Bullet Work

by Steve O'Brien

  After the start of the year, the shared birthday of all horses, she became a two-year-old and was broken and began her training to become a racehorse. Two-year-olds typically don’t race until the summer. Some tracks would write races for two-year-olds earlier than that, but it was risky.

  The pressure to get in race shape can damage a young horse, and the potential would never be achieved. The knees of two-year-olds continued forming until well into the summer. Most trainers wouldn’t think of starting a two-year-old until July.

  Reports of Aly Dancer’s progress were always upbeat and promising, but then again, the message came from the person who had a vested interest in managing the horse for a long time. If the trainer said the horse was a bum, he’d cut off part of his revenue potential, even though it might be in the owner’s best interest.

  Dan had come to trust Jake Gilmore as a first-class horseman, but he learned early that, in this game, he had to trust himself first. It was his money, his name, his stable, his sports franchise. If Dan wanted to stick around this game, he’d have to learn everything and question everything. His background as a lawyer served him well in that regard.

  Hero’s Echo had just been offloaded from the trailer and settled in his stall. Dan and Jake briefly debated bringing him to the track, given the attacks, but he didn’t make any money resting on the farm. He’d been galloped several times at Kenny Laughlin’s farm, but he was probably a few weeks away from being able to make a start. The recuperation from throat surgery had gone well, and, according to Jake, he hadn’t lost that much conditioning as a result.

  Beth DeCarlo, one of Jake’s newest grooms, was in the stall with Hero’s Echo, scratching the side of his neck and cooing softly to him. She was the size of an Olympic gymnast. Maybe one hundred pounds if she wore work boots and had a few horseshoes in her back pocket.

  She had soft features, almost childlike. It was hard to determine her age. She could pass for either eighteen or twenty-eight. Her demeanor and command around horses clearly put her at the top end of the scale. Her grayish blue eyes and youthful looks gave her a pixie-like quality. Despite her size and compassion, she was in complete control of the relationship with her equine subjects. Her blonde hair was trimmed short, pageboy style. It made good sense working on the backside.

  Although Dan had seen her around Jake’s barn, today was the first time they had met. She would be the groom, the principal caregiver for Hero’s Echo, as she was for Aly Dancer.

  A noise from behind Dan caused him to turn around. A stocky man in jeans, white pearl buttoned shirt, and blue sport coat approached. Pretty dressy for the backside, Dan thought.

  “Hey, Jake. How you doing?” said the man.

  “Good, John, and you?”

  “Rumor is you got a nice filly on the grounds,” John said, peering into the stall nearest him.

  “Got a lot of nice horses,” Jake said, starting to move past the man.

  “Yeah, well, I know what I know.” The man eyed Beth, then shifted to catch Jake before he went by. “If she’s going to be the best, you need to match her with the best. You know, guarantee that you get the maximum from her.”

  “I got a rider,” Jake said.

  “Jake, we’ll give you first call on any three horses in the barn—give us a shot with the filly. You won’t be disappointed. There’s a reason Dagens has been the leading rider here for the past two years.”

  “Thanks, John. I’ll give you a call if I need a rider,” Jake said as he continued walking away.

  “You name it, Jake—first call on any three horses.” John skipped forward to catch Jake. “Hey, while I’m here, I wanted to invite you to a steak fry tomorrow night. My place. Tidewater Court, you know it?”

  “Yeah, I know it.”

  “Stop by if you can.” John turned to Beth. “You’re invited too. You’re always invited, honey.”

  Beth shot him a deadly stare.

  Jake stopped and turned back. “All right, you said your piece. Now move along.”

  “Call me Jake. Seriously,” John said as he walked out of the shedrow toward the road.

  Dan jogged the few steps to catch Jake and fell in alongside. “That was awkward,” Dan said.

  “Some guys have no class,” Jake said.

  “Jock agents by nature generally have no class,” Dan said. Jake harrumphed.

  “But Jake,” said Dan. “Why wouldn’t we put Dagens up on Aly Dancer? Guy’s right; there’s a reason why Dagens wins.”

  “Hands are too hard,” Jake said.

  Dan stopped; a puzzled look ran across his face. Jake continued around the corner of the shedrow.

  Chapter 13

  After ensuring that all was in order, Dan left the barn and sauntered down the road to Crok’s for a cup of coffee. Beth came scampering up behind him.

  “Mind if I walk along? I’m just going to Crok’s,” she said.

  “Not a problem.”

  “Thanks,” she said, jogging up alongside. Her blonde hair bobbed in time with her steps.

  “Want a cup of coffee? I’m buying.” He turned, looking over and smiling.

  “Nah, just gonna grab a soda. I need to get back to do some wraps. Another time maybe.”

  Another time? he thought. That’s interesting.

  “That filly’s a good one,” she said.

  “Aly Dancer?”

  “Yep. She’s got black type all over her.”

  Black type referred to the pedigree book, where past accomplishments of mares and stallions were listed to show the progeny’s family. Black type meant winning graded or restricted races. Beth meant that the filly had the ability to win those kinds of races. It was a high compliment. Owners of untested two-year-olds were told that, mostly by the stable hands and trainers who were paid to maintain the animals. Beth’s remark seemed more sincere than most.

  Dan knew better than to put faith in the opinion of backside help. But he couldn’t help himself. He liked this girl. He didn’t know why.

  “Hope you’re right about her. Hey, I asked Jake about putting Dagens up on Aly Dancer,” he said.

  “You don’t want him,” she said, her disgust apparent.

  “Why not? His record speaks for itself.”

  “He’s a good enough rider. I just think he’s a weirdo.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “Oh, he hangs around the backside when he don’t need to. Nights sometimes. Guy’s a little freaky.”

  “Jake said something about Dagens’ hands being too hard. Thought I’d heard it all. What’s that?” Dan said.

  “He’s very rough with horses, not abusive, but aggressive right to the line,” Beth said. “With a filly like Aly Dancer, you want a rider who can get the best from her but also be conscious of her experiences and development. Soft hands if you will.” They walked a few steps in silence, then Beth turned to him. “These are highly strung, temperamental animals. Good riders will keep the horse happy and give them confidence. That’s how you build a champion.”

  “So who’s he going to ride?” Dan asked.

  “Don’t know. He’s had a few guys over to exercise her. I don’t think he’s decided,” she said. “As you’ve seen, word’s getting out on her. But you know Jake—never one to rush a decision.”

  Dan turned to her and in a hushed tone asked, “Jake okay?”

  “Yeah, I s’pose. Why?”

  “He just seems off somehow.” They moved slowly on the side of the asphalt roadway. “Never in my life would I question how he manages and develops horses, but I can’t understand why he won’t pay the fee to protect the stable.”

  “He’s got one of us on the grounds around the clock, since this all happened,” she said. “We’ll be okay.”

  “I don’t want to be okay. I want to be safe. I want to be sure. He’s taking a risk he doesn’t need to take,” Dan said. “Won’t even talk about it with me.”

  “He can be hard-headed. I guess, all good trainers are a little hard-headed.�
�� She chuckled; Dan didn’t.

  “I can’t be the only owner who’s upset about this,” he said.

  She shuffled along a few steps. “Nope. He’s gotten a few calls. But he says we can handle it. If you feed the bears, they keep coming back. He’s not going to get started. I admire him for that.”

  “I think it’s unnecessary,” he said. “Why take a risk you can easily avoid? Better hope they catch this guy before something happens.”

  They walked along in silence several strides.

  “So how long were you married?” Beth asked.

  Dan looked at her with stunned surprise.

  “Jake told me.”

  Of course he did. Probably shouldn’t bother me that much, he thought. It just seemed odd to be hearing it out loud for the first time.

  “Eight years.”

  “What was her name?” she asked.

  “What difference does it make?”

  “Just curious, you know,” she said.

  “Vickie.”

  “You don’t look like someone married to a Vickie.”

  “Where the hell were you eight years ago? Could have saved me a lot of trouble. What are you, a fortune teller or something?”

  She chuckled and looked down.

  “Actually, I really loved Vickie,” Dan said. “At least at the start. Not so much that we fell out of love as I guess we just moved apart.” He couldn’t bring himself to say that maybe he resented her success. He certainly couldn’t admit it to himself.

  “Kids?”

  “Well, aren’t you the forward one.”

  “Just wondering. Don’t mean no harm.”

  They stopped as a rider on a lead pony tugged on the bridle of a racehorse pounding reluctantly toward the track. The jockey in tow gave Beth a long look-see as he passed by. Beth’s attention was drawn to the back legs of the animal as it crossed in front of them.

  “Nope. No kids,” Dan said. “That was part of the problem. She was so committed to advancing through her law firm that—”

  “She’s a lawyer, too?”

  “Yep. Met in law school. She went for the big firm life. Now she’s managing partner of their M&A practice.”

  “What’s that?”

  “M&A? Mergers and acquisitions. They help companies buy up other companies,” he said.

  They stepped off the gravel road to allow a pickup to roll slowly by.

  “Sounds like she makes a lot of money,” she said.

  Great, thought Dan. You, like everybody else, think we got divorced because I couldn’t handle the fact that she made more money. Why does everyone go there?

  “You do that too?” She noted Dan’s stunned look. “M&A, I mean,” she said.

  “No, I was in the litigation group of a large firm. Couldn’t stand it. I’d just sit in a room for fourteen hours a day looking at paper. After a year of that, I said ‘bullshit.’ Quit the firm and became a prosecutor. Tried a bunch of cases, which is what I wanted in the first place. Then three years ago I started my own practice.”

  “How many lawyers in your firm?”

  “You’re looking at the whole firm.” He expanded his arms and chuckled. “So what’s the deal? You torture everyone with questions like this or just me?”

  “Oh, probably everyone,” she said. “I just kinda like to know about people. You know, where they’re from, what they’ve done.”

  “Names of their ex-wives,” he said deadpanning.

  She cocked her head upward and smiled, sparkling eyes peaking past her blonde hair.

  “So, what’s your story?” Dan asked.

  “Not much to tell.” She gave him a sheepish smile, tucked her hair behind her right ear, then began laughing.

  Dan was game for the challenge. “Gonna make me drag it out of you, huh? You know that’s what I do for a living. Okay. Where’s home?”

  She raised her palms, shrugged, and looked around. “Here.”

  “Fairfax Park?”

  “No. The backside. All up and down the East Coast. Monmouth, Delaware Park, Pimlico. This is the only place I know. Daddy’s a trainer, so we moved around a bunch.”

  “And mommy?”

  “Mommy ran out on us. Not even sure I could recognize her if she walked by me. She left when I was ten. That was that.”

  “Sorry to hear it.”

  “No worries. Used to bother me. Kinda tough being a girl growing up on the backside, changing schools every four months, living in hotel rooms. In hindsight, would’ve been nice to have a woman’s perspective growing up. Might’ve made fewer mistakes, but what are you gonna do?”

  At a loss for words, Dan gazed at her. She smiled in return.

  “Tough place to grow up,” he said finally.

  “Especially tough for girls.”

  “Where’s dad now?” Dan said, altering the conversation.

  “Fingerlakes.”

  “And?” Dan said.

  “And what?”

  “Why are you here with Jake’s barn?”

  “Little disagreement about business practices.”

  Dan stared, demanding more.

  “Oh, nothing big,” she said, flashing a smile that lit Dan’s insides. “Kinda hard to be a daughter and a business partner. I want to train someday, and I knew I needed to see some other operations. To learn more. I learned everything my dad could teach me.”

  “So you’re going to be a trainer. Got any owners?”

  She smiled, cocked her head slightly, and batted her eyes. “Not yet. I’m a ways off. I’ve got a lot to learn. I just love this business, and the way I can control things is to run my own business. I don’t want to be dependent upon anyone else. Jake’s a good horseman. Fair. Really cares about the horses. Some, they don’t. Anyway, I need to keep learning, then get my license. Probably take a few years. But I’m gonna do it.”

  Dan stepped up onto the landing to enter Crok’s. Beth turned left toward the vending machines, fishing change out of her jeans pocket.

  “Okay, last chance.” He motioned toward Crok’s front door.

  “See ya,” she said, smiling.

  Got that right, he thought.

  Chapter 14

  Dan eased open the screen door and noticed AJ sitting at his usual table. Across the room Dan eyed two of the three men who had badgered AJ just days before. They were headed toward AJ’s table. Dan quickly moved in that direction, pulled out one of the chairs, and plopped down in it. He crossed his arms and glared at the men as they moved toward the table.

  “Retard,” the shorter of the two mumbled as he moved past.

  “What’s your problem?” Dan asked.

  “What’s it to ya?”

  “This guy is my friend.” Dan gestured toward AJ and stood. “I want you to knock it off. Leave the boy alone.”

  “What are you gonna do? Beat us up?” The men looked at one another and laughed.

  “Well, Romeo,” Dan said, staring at the taller of the two. “Here’s what I’m going to do. You see, anything happens to this boy, and I’m coming after you.” Dan pointed at him. “Not your pal or the other guy. I’m coming after you. Don’t matter who does it—where or when. That’s how it’s going down. Something happens to him, you get a visitor. So you might want to watch your back from now on. Either that or change your tune and get your Neanderthal pals to follow suit.”

  Dan took a half-step toward him, and the two backed away. “Your call,” Dan said. “But you sure as hell better hope nothing happens to this boy. That’s our deal. Got it? Just makes life easier for all of us. Don’t you agree?”

  “You’re nuts, man,” said the one Dan called Romeo.

  “Try me,” said Dan.

  The shorter one turned away from the table and said, “Come on, Paul. Let’s get outta here.”

  “I’ll be seeing you,” Dan called out after them.

  Crok came scurrying over with a steaming cup of coffee. “On the house, mister,” she said. “Been waiting for someone to set them boys straight.�
� She gave AJ a little pat on the head and walked away.

  They sat in silence for several moments. “You didn’t need to do that,” AJ said while looking down at his plate of food.

  Dan leaned in toward him and said quietly, “You’re my friend, AJ. Friends take care of each other. Understand?”

  Dan was hoping that he wouldn’t have to make good on the promise. He regretted having to resort to their level of discourse, but sometimes the only message that worked was the one the audience feared.

  Dan sipped coffee, and AJ chomped away at his breakfast. Dan sat, wondering whether he was still able to fight a twenty-year-old. He put his coffee cup down and watched AJ.

  The boy’s eyes were always down and away, either focused on his plate of food or looking to the left at the floor. Somehow it just made Dan feel better, sitting there with him, even though they weren’t talking.

  “Hey, AJ, thanks for the tip the other day. Hollerin’ Hal really came through.” AJ just nodded as if he’d just told him the current weather report in Alaska. No excitement, no emotion. He had to loosen this kid up. “So, AJ, you like anyone today?” The boy shifted in his seat, still looking at his plate, and began swinging one leg back and forth under his chair.

  “Won’t know ’til I see ’em.”

  “Got it. You’re one of those visual handicappers. Got to see how they react in the paddock, how they warm up, how they move. Guys like you make all those numbers guys go kookoo.” AJ didn’t react. Dan had gotten more feedback from a store mannequin. What was it about this kid? “What do you look for?”

  “Don’t look for nothing. You can just see it.” His leg swung back and forth under his chair.

  Did that mean he was nervous or getting more comfortable?

  “Well, maybe you can, AJ. I sure as heck can’t. Let me know if you have a pick you like.”

  AJ sat and continued to eat. Finally, AJ stole a glance at Dan, cleared his throat as though annoyed, and said, “Hudgins has a horse in the fourth.”

  Then nothing, Dan leaned forward. Just let him talk, he thought, don’t rush him. Dan waited.

  “Used to be in our barn,” AJ started up again. “Got claimed off us at Delaware Park last spring.” Leg continued swinging. AJ looked down at his food.