by Jory Strong
She wasn’t sorry she’d gotten involved with him. He made her feel alive, desirable, happy in a way she’d never felt before—and she fully intended to savor every moment, but… A fist tried to tighten around her heart, a warning about how it was going to feel when he was gone.
Cady resolutely pushed the thoughts away.
No regrets. That was going to be her motto. And in the meantime, she had Adrienne’s case to work on and portraits to shoot.
Cady met Grady Windburn at the gate to the backside of Bay Downs. He’d hired her to do several portraits of his mother’s three Yorkies. The first had been a surprise Christmas gift featuring the three dogs dressed up in sailor suits. His mother had gone crazy over the photos, so Grady had treated her to a second portrait—this one for her birthday—and now a third was scheduled.
When Cady had seen his name in her appointment book, she’d remembered that he owned an interest in a racehorse. The timing couldn’t have been more perfect—especially when he agreed to get her a pass into the backstretch so she could take some photos.
“Who’s your trainer?” Cady asked as she and Grady headed toward the collection of shed-rows, each considered a “barn”.
“Young guy, Mike Beck, only had his license for a couple of years. But he’s hot!”
“How many horses does he have?”
“Seven, including one of his own. My two are claimers, nothing special, but I think I’ll be able to trade up with them. His horse is something else. Broke his maiden the first time out of the gate, and he’s won two more since then. Horse is named Dynamite Blast. He’s a beautiful bay colt.”
Grady angled them to small office that had obviously once been a stall. A young guy wearing a red San Francisco 49ers cap was studying a clipboard while he chewed the life out of his gum.
“Is he going to be ready?” Grady asked.
“Sure, sure. He’ll be ready.” Mike looked up and Grady made the introductions before flicking his wrist, checking the time on his Rolex. “Well kids, I gotta go.”
Mike got out of his chair. “Why don’t I give you a quick tour of the place? Just tell me to stop if you see something you want to photograph. We can start over at the practice track.” He checked his own watch, then spit a huge wad of gum into the trash, almost immediately pulling out a package and unwrapping a fresh piece.
As soon as they got to the practice track, a female exercise rider on a gray mare rode along the rail in front of them. The mare was snorting and prancing—anxious to take on the track. Cady looked around and thought maybe a couple of the other riders were women, too. There hadn’t been a single female jockey listed in the racing program she’d gotten on Sunday. When she mentioned it to Mike he shrugged. “Yeah, owners around here are still pretty squirrelly about putting a woman up on their horses on race day.”
Cady watched the young rider skillfully control the excited gray mare as they galloped along the track rail. The mare was bucking and fighting every step of the way. “It seems to me that if women are good enough to exercise the horses then they’re good enough to race them.” She trained her camera on the rider.
“The horses get pretty excited during a race. A lot of owners don’t think a woman has the strength to handle a horse in that kind of situation.” He held up his hands in surrender before Cady could give her opinion. “I’m not saying I agree. To tell you the truth, I think a woman often times has better hands and a better feel for the horse. But an owner tells me ‘no’ to a woman jock and I say ‘fine’. The owner is paying the bill.” He shrugged. “But I do put a lot of woman on as exercise riders.”
“So there aren’t any female jockeys riding at Bay Downs?”
“Just one. Terry McKay.”
“Is she any good?”
“Yeah.” It came out grudgingly as Mike added a fresh stick of gum to the mix in his mouth. “Hot-headed with the temperament of a junkyard dog. But yeah, she’s got a good feel for the horses and for racing.”
“Does she have trouble getting rides?”
“Didn’t use to. Until last week, she had a lot of rides. Now I doubt she could get on as an exercise rider.”
“What happened?”
The gray mare and her rider came by the rail. Mike waved them on. “That’s the last one of mine. You want to grab some coffee?”
“Sure.”
As they headed back toward the barn housing Mike’s office, Cady tried to figure out a way to get back to the subject of Terry McKay. Had he intentionally dropped it, or had he just gotten distracted? Finally she decided to just plow ahead. What the heck, it was a legitimate topic.
“What happened with the female jockey? Did she get caught throwing a race or something?”
Mike laughed. “Naw, nothing like that. Her cousin is a trainer—or I should say, was a trainer. A lot of Terry’s mounts came by way of her cousin. Now that Adrienne’s been suspended, Terry doesn’t have anything to ride, plus people tend to be superstitious. Some of them just don’t want to have any trouble rub off on them.”
“How come her cousin got suspended?”
A puzzled expression settled on Mike’s face. “Five of her horses turned up with cocaine in their system last week.”
“Five?”
“Yeah.” Mike looked over at Cady. “Pretty damn strange. Most of them had a fair shot at winning—and Adrienne never seemed like the kind of trainer who would drug horses to win. Hell, she doesn’t need to as far as that goes. It’s pretty common knowledge that she’s loaded. Her entire family is loaded. Besides that, she’s smart enough to know that the drug test would go positive for cocaine, unless she thought she had it covered from the other end, or was buying something else. Like I said, just doesn’t make a hell of a lot of sense.”
Cady moved closer. “Sounds like you think someone else might have drugged them.”
Mike looked around. “I don’t know. I’m just saying that it seems pretty damn strange. Five in a day. You’d have to be damn stupid. A horse wins, it goes right to the stall and they wait to get a urine sample. No exceptions. No surprises. It’s not like random drug testing where you figure the odds and decide whether you want to take the chance.”
“Did she have any enemies? Anyone who would want to see her kicked off the track? Or do you think somebody was just jealous because she’s got money?”
“Who knows?” Mike shrugged. “She’s a classy lady. Kind of an outsider since her family’s got big bucks and provides her with the horses. Maybe some of the guys are jealous that she’s played with the big boys in New Jersey and Florida, but so what? She’s a good trainer, keeps kind of to herself. Keeps her nose clean.”
“Is she running a particularly good horse right now?”
“They’re all good, but nothing like a Cigar or a Secretariat if that’s what you mean.” They turned between a couple of barns and his office came into sight. “I’ve got to make a few calls while the coffee is brewing.”
“I’ll stay out here and take some shots.”
The exercise rider returned the gray mare to her groom for a morning bath. Cady edged over and took some pictures before moving to where a bay horse was hooked up to a hot-walker, apparently content to go round and round in the same circle, its lead rope remaining slack as the equipment it was tethered to traveled at a steady pace. Mike joined her a few minutes later and handed her a cup of coffee. “I took a guess that you liked cream and sugar in yours.”
“This is great.”
They talked about horses as they drank their coffee. When the cups were empty, Mike said, “They should have the tractors and harrows out to recondition the main track about now. You interested in some photos of that?”
“I’m interested in everything.”
As they walked in the direction of the main racetrack, she said, “Grady was telling me that Dynamite Blast belongs to you. I saw him run in the fourth race on Sunday.”
“He’s the best thing that’s come my way in a long time. I’ve already picked up two clients
because of him.” Mike shook his head. “That’s the game. When you’re small-time, just starting out, you get two kinds of owners. Cheap ones who can’t afford anybody else, and owners that see you’ve got a winning horse and think you’ve got some magic that’ll work on their old nag.”
Cady laughed. “How’d you get into this profession, anyway?”
“Born into it. My old man was a trainer. I did odd jobs on the track when I was growing up. Worked for my dad as a groom. Exercised horses until I got too big. Finally bought a claimer and started trading up.”
“Is your dad a trainer here?”
“Naw. He’s dead now. Cirrhosis of the liver about five years ago.”
“Hard way to lose your father.”
“Yeah. My kid won’t lose me that way.”
“You have kids?”
Mike laughed. “A son, though my wife calls him a demon when he’s awake and an angel when he’s sleeping.”
Cady smiled, betting Mike was a good dad—and instantly picturing Kix in that same role. That thought brought reality crashing back with all the finesse of a thrown rider hitting hard ground.
Her heart contracted. One night of great sex did not make for a future together. She was not going to be sorry, but that didn’t mean she was going to get caught up in a happy-ever-after fantasy. As soon as Adrienne’s name was cleared, then Kix would head back to Texas. So don’t do anything crazy like falling in love.
Her chest grew tight and she had the sinking feeling it was too late. How could anyone not fall in love with Kix? He was gorgeous, funny, smart, law-abiding, and loyal to his friends. Stop!
Giving herself a mental shake to clear her mind, Cady forced her thoughts out of the circle they’d been going in and began scanning the scene around her, her eyes hitting on a contrast that just begged for a shot—an extraordinarily large, fat in non-politically correct terms, man was talking to a guy who had to be a jockey.
She aimed the camera and zoomed in. Mike followed her interest and laughed. “Yeah, that’s quite a sight. The jock is Angel Valdez. He rides a lot of Luke Johnson’s horses. The other guy is his agent. Don’t know his real name, everybody calls him Fats. It doesn’t seem to bother him.”
A few shots later, Cady zoomed in closer, trying to capture their expressions. Fats looked angry. His heavy jowls quivered as he talked. He ran a finger along his collar and by the frayed appearance and greasy stains, he did it a lot. The jockey seemed equally angry, his movements more volatile.
“Who’d you say Angel Valdez rode for?” Cady asked when they started walking again.
“Luke Johnson.”
“Johnson, that name sounds familiar.”
Mike laughed. “It should. Seems like every time you turn around, you run into one of the Johnsons. A lot of Bay Downs stock is owned by them.”
“Is it publicly traded?”
“Yep. You can buy it through a broker or from the track office. Most everyone who works for the track owns some shares, but the majority of it is owned by the members of the Johnson family. When it comes right down to it, all the jockeys, agents, grooms, clerks, everybody, could put their stock together and still not override the Johnson vote. That is, if the Johnsons all voted the same way.”
“I take it that they don’t.”
“Not even close. Somebody’s always got it in for somebody else.”
Cady remembered Jimmy telling her that Tiny Johnson had been suspended. “I take it that Tiny Johnson is one of the Johnsons.”
“Yeah. Luke’s nephew. They hate each other. But between you and me, they’re more alike than different. Tiny is small-time and a lousy trainer. Luke is big-time—has a ton of winners, but also has a ton of horses he blows out—ruins ‘um. They end up overseas on somebody’s dinner plate. They’re not even fit to sell as pleasure horses. In my book, that’s a lousy trainer, too.”
Cady was just about to agree with Mike’s opinion when the piercing sound of a siren blared across the backstretch. She turned around and raw fear shot through her. Dark black smoke was pouring into the air.
Chapter Six
A fire engine raced along the road, passing Cady and Mike as they rounded a shed-row and saw that a barn was on fire. Men were yelling in Spanish and English as some led frantic horses out of their stalls while others used garden hoses to try and contain the flames as the fire engine hooked up to a hydrant and prepared to douse the area.
Cady slipped the lens cap off her camera and chronicled the events taking place in front of her. Within minutes the firemen had won the battle against the fire. It took several minutes longer before onlookers began turning away and returning to their own business.
A man wearing a stopwatch around his neck stopped next to her. “Damn grooms, they know better than to cook in the tack rooms. This could have turned into a fucking nightmare,” he said before stomping away.
Cady lowered her camera and turned toward Mike. He halted a heavy-set man and asked, “You know if any of the horses were hurt, Caesar?”
“They all got out okay. Somebody saw it in time. I heard there were only about fifteen horses in there—the rest are either off at other meets or on the practice track. Could have been a hell of a lot worse. It could have jumped over to Luke’s barn. He’s got all forty stalls filled.” The man shook his head. “That’s three fires since January. The cooking in the tack rooms has got to stop. We all need to tow the line on this one, Mike. I’ve told my guys they’re history if I catch them doing it.”
Mike nodded and the other man walked away. Cady took a small notebook out of her back pocket. “Whose barn is it?”
“Six trainers share it. Tony Silva, Jason Randal, Dennis Hess and Ed Patterson all have about five horses each. Jamie Johnson and Alex Harrison have another ten apiece.” Mike turned to Cady. “You want to see anything else?”
She checked her watch and shook her head. It was almost time to meet Kix. “Not today. I’ve got a photo shoot I need to get to. Thanks for showing me around. I really appreciate it.”
“Hey, anytime. Can you find your way out?”
“Yeah, thanks.”
Cady’s pulse jumped at the sight of Kix leaning in cowboy splendor against the guard booth. When he flashed his lazy smile and pulled her into his arms, her heart started doing a great imitation of a pogo stick routine in her chest.
“Perfect timing, darlin’.”
She couldn’t resist brushing a kiss across his lips. He countered the move by pulling her tighter and holding her head so that he could delve in and out of her mouth, tangling his tongue with hers and sending blood and heat straight to her cunt.
“Damn, Cady darlin’, I missed you.”
Her heart leaped, but she wrinkled her nose and said, “I didn’t drop you off at Adrienne’s house that long ago.”
“Darlin’, you can’t give a man a straight shot of fine whisky and expect him to walk away without wanting another taste.” His words licked over her nipples, making them tighten into hard points. She shivered, remembering how his mouth and tongue had felt against her flesh.
Cady’s attention dropped to where his jeans-covered erection was pressed against her. Her thoughts followed. Maybe they could take a little break…
Then she remembered why she couldn’t. She really did have a photo shoot. Somehow she couldn’t picture herself calling her client and saying, Sorry to cancel on you. Something really big has come up and I’ve got to get it inside me before I die of unsatisfied lust.
“What’d you find out about Roberto Gonzalez?” Cady asked.
“He’s an assistant trainer working for Tiny Johnson.”
Cady’s eyebrows went up. “The guy who was suspended because his horse had antihistamines in its system?”
Kix grinned. “One and the same.”
“Does Adrienne know him?”
“Yep, says he’s a lousy trainer—but can’t think why he’d have a grudge against her. Seems to be an equal opportunity hater.”
“Have you talked
to Tiny?”
“Not yet, little darlin’.”
“What about with Roberto Gonzalez?”
Kix shook his head. “Funny thing, they’ve both gotten mighty scarce since I started asking for them.”
Cady nibbled on her bottom lip and Kix closed his eyes against the surge of lust that went through his cock. Damn but he wanted to suck on her lip, her nipples, the flesh over her abdomen, her clit, her… Hell, the truth of the matter was that he wanted to run his lips and tongue over every inch of skin.
“Do you think they already heard that you were investigating for Adrienne?”
It took Kix a minute to get his mind out of her pants and reconnect with the conversation. He forced his eyes upward, to meet hers, and took satisfaction in the way her cheeks were flushed. “Hard to say. Some crooks have enough savvy to stay ahead of the law—at least in the short term. Tiny and Gonzalez may have something else going and they’re worried about me finding out about it.”
“Did you flash your badge?”
“Didn’t need to.” Kix couldn’t resist. He leaned forward and brushed his lips against hers. “A little bit of Texas charm and those ladies in the race office were practically throwing answers at me.”
Cady didn’t know whether to feel depressed or amused. In some part of her brain last night—some very small, non-hormone-overwhelmed part—she’d known that sleeping with him was going to complicate things. Just because he’d had enough sense not to flirt with Erin and Lyric didn’t mean that he wasn’t going to turn on the charm when someone else caught his eye.
His heart gave a little kick at the expression on her face and he leaned down, taking her bottom lip between his, sucking on it gently before saying, “‘Course, they just got interrogation-variety charm.” He pressed his erection against her and closed his eyes briefly when her body softened, cradling him. Damn if the fit wasn’t just plain perfect. “I save the real firepower for you.”
Cady laughed and gave him a hug before stepping back. “Speaking of fires, were you still on the backstretch when the barn was burning?”
