Twisted Dreams

by F J messina

  “Who?”

  “See the two guys who just walked out of the barn,” Sonia was pointing, her hand held close to her chest, “one tall one and the other a short guy?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Wow.” Sonia turned away from the men. “The little guy. That’s Ron Harris. He’s a broker, a bloodstock agent. The last time I saw him he was getting reamed by the guy who owns Frailing. No,” she tipped her head, “wait a minute, not Frailing’s owner, his breeder.”

  Brad kept his eyes directed straight ahead as if looking past the crowd. “And who’s the other guy?”

  “Oh, that’s Limey. He works . . . Wait a minute. He works on Downstream Farm. Frailing’s not even here today.” She looked up at Brad. “What’s he doing here, and with Ron Harris?”

  Brad glanced down at Sonia then looked up again. “Could just be friends? Maybe he’s up here just for the race. He’s in the industry, right?”

  “Yeah. I guess.” Her voice reflected her doubts. She turned and faced the men again. “But, take a look at him. How would you describe him?”

  Brad focused on the two men. “The little guy?”

  “No,” she shook her head, “the big guy.”

  “Tall. Muscular. Big hands.”

  “You’re right. Tall, big hands. And what did the police tell us about the guy they had on video riding the bus from Bennington to Saratoga Springs after dumping LaKeisha’s body?”

  Brad gave her a quick look. “Dumping her body, you think.”

  “Yeah.” She rolled her eyes. “Anyway. How did they describe him? Tall, right? I wonder if we asked them to look at the video again, would they say he had big hands?”

  Brad smiled gently. “Bit of a stretch for surveillance video but might just be worth asking.”

  Sonia tugged on Brad’s sleeve, energized. “Did you see that?”

  “See what?”

  She moved her mouth closer to his ear, almost whispering. “The look Ashkenazi just gave Harris as he left the barn. I’ll be damned if that didn’t look like he wanted to ream Harris the same kind of new one that the other breeder did.”

  “What other breeder?” He looked confused.

  Sonia’s frustration showed in her voice. “Frailing’s breeder. Didn’t I tell you that we overheard him saying something about being promised a whole new something or other? I can’t remember his name. But he was as pissed as Ashkenazi looks right now. More so, really.”

  Suddenly Sonia sensed two security guards walking up behind her and Brad. She spun, pulling Brad with her. “Looking pretty good here, guys."

  Brad tipped his imaginary hat and smiled. “Everything seems secure.” They walked past the guards and back toward the grandstand.

  49

  Sonia took her seat at the breakfast table in the Galt House restaurant. She was sitting across from Burnett and Jet, next to Brad. She was also sitting in Louisville, Kentucky, home of the Kentucky Derby. The night before, they had eaten “Hot Browns” for dinner at the place of the meals’ origin, the historic Brown Hotel on West Broadway.

  Sonia had been to the races two other days in the past few weeks, but this was different. She was coming to realize that to be in Lou-a-vul, Kentucky, on the first Saturday in May, was to be in a very, very special place.

  The Kentucky Derby festival had been in full gear for over a week. There had been full and half marathons. That same weekend there had been four lift-off times for huge hot-air balloon events that filled the sky with orbs of every color imaginable, all of them lit either by the bright sun of morning or the soft glow of sunset. On the previous weekend, one of the largest fireworks displays in the country had taken place. Battling displays from two bridges had filled not only the sky with light, but the Ohio River with bursting flashes that reflected the energy and excitement of the season. The Pegasus Parade had filled downtown with marching bands, equine units, and huge inflatable characters. The Derby Festival was pure Americana at its best.

  The afternoon wore on. Sonia watched as the grandstands at Churchill Downs filled with celebrities of every kind, as well as ordinary commoners bedecked in their Derby finest. Colorful women’s hats and fingers holding mint juleps filled the entire venue with a sense of excitement and celebration. Jet was resplendent in another flowing outfit, an off-the-shoulder dress with bright red and yellow flowers. She also wore a yellow, wide-brimmed hat that covered her from shoulder to shoulder. Sonia, on the other hand, had worn another simple dress, white, and red pumps. In honor of the occasion, she had added a large necklace of blue and white stones that draped down almost to her bust line. On her head, she was wearing a dark red fascinator with a long white feather flowing out of it. It made her feel a little silly, but after all, it was the derby.

  The feeling didn’t become electric, however, until the University of Louisville Band stepped in place and started playing the song. At that very moment, it was the song that was reverberating throughout the entire Commonwealth of Kentucky. My Old Kentucky Home. The thousands of voices in the stands sang along, if only on the well-known chorus.

  For all that was going on around her, however, Sonia was not fully present. She was distracted. Her mind kept chewing on the connection between the three missing girls, and either Ron Harris or Limey. Or maybe it was both. She pursed her lips. Am I just fooling myself? It’s not three missing girls, it’s three dead girls, isn’t it?

  Sonia wasn’t sure if it was the large field of horses that were running in the Derby that day or the fact that they moved extra slowly in order to let the TV coverage eek out every bit of airtime they could before the race, but it seemed to take forever before all twenty horses were in the gate. Then, in an explosion of one bell and thousands of voices, they were off.

  Run Lucky, the third horse that had become of so much interest to them, came charging out of the three hole, relatively close to the rail. Within the first eighth of a mile, the pack was thinning, each rider trying to keep his mount close to the rail, covering as little ground as possible. As they came out of the first turn, Run Lucky was running fifth, well off the pace of the same black colt, Coal Minor, and bay, Carmel Delight, that had dominated the Bluegrass Stakes. All the way around the backstretch, Run Lucky stayed in that position. Sonia watched, hoping he would win, though she wasn’t sure why.

  The crowd went wild, and Sonia was almost lifted off the ground as the horses passed the quarter pole and turned into the final stretch. Unlike Frailing, Run Lucky was known as a closer, a horse with a great burst of energy at the end of a race. And, true to form, Sonia watched as he drifted to the middle of the track and seemed to kick into another gear. Moving steadily closer and closer to the leaders, it seemed to Sonia that he could win this race if only he didn’t run out of track. Into the stretch he was running fourth, then third, then sliding past Coal Minor. Run Lucky was charging, only inches behind Carmel Delight. Flying down the track, but appearing to move in slow motion, he was suddenly a nose ahead of Carmel Delight, then more. In the final eighth, the last furlong, Run Lucky started to pull away, on his way to winning the most prestigious horse race in the world. A length ahead, then a length and a half, the crowd noise crescendoed into a deafening roar.

  Sonia’s eyes were glued to the magnificent animal as he seemed to float away from the others, but what she couldn’t understand was why he began drifting to his right. He began veering harder, faster, then . . .

  A hush crashed down over Churchill Downs. The roar of the crowd still ringing through the rafters. Run Lucky’s leg had crumbled under him. Tossing his jockey, he had stumbled to the ground. Sonia knew that hers were not the only eyes that never saw which horse won the race. So many in the crowd had no choice but to stare at the suffering, the abject horror, of such a beautiful animal, broken, his future, his life, slipping away. Sonia buried her face in Brad’s chest.

  50

  The Kentucky Derby is known as “The Fastest Two Minutes in Sports.” That day, however, those last few moments lingered in the minds o
f every human present for a very, very long time. Eventually, as the medical crew was dealing with the severely injured horse, Sonia and those around her started to regain their focus. She pulled Brad close to her. “We’ve got to learn everything we can about this.”

  “Babe, you watched it happen.” He looked gently into her eyes. “You saw the horse break down right in front of you. There was no foul play.”

  She continued to speak softly, but the urgency in her voice rose. “I’m not talking about that. It’s this whole thing. The three missing girls, the three winning horses, something happening to each of the horses. Something bigger is going on here, Brad, and somehow, some way, it’s right under our noses. I just can’t tell what it is.”

  Brad looked at her and shrugged. “What? What do you want to do right now?”

  “What I want to do right now is get back there to the barns and learn anything we possibly can.” The urgency in her voice matched the look on her face. “There must be something we can find out just by hanging around there.”

  Brad looked over the massive sea of people. “Babe, every single person in this whole place would like to get back there. It’s just not happening. First, security is going to be tighter than a bull’s butt in fly season. Second, this is such a major event, you wouldn’t be able to get past the media, even if security let everyone in.”

  She ran her fingers through her hair. “Maybe you could use one of your NCIS tricks again.”

  “Things like that only work when nobody’s really paying attention.” His eyes were scanning the entire scene. “That’s not going to be the case today.” He turned to her. “Look, we can give it a try. But don’t be surprised if we don’t make it very far.”

  Sonia turned to Jet and Burnett. “There’s always one more race after the derby. Why don’t you all watch that then meet us at the car? We’re not likely to make much progress. I just feel like we’ve got to give it our best shot.”

  Burnett reacted strongly. “No. We’d like to come with you.” He turned to Jet. “Right?”

  “You ain’t just whistlin’ Dixie, Professor.”

  Burnett’s reaction seemed strange to Sonia, but there was no time to argue. “Okay.”

  The foursome took off. Even with one race left, the crush of the crowd leaving the racetrack was hard to believe. While they were still a long walk away from their goal, the army of media being held back by security made it clear that they would get nowhere near Run Lucky’s team.

  Brad turned to Sonia, tugging on a few strands of her hair. “Look, it’s only right. This is a devastating time for anyone involved with that horse. They don’t need a bunch of rubberneckers coming by just for the chance to be part of the tragedy. C’mon. Let’s just go.”

  “Okay,” Sonia let out a sigh of resignation. “Let’s all get back to the car.”

  As they turned and headed for the parking lot, Sonia simply couldn’t keep from turning around and looking in the direction she wished they were moving. She stopped and grabbed Brad’s arm. “Look. Look who that is over there.”

  Brad’s eyes scanned the sea of people. It took a moment before he recognized two men, one very large, one small. “Son of a gun, it’s the broker and that guy from the farm.”

  “Right.” Her voice was full of life. “It’s Ron Harris and Limey. Can it possibly be that they’re connected to Run Lucky as well? Do they have something to do with all three horses?”

  Brad continued to survey the crowd. “Listen. I’m not much for coincidences. If I were a betting man, I’d say that if we look up the bloodstock agent involved in the sale of Run Lucky it’s going turn out to be the little guy who’s standing right over there.”

  Sonia was standing on her tiptoes trying to keep track of Harris and Limey as they worked their way through the crowd. “And Limey?”

  “Well, I’m not thinking his name will show up anywhere, but he is the one who most fits the description of the guy who rode the bus out of Bennington.”

  Jet stretched her body trying to see the two men. “What do we do now?”

  Brad put his hands on Sonia’s shoulders and turned her around. “You three go to Burnett’s car and wait for me. I’ll be─”

  “No,” Sonia’s voice tightened, “We’re not going back to the car. It’s not easy keeping track of two guys in this huge crowd. You and Burnett go off and follow from the right. Jet and I are going to follow from the left. That way, if one slips away, maybe the other won’t. And if they separate,” she turned and began walking, “we’ll all meet back at the car, whenever . . . .”

  Brad reached out, grabbed her arm, and spun her around. “Is this how it’s going to be from now on?” Only the smile on his face told her that he wasn’t really challenging her.

  She smiled and brushed that wisp of hair out of her face. “Get used to it mister. This is the way it’s going to be.” Then she stretched up and planted a kiss on his cheek. A moment later she and Jet disappeared into the crowd.

  Less than thirty minutes later, Sonia and Jet looked up and saw the men approaching Burnett’s car. She could tell that they were less than pleased. “What happened?”

  “We lost them. You too?”

  “Same here.” She shrugged. “It’s okay. We weren’t likely to learn anything important from them anyway. I think what’s important is that in all likelihood, we’ve just learned that Harris and Limey are somehow connected to all three horses, or farms, and we already know that all three of those farms are connected to our missing girls.”

  Brad pulled her close. “And we move on.” He opened the car door. “Let’s go. And when we get back to Lexington I’d like us to meet with Jet back in your offices.”

  She raised her eyebrows. “It’ll be late.”

  Brad reached up and touched Sonia’s face lightly with his fingertips. “I know, but what I’ve got to say, I want to say to both of you; I don’t think we should wait any longer to have this conversation.”

  51

  Sonia and Brad had gotten to the BCI offices just about twelve minutes before ten that evening, the time at which they were to meet Jet. Sonia wasn’t surprised when Jet walked in promptly at ten, but she was surprised to see who was with her. “Burnett, are you here to join us?”

  Jet grinned and didn’t give Burnett time to answer. “It seems that Burnett, here, is starting to feel like he’s really one of us. Isn’t that true, Burnett?”

  “Actually, yes.” He cut short his normal pre-statement routine after the tugs on his lapels. “But more importantly, how could I become aware of all that I’ve learned about this poor missing girl and not do everything I can to help find her?”

  Sonia looked up at him and smiled. “Well said, Burnett. We’re glad to have you aboard.”

  Everyone took a seat around the white, plastic table Sonia and Brad had set up in the waiting area. The room fell silent. All eyes turned toward Sonia. “Brad has asked if he could say something to all of us. I’d like to give him that opportunity.”

  Brad spoke evenly. “Okay, thank you.” His eyes passed slowly over the other faces at the table. “I want you to know that what I’m about to say is not easy for me. In fact, I can’t think of anything I’m less eager to say than this.” He paused.

  Jet jumped in. “Well, spit it out. It’s been a long, long day and not a pleasant one. Whatever it is, spit it out.”

  Brad continued. “Listen, from the perspective of someone who has been involved in every kind of investigation from theft, to kidnapping, to murder, there comes a time when the team has to step back and re-evaluate the situation.”

  No one else at the table made a sound.

  Brad looked directly at Sonia. “Now, based on statistics, I have to tell you that the longer anyone is missing, the greater the chance that they will never be found, particularly alive. Of course, the statistics are skewed by whether it’s a child or not, but one way or the other, unless someone has run off on their own, time is absolutely your enemy in a case like this.”

&
nbsp; He let his gaze travel across the table to Jet, then to Burnett. “And here’s the deal. Mariana Castillo disappeared on March twelfth or thirteenth. That’s a full eight weeks ago. Those are bad numbers, really bad numbers. Then there’s her two former colleagues. They’re dead, we know that for a fact; one was murdered, one most likely murdered. Add in the reality that these three girls were all former colleagues and that there is some sort of connection between horses from the three farms, and it becomes pretty clear.”

  Sonia couldn’t say the words. Apparently, neither could Jet or Burnett, so Brad went on. “The chances that Mariana is alive are, well, very, very small.” Brad reached out and squeezed Sonia’s hand. “I’m sorry, babe. I think you need to shift your resources. No more running all over the place trying to find where Mariana is hiding. She’s not hiding, not in my opinion, and you’re wasting resources following that line of thinking. I think you have to assume she’s dead and shift all your resources to finding out who killed her. And I’d like to be a part of that effort.”

  After a long pause, Jet leaned forward, her hand clasped demurely in front of her on the table and speaking more softly than usual. “So, what is it that we actually do?”

  Sonia let go of Brad’s hand. “Well, first of all, I don’t think we’re going to be able to get much help from the Lexington Police or the offices in Bennington or Saratoga Springs unless we kind of get in their faces. Someone’s going to have to make a trip up to Saratoga Springs and then on to Bennington. I assume they’ll be willing to send a copy of the surveillance video to LPD, but we need to be there in person, get the lay of the land, talk to folks, get the most out of that footage.”

  “I’ll go.” Every face turned toward Burnett. It was he who had spoken.

  Sonia reached out and touched Burnett’s arm. “Really, Burnett? You’d go?”