Blood and Roses (Holly Jennings Thriller) (31 page)

She grasped his hands, her own hands shaking, tears of joy streaming down her face. She nodded. “Yes, O’Leary. I will marry you.”

He leaped up and kissed her hard as millions of viewers on television witnessed the proposal.

It had been quite a day in the world of horse racing.

85

“Horse sense is the thing a horse has which keeps it from betting on people.”
—W. C. Fields

A horse can be told she’s a winner, draped in roses, and immortalized in pictures, but she probably doesn’t really understand.

What a horse does seem to understand is kindness, good feed, and an open field. Those are the rewards for the horse.

86

When Holly opened her eyes, the first thing she noticed was a large bouquet of red roses. What the…? And then the memory came rushing back. The ambulance, Ted Ivy, the racetrack, the pond, the crash and explosion.

As the ambulance hit the water and began sinking, Holly had clambered to get out as quickly as she could. She had taken a chance that the explosives would not have the same destructive capacity once in the water. She also knew that she only had seconds to escape.

She had tried to push open the driver’s side door of the ambulance. Ted’s body fell on top of her. His weight and the water flooding in caused panic to speed up every beat of her heart.

Holly had squirmed under Ted and pushed her way through. The driver’s door was stuck as the vehicle continued to roll farther onto its side. She had maneuvered both of her feet and with every ounce of strength she could muster she kicked at the passenger door. The door opened and water flowed in. She held her breath and worked her way out. As she did, the bomb went off. She had flown straight out of the water. That was all she remembered.

“Jack?” she said softly.
Where was he?

“No, honey. It’s me.” It was Brendan, and he sounded confused. “Shh. It’s okay. You had a pretty hard blow to the head. You’re lucky to be here, love.”

Everything hurt, hurt bad all over. She focused on Brendan at her side. Tears were in his eyes. “We are lucky to have you.”

He took her hand, and she squeezed his. He sat back down in a chair next to her. “Oh God, Holly, we are so lucky.”

A nurse came in. “Oh, look who is awake. Wonderful. How do you feel?”

“Like hell,” Holly muttered.

“I’m sure you do. You are quite the hero, Detective. The talk of the town, the country, the world.”

“I am?”

“You saved a lot of people. It appears to have been some type of terrorist plot. But I’m certain you know that already. That Ivy guy was a crazy anarchist wanting to make some kind of statement. They say he was driving that ambulance straight for the tunnel under the Prestige Box.” She shook her head. “Absolutely crazy! But thanks to you, that didn’t happen.”

Holly’s brain tried to keep up with the nurse’s words. Some of it was true. Some of it was not. Where was Bradley? Where was Jack? She looked at Brendan, who said, “I think she’s tired. Maybe we should let her rest.”

The nurse nodded. “Of course. I just came to change her meds.”

She switched out the IV bag. Another nurse entered the room. “If you don’t mind, I need to change the dressing on her backside.”

Holly’s butt hurt like hell. “What…?” she asked.

“Glass shard. The doctors removed it. You also have some broken ribs,” the second nurse replied.

“I can feel them.”

“And you have a broken leg.”

“I would hate to see what my face looks like. It hurts, too.”

“You have some cuts and bruises, but you’ll heal.”

The first nurse left the room.

“You are beautiful,” Brendan said.

Holly struggled to sit up. There was something about the nurse that seemed familiar.

“Want to give us a minute?” the nurse asked Brendan.

“Sure. I’ll get some coffee and be right back. You go back to resting, love. I’ll be here when you wake.”

Holly grimaced as she turned her head to the side and spotted a few more bouquets. She also saw a small potted plant.

A plumeria.

Jack.

Her heart sank.

Brendan.

With the door closed, the nurse came closer and leaned over Holly.

“Sam?”

She nodded.

“What’s going on?” Holly asked.

“I need to brief you, and we need to be quick.”

“Jack? Where is he?”

“He’s gone, Holly. He’s on his way to Washington. He knows of your status.”

“My status?!”

“Listen, you’re both different now. You need to live your life and forget you ever saw him. What you need to do is revel in the fact that you are a hero. You took out someone who murdered four people in cold blood and planned to murder a whole lot more.”

“I don’t understand. What happened to Bradley?”

“He’s in custody at a government hospital. He may or may not live. Jack took him down.”

“Aren’t you going to let the American people—the world—know who was behind all of this?” Holly struggled to ask.

Sam shrugged. “No. That would not be a good plan. Bradley once worked for us. He worked high up for us. If it came out what
he was planning to do, I don’t think it would reflect well on our government. Do you?”

“I don’t think lies reflect well,” Holly said. She swallowed hard. Her throat burned. She remembered Jack and making love to Jack. And now he was gone again. As deceitful as the government that employed him. He had betrayed her once again, and she had betrayed a man who truly loved her. That all-encompassing guilt and self-hatred held onto her. “What will you tell a public who believed that Bradley Quentin was a good guy? A financier? Someone who designed state-of-the-art security systems?”

Sam bent closer to her and lowered her voice. “Here’s a really interesting thing about the American people…they are really gullible. You don’t need to worry about Bradley’s story. It will be bought and sold by the media. Go live your life, Holly, and let all of this disappear. What the people don’t know cannot hurt them. Be smart. You continue being one of the good guys, and so will we. We just work on different levels. Separately.”

Holly nodded and closed her eyes, reading between the lines. Sam left the room. Jack was gone again, fighting for the government. The good guys? She wasn’t sure any longer who was good and who was bad. She wasn’t even sure about herself.

Brendan came back in. She may not have known who all the good guys were any longer. She had doubts about the man she once called
husband
.

But she knew one good guy was still left standing in this world.

And she was looking at him.

87

Three weeks later

Edwin Hodges saw that Marvin Tieg’s documentary did air, with the addition of what had taken place at the Infinity.

Holly watched.

The show made her question a lot of things.

She remembered the conversation she’d had with Brendan before she left for the Infinity as she sat on the couch petting their new kitten, Piper. The conversation regarding humans and the good, the bad, the ugly.

She’d learned a lot about horse racing in a short amount of time and her verdict on the sport was still out. She had discovered the good, the bad, and the ugly within that world.

Hodges had gone ahead and included Scott Christiansen and his Equine Health Systems in the documentary. The short segment showcased the passion and will on Christiansen’s part to better the life of the horse. Holly wondered if the people who owned, trained, and ran racehorses would consider the option to better support the animals’ legs. She didn’t know.

The other good she’d found on the track were people like Elena and Leann Purdue and Pete O’Leary. After Elena returned home
from Vegas, Leann had flown out to see her sister and heal, if she could, from all she had been through.

Leann had invited Holly and her family out to Elena’s place in Ramona. The family had met the now very famous Karma’s Revenge, who was enjoying her time off the track in a green pasture with an old friend.

“This is Badger,” Elena told them. “He was born here and then sold off as a yearling. I’d heard that his owner recently passed away, so I decided to get him back. Think I’ve made her happy.” Elena pointed to the horses standing side by side, grazing, and occasionally nuzzling each other.

Pete O’Leary was a nice man who, Holly discovered, was writing a book about Ivy and the incidents that took place. He’d even interviewed Holly, who could not be as truthful as she wanted to be. The truth in its entirety would never be disclosed.

As Brendan, the girls, and the rest of them watched the horses enjoy the lazy afternoon, Leann asked, “That agent you were working with from the FBI. Twinnings?”

Holly crossed her arms. She had not mentioned him to Brendan. “Yes.”

“Have you heard from him? You guys seemed to work well together. Efficient.”

“No.” Holly shook her head. “He’s with the government. I didn’t know him until he was brought on the case. It’s very doubtful that I’ll ever work with him again.”

“Oh.”

Brendan was watching her. He took her hand. “She’s going to take some time off so we can plan that wedding.”

“That’s right,” she agreed.

The good. People like Leann, Elena, O’Leary, and Scott Christiansen.

The bad.

People like Perez, who was under investigation by the racing commission for misconduct. It had come to light that Perez had been behind the drugging of Cayman’s Cult last year—definitely not Rafael Torres. Perez, along with Tieg, had helped set up the facility where the dermorphin was being made in Guadalajara.

Laugherty, too.

The truth about the fire, the drugs given to Farooq’s colt—everything was coming out, and Laugherty was likely going to jail for a long time.

The bad.

The ugly.

The ugly—the real ugly that Holly had discovered was the apathy across the nation for what went on with some of the horses on the track. The racinos, the money before the animals, numerous unnecessary deaths at such young ages. A seediness that was truly ugly.

She thought about herself as she got up and turned the TV off. She’d recorded the documentary. Her family was now in bed, but she had not been able to sleep.

Earlier in the evening, Brendan had shown her the koi pond he’d finished. Next to it he had planted the plumeria. The one that Jack had left.

Now she wondered…Brendan had said she was nothing but good. Holly knew, even as she prepared to marry Brendan, that she did have some bad in her, and she did have some ugly. And as she climbed into bed with the man soon to be her husband, she couldn’t help wondering what the other man she’d once called husband was doing at that moment.

She kissed the sleeping Brendan on the cheek, knowing that the good in her had made the right decision.

Brendan was the right choice.

First, I want to acknowledge and thank all the readers who e-mailed me and commented that they wanted more of Holly Jennings. I never expected to write another Holly thriller, and now I can’t wait to give readers more. So, thank you!

I have to acknowledge my dear friend Terri Rocovich. Terri is one of the most educated horse women I have ever had the privilege to know and call friend. She grew up on the tracks, breezed horses, and if I don’t have the answer, I go to Terri. She does an amazing job with my own horses and I am indebted to her for her support, friendship, and wealth of knowledge that she shares freely and honestly.

I want to thank Corine Selders, DVM, who is also a friend and always willing to help advise me when writing medical information concerning our equine partners.

Monty Crist deserves a big thank you from me. Without his support and understanding over this past year, I don’t think I would have been able to write this book.

My gratitude goes out to two of the best friends anyone could have—Jessica Park and Andrew E. Kaufman. Thank You, for seeing me through some dark days.

I have to thank Nicholas Newman of Lexington, Kentucky, who took my daughter and me on a tour through gorgeous Thoroughbred country. I think my dad was in on that and made certain we met.

Thank you to my dear friend Seyamack Kouretchian who helped me come up with a plot twist that I hope no one saw coming.

I also want to thank twenty of the most supportive, talented women writers in the world. I am blessed to be a part of something amazing. They know who they are.

Huge thanks to Anita Kemper who is an angel on Earth and my aunt is always my first reader, and always tells me the truth.

I need to acknowledge my family. My husband, John, who picks up the slack when I am writing, grills a mean steak, and always has a glass of wine waiting for me at the end of the day; my sons, Alex and Anthony, who inspire me every day; my daughter, Kaitlin, who is a talented equestrian, and who understands when Mom needs to be writing. Kait, you put a smile on my face every single day and just for that alone, you need to be acknowledged. This is all for you guys.

Many thanks to the team at Thomas & Mercer. You are all a joy to work with! I feel blessed to be a part of the family.

Finally, I have to give a huge thank you, to my mom. She is the one who has supported my passion for horses since I was a little girl, and now helps support her granddaughter. My parents built a company that gives back every day to horses. It has not been an easy year with losing my dad, who was always my biggest fan, but together Mom and I have muddled through. She is the one who reminded me that I needed to get “that book written.” My dad would have expected me to stay the course, and so I did.

I love you always, Daddy.