Blood and Roses (Holly Jennings Thriller) (20 page)

But since they’d arrived, she hadn’t seen much of O’Leary. She’d been busy with Karma and he’d actually been hired by Rafael Torres to exercise the colt he had running, after his regular exercise rider wound up injuring himself the day they’d arrived. It was a lucky break for O’Leary. What he didn’t know was that Elena had been watching him during morning workouts just as much as she’d watched Natalie on Karma. O’Leary looked good on the colt out there. She hoped he would find himself a horse again that would take him to the top. No matter the controversy in his past, Elena knew he was a good man who deserved another break.

And he wanted another chance with her. He hadn’t had to spell that one out, but she knew, and she was scared. He had broken her heart. He’d lied. He’d been paid off by her dad and she didn’t know
if allowing him back into her life was a smart thing to do. She’d known, or should have known, that once she even slightly opened that door, she could easily be sucked in. Dammit.

Karma stood in the cross ties. Elena swiped a brush along her back. She then found the pressure points along the horse’s top line. She spent the next thirty minutes applying pressure to various spots. The filly stood quietly in the cross ties, relaxing under Elena’s touch. Elena spoke softly to her as she worked. Every once in a while she would slip a baby carrot from her pocket and feed it to the horse. Spoiling her girl was as much fun as it was important in order to keep the horse happy and healthy. Karma had the best of everything—food, health care, exercise, bedding. Whatever this horse (or most any horse racing at her level) needed, she would definitely have the best of.

As she carefully scanned her legs for any cuts, scrapes, bites, or swelling, she heard a voice behind her. “Hey, El.”

She stood and turned around. “O’Leary.”

He smiled. He held a basket in his hand. “She is looking gorgeous.”

“Yes, she is.”

O’Leary walked over to Karma and stroked her neck. “Like you.”

Elena rolled her eyes. “What’s in the basket, Pete?”

“Dinner.”

“Oh.”

O’Leary set the basket on a bench along the side of the barn. “We all have to eat, and you did say we’d have dinner together. I was hoping that tonight might work. Haven’t seen much of you since we got here.”

She shook her head. “You always did have that way about you.”

“What way is that?”

“Kind of charming.”

“Oh, I’m charming, huh? You flirting with me, Purdue?”

She laughed. “Let’s have that dinner.”

“Got an empty stall on this row?”

“As a matter of fact, there is one.” She pointed three stalls down.

“You put your girl away, and I’ll set up,” he said.

“Okay then.”

“Okay then.”

She watched as O’Leary walked into the stall, basket in hand. She undid the cross-ties and led the mare back into her stall, where dinner already awaited her. Things were quieting down around the barns for the evening.

She closed the door and headed to the stall where O’Leary had set up dinner. Opening the door, she was taken aback. In a few short minutes O’Leary had turned the empty stall into something magical, and damn if her stupid heart didn’t skip a beat. He’d laid out a thick blanket, along with two folding chairs and a pop-up table with a tablecloth. A vase holding two red roses sat atop the table. He had an iPod set up with a small speaker playing Sade. Music from when they had been together.

He motioned for her to sit down. “When did you sneak this past me?” she asked.

“I have my ways. When you were out with Karma on the grass. Lucky for me, you bring her in on the other end and didn’t pass by this stall and spoil it.”

“I’d say, lucky for me. If I didn’t know better, Pete, I’d say you’re trying to get into my pants.”

Ha laughed and practically choked. “You know me too well. But no. I mean, that would be great. Don’t get me wrong. That would be wonderful. I know it would…”

She knew it would, too. “The roses. Nice touch.”

“I thought so. One for you. One for the filly. Won’t be long before you see that blanket of roses draped across her neck.”

“I sure hope so.”

“She’s got it. That mare has the speed, the determination to do it. I’ve watched her. I’ve been out there clocking her.”

“She’s special.”

“Like you,” he said. “And as far as us sleeping together tonight: as much as that sounds perfect and I am totally all in, I believe that would make me a bit of a jerk, don’t you think?”

Elena caught that sparkle in his eyes. She wasn’t so sure that would make him such a jerk. Making love with O’Leary had given her some of the best moments of her life, but for now she decided to agree with him. “I suppose it would.”

“Right. Just making sure you agree with me. I think for tonight, we just hang out. Have some dinner and visit.”

“You are still a charmer after all these years.”

“And you are still the most beautiful woman I have ever known.”

She swallowed hard. “Wine?”

“I did bring some, but not for me. Only for you.”

“Really?”

“Really. I stopped drinking, El.”

“You did? When?”

“The day we had breakfast. So, what, three days ago? Look, El, I’ve done some stupid shit in my life. Made mistakes I’m not proud of. But the biggest mistake I ever made was trading you in. I should have told your dad to forget it. But I was stupid. I don’t want to make that mistake again. Now I have no idea if you are even interested in me at all. I wouldn’t blame you if you told me to go screw myself and get out of your life. I wouldn’t blame you. I’m hoping…I’m
praying
you won’t do that. And if there’s the slightest chance with you, I know it’s time to get my shit back together. I gotta get straight. I just do. I’ve been watching you all these years. I know we run in the same crowd, and I’ve been biting my tongue.
When you were with that jackass Carter, I wanted to tear that guy’s head off. Then, when he broke your heart, I could see how bad you were hurting. And I wanted to tear my own head off because if I hadn’t hurt you in the first place, you would have never wound up with that guy. So…”

“So what?”

“So, should I go screw myself? Or…”

“Or what?” Yes, she wanted to make him squirm a little bit.

“You interested?”

She reached for his hand across the table. “Yeah, Pete. I’m interested.”

42

What delight
To back the flying steed, that challenges
The wind for speed!—seems native more of air
Than earth!—whose burden only lends him fire!
Whose soul, in his task, turns labor into sport!
Who makes your pastime his! I sit him now!
He takes away my breath! He makes me reel!
I touch not earth—I see not, hear not. All
Is ecstasy of motion!
—James Sheridan Knowles

The starting gate can scare some horses.

It can take days for them to become accustomed to the noise.

They’re led to the gate, over and over. They sometimes jig side to side, nervous about the strange, confining space.

Trainers can work for months with a horse, to soothe a filly or colt into the gate, to teach her to not startle at the bell, to urge him to run when the gates open.

43

Farooq checked on Whiskey. His colt had settled in fine. The flight had gone well and Laugherty had heeded Farooq’s subtle warning to get himself together. He had shown up for the flight on time, which took off at 1:30 EST and landed in Las Vegas at 3:30 PST. By the time Whiskey was unloaded from the sheikh’s personal 767 cargo compartment—refitted specially for his horses so that they would not have to ever fly public—and transported to the facility, it was dinnertime.

The colt appeared happy and relaxed. The larger stalls helped. Farooq was impressed.

However, his heart was heavy. No matter that the event of his best horse’s life was to take place in a few short days.

He performed his regular ritual, rubbing his hands down Whiskey’s legs. On the back leg, the one with the white stocking, there was a small wind puff—an inflammation to the fetlock. “What in the world? Geremiah!” he called. The trainer was right outside the stall.

“Yes, sir?”

“What is this?”

Geremiah came into the stall and ran his hand down the leg. “I don’t think we need to be concerned, sir. He’s had some inflammation on and off, but this is nothing.”

“Nothing? Nothing!”

“It’s so slight. I think this could even be an insect bite.”

The sheikh stood and crossed his arms. “Get him on ice and call the vet.”

“Sir, I don’t think we want to alarm anyone. There will be a jog out daily here. This horse is sound. I promise you, Your Highness. The colt is completely sound.”

The sheikh studied Laugherty for a moment. “I want him iced anyway. You’d better be right.”

“You’ve see him move. You know as well as I do there’s no lameness.”

The sheikh nodded. His phone rang. He looked at the number and his stomach sank. “Watch him. Report any change to me immediately.”

“Of course.”

Farooq walked away. “Yes?”

Waqqas said, “We need another transfer of funds.”

“No. I am busy.”

“Sheikh, I suggest you think again. We need fifteen million dollars.”

“That is ludicrous!” he hissed into the phone. “Money like that gets noticed. I can’t do it.”

“Find a way. We have a cause to move forward.” The phone line went dead.

Farooq looked back at Whiskey’s stall. He felt tears come to his eyes and quickly blinked them away.

He was stuck. An image of Wallid came to mind. God, how he hated Naqeeb Waqqas!

Farooq sighed and wiped perspiration from his brow. He knew what he had to do.

44

“This case is a hard one,” Holly said into the phone. “I miss you guys.”

“We miss you, too,” Brendan said. “It’s not the same here without you. Our girls run all over me.”

“You’re the dad. Make them mind.”

“I will. I have a surprise.”

“Another surprise? Brendan, the koi pond is plenty.”

“This is a little different.”

“Um…okay.”

“Remember the kitten I told you about? The one in the tailpipe?”

“Yes.”

“The girls named him Piper.”

“Brendan!”

“I know. I couldn’t help it. The people who found the poor baby in the pipe didn’t want him, and he can’t go to the shelter, and the girls will take such good care of him. He’s a mess, but he’s going to live. I think he’ll see out of one eye.”

She couldn’t help but smile. He knew how to take the edge out of her. “I can’t wait to meet him.”

“Get home. Love you.”

“I love you, too.” She hung up the phone.

The motel room in Eddyville was not exactly a five star. She turned on the TV for some noise, thoughts of home and family warming
her heart. She hoped the dreams about Jack would stop before she got back. Ever since she’d seen the man who looked so much like him the other night in the hotel, her subconscious mind had been bringing him to her nightly, in her dreams. She still had the plumeria charm with her. She’d moved it from her sweater into a pocket of her purse. Why hadn’t she just socked it away? If she was honest, having the charm with her made her feel like Jack was around, made her feel like his spirit was close by guiding her through the case. That was stupid, but that’s how she felt. She wished that she’d been able to say goodbye to him—a wish she’d repeated nearly every day for ten years.

She decided to check in with Chad and Amar. She finally reached her partner.

“Any news?” she asked.

“Big news. My baby is on the way!”

“Oh my God. Is that why your phone was off earlier?”

“Yeah. Brooke was having an ultrasound. I meant to call you back, but things moved quickly. I’m sorry. I don’t have anything more to add on the interviews at Equine Health Systems. I was already at the hospital by the time I heard Amar’s message about the Christiansens being heavily involved in PAAC. Brooke is seven centimeters, so I should be able to get back over there tomorrow at some point and continue questioning people. As far as Gershon goes, I can’t locate the guy. He’s not answering his phone. I think we should have Amar see if he’s still around.”

“He might be in Vegas. Seems that’s where all of these people are going. Makes me wonder if one of us should be there, too. Our guy could be setting up to strike before the big race.”

“He could. I think you’d better see what you can find in Kentucky, and then we can regroup.”

“Agreed,” she replied. “And don’t worry about getting back to Christiansen’s company. Stay with your wife and baby. Get someone else over there. If they find anything, let me know.”

“Okay. Thanks…Uh-oh. My girl is in pain. Contraction coming on.”

“Do whatever she tells you to do!”

“I am.”

“Smart man. And, Chad, congrats. You’re going to be a great dad. My love to Brooke.”

“Thanks, partner.”

Holly hung up the phone not feeling as low. New babies could do that for people, it seemed. A renewed sense of urgency rose up in her chest—she really wanted to find the answers to this case, get home and meet the new addition to Chad’s family, and then spend time with her own.

Amar hadn’t called her back. He said that he would. It was already past six in California. Holly ate the Subway sandwich she’d picked up on the drive to Eddyville and settled into a comfortable position on the bed.

In the middle of the turkey and cheddar, her text notification chimed. Amar had written,
Check your e-mail.

She turned on her laptop and navigated to the email from Amar—a forward. He wrote his own message at the top.
I think we need to look into this. One of my guys found this IM exchange between Tieg and an unknown contact inside the Kentucky State Penitentiary. The exchange was from four months ago. The IP address originates from within the pen, but it will take some time to establish the identity of the direct contact.

She read further and was stunned by the e-mail exchange between Tieg and someone he referred to simply as
Contact
.

It started with Tieg:
How’s our boy been?