At this revelation, Matt looked up at him. “Are you saying you think someone forced her to do those things?”
“I am thinking maybe human trafficking.” Just saying the words left a foul taste in his mouth. “Think about it, Matt, these girls are the perfect victims. No fingerprints to identify them. No birth certificates. No pictures. Nothing. Top that off with the fact that the family will never go to the police, then you have no missing person reports. Perfect victims.”
“Damn! Let me call Savannah. If we have a human trafficking ring going on, I want it shut down.” He ran his hand through his hair. “This just gets more complicated by the minute.”
“Tell me about it.” Standing, he went to leave the room.
“Nathaniel, I need to let you know that you are going to Kentucky with us.”
“Kentucky? Why? When?” What was in Kentucky? He waited for Matt to answer and could have sworn Matt sat there in silence just to torture him. Leave him to dangle on the line and squirm. Matt really did have a twisted sense of humor at times. Nathaniel found it amusing when it was directed at someone else besides him. “Matt, are you going to elaborate?” He tapped his foot; the soft carpet muffled any potential sound.
“In a couple weeks for the Kentucky Derby. I think you should see the other side of the ranch’s work. You will be there to work with the horse that we have competing in the race. Make sure you have a nice tuxedo as well. We have been invited to an after party.” Matt went back to reading the papers in front of him.
Leaving the room, he thought about the upcoming horse race. First, he will be there as a ranch hand to tend to the horse. Then he must go to an after party all dressed up, but still viewed as nothing more than a ranch hand. Well, that sure sucked. None of the women attending the party will give him a second look as a lowly ranch hand. Leave it to Matt to come up with this new form of torture.
Chapter 10
She sat in the living room on the sofa staring at the older woman across from her. The woman wore a stylish pair of jeans, hipster jacket and neck scarf. Her gray hair was pulled back into a ponytail. Lucky felt under dressed in t-shirt and sweatpants she had borrowed from Analise, with her own blonde hair hanging loose. She felt frumpy in contrast to the woman sitting across from her.
Felicity entered the room carrying a silver tray with a coffee carafe and two cups. She sat the tray on the coffee table between Lucky and the other woman. Lucky noted how fancy Felicity always dressed so perfectly. Today she wore a dark blue outfit with a short sleeve blazer, pleated skirt and matching stilettos. The skirt came mid-thigh and her well-toned legs were bare of any pantyhose. Lucky wished she had asked her for an outfit. Too late now.
Neither woman moved to touch the contents of the tray. Silence lingered in the air. It was if everyone had vacated the house. She strained to hear sounds of life in the other rooms. Nothing. Where had everyone gone? Had they really abandoned her.
“Lucky, my name is Claire. Matt asked me to come speak with you. He thinks talking might help you through all of this,” the other woman broke the silence.
“I know. Analise told me.” She started twirling a strand of blonde hair around her finger.
“Anything you tell me is between us. Until you are ready to tell, I will keep it between us.” She leaned forward.
Lucky wanted to believe her. In fact, she was all for talking if it helped her get her memories back. The problem was she had no memories, so what did they expect her to talk about. She grabbed the coffee carafe and poured herself a cup. She was stalling, and she knew it.
“So, tell me about yourself, Lucky”
“Didn’t Matt tell you. I have amnesia. I don’t know anything about myself.” Something about the other woman triggered a defiance in her.
“Why don’t you start there and tell me how that makes you feel.”
She sat the coffee cup down and placed her hands in front of stomach. Hands clasped tight, she fiddled with her knuckles. Weaving her fingers in and out each other. She let her eyes roam around the room. She knew she had to start talking, but she need time to prepare. How does one answer such a question? Her eyes came back to rest on Claire. The other woman just sat there, silently waiting. The silence began to close in on her. Why wouldn’t Claire just speak already?
“I don’t know how it makes me feel,” she finally broke the silence, while still weaving her fingers in and out of each other.
“Sure, you do. You just need to figure out how to express those feelings. There is no right or wrong answer. These are your feelings and you are entitled to them.”
“Ok. Let’s try scared, anxious, confused.” She shrugged her shoulders. She did not want the other woman to see the emotions behind the words. It was one thing to say the names of the emotions; an altogether different story to let one see the emotions.
“Let’s start with scared. What is scaring you?”
“So many things scare me. I have this fear of the men around me. I fear I will never remember anything prior to waking up here. I want to remember everything. I want to be able to remember enough that what I am told makes sense.” She buried her face in her hands. So much for not letting the other woman see the emotions.
The other woman had moved to sit next to her on the couch. An arm came around her and Lucky leaned against the other woman. All defiance gone. All pretense of coping gone. Why did she have to be so helpless? So pathetic?
“I think in time as we talk more, you can come to terms with everything. I can assure you that the men here at the ranch are good, honorable men. You can trust them. So that will be your first homework assignment. I want you to make a point of trying to speak to the men here. Who scares you the most?”
“Matt,” she muttered into her hands.
“Good then that is the homework assignment. Matt is the one I want you to make a point of speaking to. Just brief words here and there. Nothing too lengthy. Just enough to help work you past your fear. I will see you later and we will talk more at that time.” Claire hugged her and left the room.
She stayed on the couch, silently crying into her hands. Claire had given her a choice. To be afraid forever or actively do something about it. It was a crossroads of sorts. To move towards a victory of sorts or remain bound by fear. Sheep or lion, the choice was hers. She wasn’t sure what she was in her past, but she knew that she did not want to be a sheep.
Chapter 11
May 2002
She stood at the edge of the bed staring at the dress Analise had laid out for her. It was beautiful, and the designer label told her it was also expensive. She couldn’t afford a dress like this. No way could she wear it knowing she didn’t pay for it. It was lovely though. Breathtaking to be exact. She knew the buttery yellow silk would be stunning against her complexion. The sporadic large blue flowers accented the dress nicely. It was kind of Analise to take her still lingering bruises into consideration when choosing a dress. The back had a high neckline trimmed in white lace that gave the dress an elegant look, along with the lace trim that followed the front wraps and hemline. Still, this was way too expensive for her to wear.
Analise had told her a week ago that she would have a dress and hat delivered to the hotel and to consider it a gift. A gift? People did not go around gifting dresses that cost thousands of dollars to a stranger. Turning away from the dress, she went to sit on the chair at the vanity in her hotel room. Hotel room, what a laugh. Her room was just one bedroom in a huge penthouse suite. Her insecurities mounted even more since arriving at the hotel yesterday. What were people with the kind of money that Analise and her husband had doing with a woman like her? She was what people would call gutter-trash. A stripper, a prostitute.
She was still sitting in the chair when Analise knocked and promptly walked into the room without waiting for an answer. She looked over at Lucky and then at the dress still laid out on the bed. “Why are you not dressed yet? Was there a problem with the sizing?”
“No, it is nothing like that.” she r
eplied
“Then what is wrong? You should be dressed.” Her hands flapped around in an attempt to prompt Lucky into action.
“Can I ask you a question?” A knot tightened in her stomach. Did she really want to ask this? Plunging in without waiting for Analise to answer, she just blurted it out, “Why are you being so nice to me?”
“Why would you ask that? Most importantly, why would I not be nice to you?”
“Come on, Analise, you know we come from two different worlds. A rich man’s wife and a prostitute. Seriously?” Cocking her head to the side, she dared the other woman to deny it.
“Look, I understand, you do not have any true memories of who you are. What you do have is that I met you when you worked at the gentlemen’s club and the police report Asad found. That little bit I can also understand would make you mistrustful. But let me tell you one thing; I have no plans to use or manipulate you. I am your friend.”
“Ok, so let’s go with the fact that you are my friend. Friends don’t buy each other dresses with this kind of price tag.”
“I asked you to come to this event. I knew you could not buy a dress or a hat for the event. So yes, I bought you one. Honestly, I do not know how much your dress cost. I gave the woman your measurements, skin type, hair color, and eye color. She said she would pick something nice for you when also obtaining my dress and hat for the occasion.” Analise sat down on the bed next to the dress. “It is a very lovely dress. Let me help you; we need to leave soon.”
She figured there was no use arguing or questioning Analise’s motives further. Walking over to the edge of the bed, she slipped out of the bathrobe she was wearing. Standing in just a white full-length slip, she allowed Analise to help her slip into the dress. Once her arms were in the sleeves, she studied the front, unsure how to close it properly. Turning toward Analise, she motioned with her hands her confusion. Promptly, Analise took the right side of the dress and crossed it over, tying the tiny string to the other string attached to the inside of the dress. Taking the left side, she repeated the action, and tied the other string to a string on the outside hem of the dress.
The dress felt amazing against her skin, falling just below her knees. The sleeves ended just at her elbows. Grabbing the belt off the bed, she quickly affixed it around her waist, then did a slow twirl. The movement of the silk and lace against her skin made her smile. The dress truly was stunning both on the hanger and on her body. A quick glance in the mirror revealed just how well the buttery color complemented her skin tone and features.
“Do I really have to wear the hat?” she asked, never taking her eyes off her reflection in the mirror.
“Yes. The hats are the whole tradition of the Kentucky Derby. Everyone turns out to not see the horses, but to see the hats.” Analise smiled as she reached up and touched her own hat.
Lucky thought Analise’s hat was way over the top. A light pink straw hat with a bright pink band and trim. Now if that was all there was to the hat, Lucky could see it as pretty. However, Analise was determined that her hat would stand out in a crowd, even at the Kentucky Derby. Affixed to the right side of the hat was a monstrously huge hot pink flower flanked by five tall pink feathers. Shaking her head, Lucky turned from staring at Analise’s hat.
Opening the hat box on her bed, she discovered that Analise had ensured that they had matching hats. This hat was just as over the top as Analise’s hat, the only difference was the band, trim, flower, and feathers were blue instead of pink. She didn’t want to wear the hat at all. Taking a deep breath, she sat on the bed and put her flat sandals on, then stood and put on her hat. Might as well get this over with, she thought as she followed Analise out of the bedroom.
Chapter 12
He made his way through the gate, lost in a sea of people. The shoulder-length blonde wig, with matching goatee, ensured no one would recognize him. Weaving his way through the throng, he headed for the stables. The crowd provided him the cover he needed to slip around unnoticed. Despite his disguise, he knew better than to take chances. He would bet a year’s wages that most of the men in their spring-colored suits knew next to nothing about horses. Instead, they came to the Kentucky Derby as a status symbol. He would play the part for as long as he needed.
With the stables insight, he took the time to scout the area. People were always coming and going from the stables, so slipping in unnoticed shouldn’t be an issue. Security was tight though. He loved the challenge. Taking one last look around, a smile spread across his face as he slipped into the stables. Now all he had to do was find where Desert Rose Princess was being kept prior to the race. He had enough time to make sure that his plan worked. He just needed to execute the plan prior to the horses being moved to the Paddock.
He found the horse in a stall in the middle of the stables. Rubbing his hand along the horse’s neck, he withdrew the syringe with his free hand. Continuing to the pet one side of the horse’s neck, he injected the drug into the other side. Other than some snorting sounds, the horse barely registered the injection.
Discreetly, he carried the needle with him. A trash can near the doors of the stable provided the perfect place to ditch the needle. Walking back out into the sunlight, he slid his sunglasses into place. Now all he had to do was find a seat and wait to watch the chaos.
Chapter 13
Lucky sat in the padded chair next to Analise inside the private seating box. Even though she had worn sandals, her feet hurt from all the walking. Analise had dragged her through the sea of people to the ‘red carpet’ area to see what celebrities were attending. From there they went to the Paddock to see all the horses that were racing today. Leaning down, she removed her sandals and stretched her legs out. Wiggling her feet, she felt some of the soreness subside.
Reaching up, she removed the gaudy hat and sat it on her lap. Looking over, she noticed Analise was smiling at her. She doubted Analise would remove her hat. The other woman seemed to get a lot of pleasure from wearing that ridiculous hat. Although Lucky had to admit, hers and Analise’s hats were tame compared to some of the elaborate hats she saw today. She noticed the older the woman was the bigger and gaudier the hats were. One woman in particular had worn a bright pink hat with peacock feathers jutting up from the back. To make it worse she had what appeared to be bright orange cotton balls dangling all around the brim of the hat. When she had seen the woman, it took everything she had in her not to double over in laughter.
She was still thinking about the past few hours when Analise pulled her from her musings. Looking over, she took the offered glass. Unsure what it was, she took a tentative sip. “What is this?”
“Mint Julep.” Analise held her glass up in triumph
“It is nasty.” Wrinkling her nose to emphasize her dislike of the drink.
“It is tradition. For nearly a century, an average of one hundred and twenty thousand glasses are sold over the Kentucky Derby weekend. Then, of course, there is the Kentucky Oak race as well.” Smiling over the rim of her cup, she stared pointedly at Lucky.
Hiking her glass up into the air a bit in front of her, Lucky’s eyes narrowed. “What you are saying is I have to drink this?”
“Exactly. Just one.” Analise turned back to face the track and made a production of getting comfortable. “If it is any comfort these are virgin mint juleps. I do not drink so I always order the virgin ones. However, if you want a traditional one I can get you one.”
Taking her cue, Lucky settled in and shook her head. She would stick to the virgin version and just slowly sip her drink. Maybe if she sipped slow enough, the race would be over, and she wouldn’t have to finish the nasty drink. Wiggling her feet again, she tried to discreetly stretch her muscles. She dreamed of a hot soak in the bathtub tonight.
Sipping the Mint Julep, she watched as the jockeys and horses prepared for the race to start. The moment the race started, she sat up straighter. Gripping the glass with one hand and the brim of her hat with the other, she watched in fascination as the horses ra
ced around the track. Excitement bubbled up inside her. She couldn’t remember ever experiencing anything this exhilarating, which she found ironic cause she couldn’t remember anything anyway.
Almost bouncing in her seat, she was cheering out loud, urging Desert Rose Princess on. The horse was beautiful and athletic. She just knew the horse would win. Raising her binoculars, her heart hammered at the excitement of it all. Grinning from ear to ear, she didn’t comprehend what she was seeing. One minute the horses were running the race. The next instant, a horse was stumbling and falling.
With the binoculars still held to her eyes she saw the horror on the jockey’s face. Just a split second, then the jockey hit the ground. The horse landed on top of him.
She watched in horror as the heavy horse rolled over the top of the jockey. Then silence as the horse and jockey lay motionless on the track. The calm before the storm. In moments, she watched as men ran onto the track toward the horse and rider. Analise grabbed her arm, and as Lucky tore her gaze from the track, she saw the shock on the other woman’s face.
“Lucky, that was my horse! That is my jockey!” Releasing Lucky’s arm, she stood and stared out at the race track.
“Are you sure?” Standing to join her, she strained to see the horse and rider as a circle of men surrounded them.
“Yes, I am sure. I need to go down there.” Turning, she went to leave the room.
“Analise, wait. Are you sure you need to be down there? I mean, look, there are so many people already. If we go down there we might be in the way.” Turning back toward the race track she watched all the commotion without fully knowing what was happening down there.
“You are right. It just does not seem real. What could have happened to the horse?” Standing next to Lucky, she held the other woman’s arm with both hands. Watching and waiting.
***
Nathaniel was in complete shock as he ran onto the track with Matt. It all happened so fast, he was not sure exactly what happened. Just that the horse went down, landed on the jockey, then rolled over him. Neither the horse nor the jockey had gotten up. Reaching the small crowd that had gathered on the track, he saw that paramedics had placed a neck brace on the jockey and were now lifting him on a stretcher. His injuries were unclear, but he was alive. The horse, on the other hand, was not so lucky.
The Making of a Centaur Page 4
