway at Frisch. Police officers stood in small clusters across the field and inside the stables. Nicolette was met by an older woman, blonde, with a shaggy pixie cut as she hurried across the lawn. “Detective Michelson,” she said, extending her hand. “Miss Shue?” Nicolette shook it quickly and slipped inside to Renatus’ stall. It was empty. Her twelve hundred pound beast was gone.
“Let’s move back,” Michelson said, ushering her and Lydia out. “Let them work.”
Nicolette realized she’d bypassed the police line drawn around the stable and the stall. Outside, markers had been put down in the dirt and sunken grass where there were visible foot prints. Lydia squeezed her hand. Emotions welled up inside Nicolette’s chest. Renatus was gone. Somebody took him. She heard Hyatt’s words again.
“Come with me,” Michelson said. She led them inside the house to the small office occupied by Hyatt, who sat motionless on a couch against the wall. He stood when he saw the women.
“The stable hand, Victor, came around four,” Hyatt announced. “He said he went to Renatus’ stall and he was not there.”
“And Adelmo?” Nicolette asked. “Where was he?”
“Adelmo?” Hyatt looked confused. “I fired him two days ago. He’d been missing work with no good explanation so I let him go.”
“Sit down,” Michelson said to everyone. She wore all black except for a light brown trench, which she removed and hung across the back of the chair. David Frisch had entered the room and looked very skittish, his graying hair damp from perspiration. No doubt he’d already been in contact with his lawyers. A thoroughbred valued at approximately three hundred and fifty thousand dollars had disappeared while under the care of his establishment.
Nicolette remained standing, rapid fire calculations going on in her mind. Perhaps this was a simple act of theft: Someone saw something valuable and decided to take it. She pushed that idea aside. This was no innocent taking.
“First of all,” Michelson said, looking up at her. Nicolette towered above everyone. She wore dark blue jeans and a light denim shirt, tucked in and rolled to the elbows. A thin green belt and a long ponytail feminized her slender frame, but she stood with her arms akimbo and stared intently at the detective. Michelson cleared her throat. “First of all, Miss Shue, there are surveillance cameras and my men are combing through those now.”
David Frisch nodded eagerly in Nicolette’s peripheral vision.
“How long will it take?” she asked. “Where was security? Was there no one safeguarding the property overnight?”
Frisch piped up. “We have grooms who patrol throughout the night. They never saw anything suspicious.”
“Until my horse was already gone.” Nicolette glared at him.
“It will take a few hours, at most, to go through the footage,” Michelson offered.
“Any prints? Motive?”
“Nothing conclusive yet, but this is where you come in.” Michelson opened her notebook. “I need to take your statement.”
“Can you give us a few minutes?” Nicolette said to Hyatt. Once he and Frisch had exited the room, she took a seat next to Lydia, across from Detective Michelson.
“Do you know of anyone who would want to steal your horse?”
Nicolette knew Dracus Adley hated her. Adelmo was not a fan, certainly not after their little encounter at Monmouth. An envious ex-girlfriend out for revenge? Hardly, since she left most of her relationships on decent terms. Someone from jail she’d rubbed the wrong way? She’d also pulled some jackass stunts in the past with her friends while high…
Michelson’s eyebrows shot up as the wheels turned in Nicolette’s head. She sat back and crossed her legs. “Let’s go through them one at a time.”
The opposite side of the avenue was illuminated by gold and copper leaves as they were struck by the retreating sun. Nicolette remained in her truck for another half hour, until the trees became a black backdrop against the orange sunset.
Renatus had been missing for a week. Security cameras revealed that Adelmo had led him from the stables, quiet and calm, into the night. The police posted flyers and combed racetracks, rodeos and various horse events in a five hundred mile radius. The trail ran hot and cold. They explored all possible connections the boy might have. His personal ones were very thin since he had no known family; his professional connections led to dead ends.
Nicolett
e had told Detective Michelson about Adelmo and his shadowy friend outside her hotel in New Jersey. Michelson had her antennas out for any potential transactions that came over the wire. She monitored auctions and sales, hoping Adelmo would be stupid enough to try and sell Renatus, but the boy and the horse had all but disappeared.
Nicolette got out of her truck and slowly walked up the paved driveway. Inside and outside the house was dark and silent. The curtain at one window was slightly askew, and she peered in. At no sign of movement she pulled up the hood on her black fall jacket and went to the back. She saw nothing on Adley’s premises to facilitate a horse, even if he had taken one. There was a John Deer lawn mower, a splattering of crisp fall leaves, and a set of wooden chairs around a wooden, rain-soaked table.
Nicolette turned over the slender plank in her hand. She’d brought it with her from the ranch, but now it seemed foreign, preposterous. What had she been thinking? She dropped the plank and turned to see Dracus Adley standing on his back steps with a shotgun aimed at her. Her muscles flinched and froze. She was immobilized by the barrels pointed at her, and his eyes.
“Should I flatten you here? Now?”
It was an earnest question, asked in a puzzled, justified tone. Nicolette tried to raise her arms in surrender, but only managed to turn her palms up, pleading in that small gesture.
“My horse,” she said finally.
“What about your horse?”
“Someone took him.” She hardly recognized her own voice.
“Do you see horses here?”
Nicolette turned, again surveying the backyard. The neighbor’s oak tree had been relieved of the limbs that were closest to Adley’s property. Along the barbwire fence the young hedge twined and twisted, and she could see a furry tail scurrying on the vines. The yard was bare, except for the lawn mower and wooden table and chairs.
Fallen leaves whisked across the ground in the light breeze.
She turned to face him again. “No horse here,” she said, resigned, waiting.
He raised the shotgun and leveled it with her forehead.
“So,” he said. “Wanna get flattened here? Now?” His demeanor contained the same earnestness as his voice.