Bullet Work

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Bullet Work Page 16

by Steve O'Brien


  “What do you mean, half interest?”

  “Kinda simple, Jake. I get half the purse money, and if you sell or have one claimed, I get half.”

  “On top of the juice?”

  Ginny nodded.

  “Are you insane?”

  “There’s juice on top of the juice you’re already not paying me today. Purse money is on top of that.”

  “That’s crazy.”

  “Well, Jake, here’s the deal.” A smirk slowly spread across Ginny’s face. “You go out and get a loan from somebody else, pay me off, or—”

  “You know I’m tapped out on my credit line.”

  “Not my problem, Jake. I’m just here with a solution. I sure wouldn’t want the stews to learn you’re insolvent. They might just rule you off, put a financially secure stable in your place. Those guys are kind of funny that way.”

  “Fuck. Ginny?” Jake leaned back in his chair, rubbing the side of his face.

  “Hey, you came to me. Then you can’t make the juice. I’m just trying to help you out. You’re going the wrong direction. I need collateral. Simple as that.”

  “I win that filly stake, we’re clear.”

  “You pay me the number and the juice, we’re clear.”

  “And I get my half interest in the stock back?”

  “You get your half interest back.”

  “It’s bullshit, Ginny.”

  “Get a better deal and pay me off.”

  Jake looked Ginny in the eyes. “Filly’s gonna win that stake.”

  “Want me to give her shoes a little tug?” Meaning did he want Ginny to apply turn downs on Aly Dancer’s shoes.

  “No, she wins straight up.”

  “Better hope so.” He pointed a stout finger at Jake and walked out of the office.

  She damn well better win.

  Chapter 37

  “goodfella’s on the Backside,” the sports section of The Washington Post screamed. Jason Cregg broke the story of the extortion scheme carried out at Fairfax Park. The 30-point bold type headline and feature-length article appeared above the fold and dominated the Thursday edition.

  Cregg had anonymous quotes from horsemen who blamed track management for failing to protect them. Owners shared stories about the horses they had lost and their waning interest in further investment without assurances or remuneration.

  Dan folded the paper and pushed it into the wastebasket under his desk. He’d been able to keep AJ’s name out of the article and that had been his sole objective when Cregg contacted him two days prior. The absence of an arrest and a refresher course on defamation carried the day. “A shooter” had been detained was all the article stated.

  Biggs was quoted on the track’s increased funding for security. Belker said they were committed to capturing those involved, but the spin of the article made management appear hapless.

  The shooting had sent a shockwave through the community. No one was safe. Although Jake had come current with the extortionist, Dan still worried. Somebody trying to make a statement would take out a brilliant young filly rather than a tired claimer.

  An individual as depraved as one that would fire a rifle at a penned-up horse could not be trusted and could not be left to his honor. It didn’t make sense. Dan searched for motives, opportunity, and points of access. All seemed improbable. He could sit back and hope that everything went as planned, that his stock was safe.

  Then again, he was never one to sit back and hope.

    

  AJ was always ready when Dan pulled up to the owner/trainer parking lot just inside the guard shack. Dan could tell that AJ hated to be away from his horses through the night, but it was a condition of his ability to keep his license on the backside.

  Regardless of the decision made by the local sheriff’s office, the stewards could rule someone off the property with little evidence. AJ was able to keep his job because Latimer had vouched for him, and Dan had agreed to house him off the property pending the investigation, which looked like it could be for the duration of the meet.

  AJ was reluctant to move into Dan’s condo. It was a two-bedroom condo, one bedroom of which was a home office, or as his mom called it, “the Oklahoma room,” because it looked like a tornado had blown through it. AJ was content to sleep on the couch.

  Dan learned quickly that AJ wasn’t accustomed to air conditioning after living on the backside during the hot, humid summers. He would find him asleep, though shivering under three blankets. Dan wasn’t about to go without the air con himself, but he did ratchet up the thermostat several degrees to make the home more tolerable for AJ.

  He also learned that AJ had a narrow food window. It centered around French fries and grilled meat—the greater the fat content in the meat, the better. It had to have become an acquired taste living on the backside and eating at places like Crok’s constantly. He and Milt would make a real dining pair, Dan thought.

  Dan tried taking him to his favorite seafood restaurant and his friend’s Italian place. Both times they ended up at the drive-thru on the way home. He simply wouldn’t eat anything outside his familiar diet.

  Dan even invited Beth to have dinner with them. Aside from just enjoying her company, Dan thought her personality might draw AJ out. Despite a pleasant dinner, Beth’s brilliant smile, and a cooperative French chef—AJ had a burger and fries—the boy remained focused on his own world. Direct questions from Beth established that AJ knew the horse business, as well as ailments and treatments. He just didn’t have any desire to interact, regardless of her tender prodding.

  Little had been learned in the past week, and the list of “unprotected trainers” had grown shorter. Now it looked like about two in three trainers was paying the “safety fee.”

  AJ turned out of the shedrow and began walking toward Dan’s car. Dan hopped out and quickly moved in his direction. “I need you to do something, AJ.” He stopped and waited for Dan to reach him, then turned and followed him back toward the barn area.

  “How was your day today?”

  “Fine.”

  “Anything unusual happen?

  “No.”

  He was a nice kid, but not a conversationalist.

  They walked in silence, AJ about two feet behind him. They reached Jake’s barn. “I want you to touch Aly Dancer.” Dan didn’t have to tell him which stall. He moved directly toward the third stall on the near side of the barn. Beth gave Dan a suspicious glance and stepped in front of the stall, blocking AJ’s way. Having dinner was one thing. Getting close to her horses was quite another. “It’s okay, Beth. Just want him to meet Aly Dancer.”

  “Might want to talk with Jake first,” she said.

  “Beth, it’s okay. Last time I saw the training bills, she was my horse.”

  Beth hesitated, then stepped aside, and AJ slipped under the webbing. Beth quickly followed. She grabbed Aly Dancer’s bridle and patted her on the nose. Dan walked up so he could see into the stall over the webbing. Aly Dancer shimmied nervously; she wasn’t accustomed to having a stranger in her stall. Beth held her close and made cooing sounds to calm her.

  AJ reached up and placed both hands on Aly Dancer’s side. The filly suddenly became still. A humming sound started to come out of AJ. His eyes were closed, and he slowly leaned in and settled the side of his face on the horse’s chest. Beth looked over at Dan like what the heck is that?

  AJ hummed more loudly and began intermittently mumbling. The mumbling was indecipherable. The horse stood motionless. After several minutes AJ stood back and let go of the horse. Aly Dancer shook all over like she was shedding mosquitoes. Her breathing became heavier, but she remained calm and relaxed. AJ slipped under the webbing and stood next to Dan.

  “How is she?”

  AJ considered this for a long time, then looked at Dan. “In her mind, she’s the best there’s ever been.”

  “What do you mean?” Beth said. “Best there’s ever been. I know that.”

  Dan gestured for Beth to st
op and looked at AJ.

  “What does that mean?” he asked.

  “That filly is a special one,” said AJ. “She got heart. She wants to compete, and she gets angry if anyone runs ahead of her. She won’t back down. She won’t back down for nothing.”

  “Have you seen that before? I mean sensed that, with another horse?”

  “I’ve seen that before in good horses, but nothing like this. She got more will to win than anything I ever seen. She’s a champion every minute of her life. Some horses, they just want to run fast. She wants to run fast, but more than anything, she wants to win.”

  Beth looked out over the webbing. “I coulda told you that.”

  “Thanks, Beth. You’re a huge part of her success. It’s not just her; it’s you and her together, and I really appreciate it. You keep doing whatever you’re doing with her.”

  Dan moved back away from the stall and began walking toward the parking area. “Let’s go get some dinner. What do you say, AJ? How about a burger and fries?”

  No laughter, no smiles. “Okay.”

  AJ walked along in silence behind him. Dan would slow down, trying to get him to walk alongside, but AJ would slow down and stay just behind him. Dan finally gave up and moved toward his vehicle.

  “AJ, what do you do with those horses?”

  “I dunno.”

  “No, really. What’s the deal? How do you communicate with them?”

  “I just touch them, and they tell me what they feel.”

  Dan didn’t want to believe it, but he’d seen it too many times. “Any chance you can do that with people?” He chuckled to signal that it was a joke, but only half joking. Dan could quickly think of several witnesses in his pending cases that he’d like to have AJ lay his hands on. AJ could be his own personal truth squad, conveniently packaged in the shape of a young boy.

  “Nope. Don’t work with people.”

  “Why not?”

  “’Cause people lie.”

  “So?”

  “Horses don’t lie.”

  “How do you know the horses aren’t lying to you?” Dan asked.

  “’Cause they can’t. They only communicate one way. They always tell the truth. That’s why horses are better than people.”

  “Not all people lie.”

  “No, but all people can.”

  They walked in silence, then AJ continued. “Best you can do with people is watch what they do. Have to ignore what they say—just watch what they do.”

  “AJ, let me ask you something. Do you know who’s hurting the horses? Have you seen something?”

  “I don’t know who’s doing it. But it don’t make sense.”

  “What specifically?”

  “Couple things. Can’t steal a horse from a racetrack.”

  “Lots of horses have been kidnapped over the years, AJ. Even some famous ones. Held for ransom. It happens.”

  “They get taken from a farm, not a racetrack.” He was right. To get a horse off a racetrack, you had to have papers and a trailer and pull it off with dozens of people watching.“What else bothers you?”

  “Whoever’s doing this is known by everyone.”

  “How do you know that?”

  They walked for about a hundred yards. “’Cause we can see things that are different. Can’t see things that are the same.”

  “So it’s definitely someone working on the backside?

  He shrugged, looking at the ground as he walked. “We can’t see him, so he’s the same as us.”

  “How do we catch him?”

  AJ shrugged. “Know the difference between what we’re told and what we see.”

  “So if we ignore what we’ve been told and only focus on what we’ve seen, we’ll catch him?”

  “Not sure if you’ll catch him, but it’s the only chance.”

  Chapter 38

  tuesday afternoons were the slow time. No racing scheduled that day, so after morning works, it was time to relax, catch up on overdue projects, or just find a shady spot to rest. By two p.m. the backside was a ghost town. There were plenty of people around, but none were walking outside the shedrows. Many had left the property to play golf, do laundry, catch up on sleep, or just get away for a few hours.

  AJ cut a solitary figure as he ventured from Latimer’s barn toward Crok’s. He struggled with understanding why he couldn’t be with his horses around the clock, but he eventually fell into the routine of spending the night at Dan’s house. It was all right but not as good as being on the backside.

  A groom from Dellingham’s barn came running around the far side of the barn toward AJ. He waved his arms and urged AJ toward him. Breathlessly, he pleaded for help with a downed horse in the adjoining barn.

  The groom shot off toward the barn. AJ hop-skipped behind him, moving as fast as he could. Surprisingly, AJ was catching up as they rounded the side of the barn.

  “Third stall,” the groom said, pointing a weary arm.

  AJ swung around the pole holding up the extended roof of the shedrow and stooped under the webbing, into the stall.

  There was no downed animal.

  There was no animal at all in the stall.

  There were two stable hands standing in the stall, and the groom from Dellingham’s barn quickly stepped in place, blocking any exit through the stall door.

  “Well, if it isn’t Mr. Superhero,” said the tallest one. This was the same one Dan had dubbed Romeo.

  AJ moved backward to get away from the men. Dellingham’s groom shoved him forward into the middle of the stall. AJ looked down and tried to ignore them.

  “Yeah,” said the short one. “You think you’re so special. You can take care of everyone’s horses, like you did with the loose horse the other day. My loose horse. Didn’t need your help, punk.” He stepped forward and pushed AJ toward the front corner of the stall.

  AJ didn’t sense it coming, and he flew backward, landing on his butt with his head slamming into the corner of the stall. His backside landed in fresh manure, and he fell onto his side. His hat flew off, landing in his lap.

  “Keep your hands off our horses. We don’t need your help. You understand?” said Romeo.

  AJ didn’t respond. He was shaking and waiting for them to leave so he could get up.

  “You understand?” He yelled this time, kicking the back of AJ’s thigh. “Seems like we need to teach this guy a lesson. Don’t we, Luke?” said Romeo.

  “Sure as hell do,” said Luke. He bent down, grabbed AJ’s cap, and threw it onto the slick of horse manure. Then he stepped on it and ground the hat with the heel of his boot.

  “Get up,” yelled Romeo.

  AJ didn’t move; he was waiting for it to be over. He would wait them out.

  “I said, get up.” Romeo planted another kick to the boy’s backside.

  AJ slowly crawled to his feet and cowered in the corner, not looking at the men. Luke reached forward and slapped the boy. AJ kept staring at the matted straw. He made no effort to defend himself other than backing into the corner and moving his hands to cover his ears.

  “Put your hat on,” Luke said. The other men laughed. Luke kicked the hat, and it landed on one of AJ’s tennis shoes. “Put it on, shithead.”

  AJ bent down and shook his cap holding the bill. Chunks of manure dropped off, but the right side was virtually painted in horse excrement. He tugged it onto his head, continuing to look down at the straw.

  “You’re gonna learn a lesson all right,” said Romeo. “Time for a little blanket party.” He reached behind him and tossed a horse blanket over AJ’s head.

  Luke grabbed him, pinning his arms to his side. All was darkness. AJ yelled, but under the blanket his plea was muted.

  “Looks like we got us a screamer,” said Dellingham’s groom.

  “Yep,” said Luke. “We’ll take care of that.” He ripped the blanket off AJ’s head. AJ stumbled back into the wall, blinking his eyes. Romeo yanked the boy toward him, then pinned AJ’s arms. Luke stepped forward with a clo
th wrap and tightly tied it around AJ’s mouth. Then the blanket went back over his head.

  They spun him around several times, then picked him up like a roll of carpeting.

  AJ couldn’t scream. No sound came out. He wanted it to be over. He couldn’t control his shaking. He wanted them to stop and just leave him alone. They were carrying him out of the stall. He could only hear their laughter. He tried to focus on his horses, what he needed to do for them this afternoon. AJ tried to imagine it away. He tried to ignore it away.

  Then, beneath the blanket, he started to cry.

  This time, he realized, it was not going away.

  Chapter 39

  dan wheeled into the owner/trainer parking lot at the regular time. AJ was usually sitting on the white fence, waiting for his ride. Today, no AJ.

  Little movement stirred on the backside today. Horses had all been exercised, fed, washed, wrapped, and penned back in their stalls. Two guys were shooting hoops in the stifling heat, and a few lonely souls were visible resting in the growing shade of the barns.

  Dan walked toward Latimer’s barn. AJ must be working on something last-minute, Dan thought. There was no movement around Latimer’s barn as he approached. The door to the trainer’s office was open, and a two-foot fan had been propped into the doorway. It hummed like a reluctant servant, pushing air but cooling little.

  Inside, Dick Latimer was scanning the condition book, flipping pages, looking for opportunity.

  “Hey,” said Dan. “Was looking for AJ. He here?”

  Latimer dropped the book on the desk and leaned forward. “He’s around. Haven’t seen him for a while. Check the stalls; he’s here somewhere. Kid will be with a horse somewhere.”

  Dan started down the shedrow, looking in each stall. Sleepy horses stared back at him, shifting their weight and shivering to keep flies off them.

  “AJ,” Latimer yelled.

  A dark face poked out of the room adjoining Latimer’s office.

  “Paulo,” Latimer shouted. “You seen AJ?”

 

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