Book Four of the Winning Odds Series: Soon to be a Movie
Page 10
Ben nodded. “He’s not going anywhere. You’ll figure him out.”
“Yeah, but….”
Ben didn’t like the sound of that. “What?”
“I used Lucy’s nursing-school tuition to buy him. She doesn’t know.”
“So this isn’t just about the horse after all.”
“No. It is, but….” Junior leaned his head against Max’s neck. “The last thing I need is for her mom and dad to find out. Tony’ll tell everybody.”
Ben crossed his arms and just looked at him for a moment. “You asking my advice?”
“I guess. Yes.”
“You need to tell Lucy.”
“Yeah right.”
“The last thing you want is for her to find out on her own. You’ll ruin her trust, if you haven’t already.”
“Trust in what?” Tom asked, walking down the shedrow.
Junior shook his head, begging Ben with his eyes not to tell him.
“Nothing,” Ben said. “We’re just talking horses.”
When Tom walked on, Ben gave Junior a stern warning. “I don’t cotton to lies.”
“I didn’t lie.”
“There are sins of admission and sins of omission. You need to do the right thing, tonight, before this goes any further. And if she’s still talking to you, you need to apologize.”
~ * ~
Pastor Mitchell got a text message to come to the Kaufman barn and to get there quickly. Dusty got a message as well and met him there. Dave and Connie were at it again. The two of them could be heard screaming at each other three barns away.
“Don’t get in the middle of this, Pastor,” Dave said, when he and Dusty appeared on the scene. “She started it and I’m gonna finish it.”
Connie laughed. “You’re not gonna to do shit! Go on! Get out of here. Go home! I’m tired of you!”
“You’re tired of me? That’s a good one! Why don’t you go home and while you’re at it, gather up your shit everywhere and get out of the house!”
“That’s nice! That’s nice, Dave!! Well, I for one am sick and tired of you talking about the house like it’s all yours. My name’s on the deed last time I checked! You couldn’t finance a pup tent!”
Pastor Mitchell sighed.
“Yeah! You heard me! If it weren’t for me and my horses we’d be starving to death!”
“Really? Who’d be training them? You? Don’t make me laugh!”
“Come on. Come on,” Dusty said. “You’re upsetting the horses.”
They actually weren’t. The horses were used to them. But it was worth a try. Dusty sat down on the bench outside their tack room to rest his foot.
Pastor Mitchell took a turn. “Listen,” he said. “Both of you. I’ve had it. This is the straw that broke the camel’s back. Forgive me, Heavenly Father, give them to Satan! Dusty, write ‘em up. Get them off the track. I’ve had it. I tell you, I’ve had it! I’ve failed! I admit it! I’ve failed!”
Connie and Dave stared at him in disbelief. “What do you mean, you’ve had it. This has nothing to do with you!” Connie said.
“It does! I’ve failed you both! I’m sorry!!” He threw up his hands and walked away. “I tell you I’m sorry!”
Dusty shook his head at Connie and Dave. “Now look what you’ve done.”
“We didn’t do anything!” Connie said. “Pastor! Come back!”
Pastor Mitchell waved over his shoulder and kept right on walking. “I’ve had it! I mean it! I’ve had it! I quit!”
Connie turned to Dave. “Tell him you’re sorry!”
“What am I sorry for? What the hell just happened? This isn’t my fault! This is your fault!”
“Dave!”
“Pastor!” Dave yelled. “Come back! We’ll stop! Come back! This isn’t your fault!”
Pastor Mitchell slowed his pace, but continued walking and praying, a slight grin on his face.
“It’s Connie’s fault!” Dave yelled.
Pastor Mitchell’s grin vanished as he turned the corner at the end of the barn.
Connie looked at Dusty. “Does this mean he’s quitting us or quitting-quitting?”
“I don’t know. I’ll tell you what though, I’m done too. Maybe if my damn toe weren’t so sore, I could take this in stride just like all the other times. Even the day you two went at each other at the HBPA. We’re all having a good time at the meeting eating pizza and who said what, I don’t know.” He raised his arms. “And you two start fighting. You probably don’t even remember why you were fighting. But there you were, ruining everything for everybody! Everybody! What gives you that right? What – gives – you – that – right?” he said, dragging each word out. “What gives you that right?”
Both Connie and Dave stood with their mouths open.
“You can’t cook and drool in your sleep!” He pointed to Connie. “And you stink up the bathroom for hours!” he said to Dave. “We all know that! How do we know that? That’s how you fight! You air your dirty laundry everywhere! But you know what? We don’t want to know! NONE of us do! Do you understand? We don’t!”
Pastor Mitchell stood out of sight just around the corner, darting his eyes back and forth as he listened.
“We don’t!” Dusty repeated. “We don’t want to hear it! Not then! Not now! Not ever!” With that, he wrote them both a pink slip, tossed them on the bench, and hobbled down between the barns.
Pastor Mitchell was waiting just on the other side of the road. “Do you think it’ll work?”
Dusty shook his head. “I don’t know. But I think I need help back to the barn.”
“Here,” Pastor Mitchell wrapped his arm around his shoulder. “Come on. Lean on me.”
“Thank you.”
Chapter Sixteen
Wendy led the way down the long cavernous corridor to the far end of the basement past the boiler room; roaring loud, past the maintenance area, past the warehouse holding all the restroom supplies, past the garbage collection area, past rows and rows of huge floor-to-ceiling electrical panels, past the Laundry, and past the main computer terminal.
“Jesus, do we need a passport? Are we even anywhere near the place?”
“Yes. It’s right around the corner. Remember, no going beyond the cordoned-off area. I’m serious. It’s a liability issue.”
“No problemo!”
When they finally reached the damage area Leon and the crew’s reaction was pretty much the same as Wendy’s when she first saw the demolition. “Holy crap!”
“It looks worse than it is,” she said.
“Wow!”
A twenty-foot-high wall, at least thirty-three-feet wide was crumbled into a hill-sized heap. Workmen were jackhammering the cement floor. Workmen were breaking down the remaining bricks on the wall. Debris was being piled into the bed of a dump truck by two men operating front-end loading Bobcats. There were workers everywhere.
“Originally it was just a crack!” Wendy shouted over the noise. “All that was intact. This is just part of getting to the bottom of things!”
“Can we go enter under this?” Leon asked, raising the cordon barrier.
“No!”
“Can you?”
“What for? Why?”
“I need you closer to the action!”
Wendy shook her head.
“Why not? Is it more dangerous than you’re saying?”
Wendy looked at him. “You’re a pain, you know.”
“I’m just doing my job, just like you.” He waved to one of the workmen and shouted. “Hard hat please!”
“Never mind!” Wendy yelled to the man. “I’ll get it.” She walked to an area near the back entrance, picked up a hard hat off the table and started back.
“Is there one in a different color?” Leon shouted. “That yellow’s dreadful! Do they have blue or white?”
Wendy was initially just going to ignore the request until her eyes rested upon one that was neon green. “How’s this?”
“Perfect!”
&nb
sp; Wendy put it on as she walked back.
“Oh Lord,” Leon said. “It’s so big.” He took it off her head. “Oh good, it’s adjustable.”
Wendy rolled her eyes and sighed.
When the restoration foreman noticed them standing there and waved to Wendy, Leon called to him. “Yoo-hoo! Can we talk to you a minute?”
The man motioned he’d be right there.
“Here, try this,” Leon said, handing the hard hat to Wendy.
Wendy tried it on. “It’s too tight.”
“Never mind, it looks wonderful. Hurry, get ready, here he comes. Make up!”
The make-up person rushed in, wisping Wendy’s hair around the hard hat, framing her face with curls, powder, blush, a little eyeliner, mascara. “No fluttering. It’ll dry in a second. Let it dry.”
Wendy tried not to blink. She tried not to laugh.
“Pucker. Okay, open. There.” Lipstick applied, the woman turned Wendy toward Leon.
“Look at those eyes pop,” he said. “Perfect color! People will see exactly how pretty you are.”
“I’d rather be seen as the Assistant General Manager, second in charge here at Nottingham Downs, a position I worked hard for.”
“Yes. Yes. Of course. That too.”
“What can I do for you, Mrs. Girard?” the foreman asked, joining them.
“Well, if you could just give us an assessment of the damage and an update.”
“Okay, um….” The man hesitated when Leon nudged them further back into the restricted area and positioned both videographers. One zoomed in on the man for a profile shot. The other, a head-on shot of him standing next to Wendy in front of the demolished wall.
“Stage set. Picking up in the middle of the conversation,” Leon said. “And action.”
Wendy knew the routine. She asked the questions. The foreman gave the answers. “The fear originally was that it could possibly be a supporting wall. The steel work was fine, but we weren’t sure if the structure itself was compromised in any way. We’ve ruled out any issues there, but in the process we located some damage to the foundation underneath. There’s no telling how long it had been there. My opinion is it’s been a long time.”
“Is there any danger involved with these repairs?”
“There’s always an element of danger. This is a massive building, not to mention its age. It was built roughly sixty-five years ago. Safety regulations are much different now than they were back then.”
Wendy ignored Leon nudging the close-up videographer for a different angle, zooming in closer and closer “How long will the repair take? The initial estimate was three weeks.” As she asked those questions, she reminded herself that the documentary would not be released for at least three months, maybe longer. “Will this foundation discovery set you back?”
“A little bit,” the man said. “We’re just about at the level where we need to make that assessment. I’ll keep you informed.” He caught sight of a situation that needed his immediate attention. “Now if you’ll excuse me.”
“Thank you,” Wendy said.
“And cut!”
~ * ~
Señor and George decided it would be a good idea to set up a picnic table near the construction site. They could have their morning coffee there, their lunch. That led to thinking an additional table to accommodate all the workers might be nice, and some umbrellas for shade. The Port-a-Pot and water tank had arrived first thing in the morning. The culvert pipes were delivered just before noon. It was a hustling, bustling, happening place.
The midday highlight was a special delivery on its way to T-Bone’s Place.
“You’re kidding me! He did it!” George said. “He bought one!” Even the construction workers stopped to watch it pass by. “Cracker Jack Henderson’s done gone and bought himself a trolley.”
“I’ll be damned!”
When the driver rang the bell several times, George instinctively glanced over his shoulder at the horses in the pastures. Beau Born had picked his head up high. He seemed to be the only one even mildly concerned. The rest were just grazing, some napping. The bell had a nice sound.
“Ben’ll like that it’s not silver,” Señor said.
It was dark red and green with gold trim, a ten-seater sporting a large cargo area, open and shut windows front to back and a brand new license tag. Obviously powered by a gas engine, it was single axle in front, dual axle in the rear. It glided right along.
“Wonder how fast it goes,” Señor said.
“I don’t know. It must be doing about thirty-five to forty now. I saw one like that on a freeway once. It was moving right along.”
Very shortly after it stopped at the corner and made the turn, they heard the old-timers hooting and hollering and whistling. Not long after that, here it came, loaded with passengers and Cracker Jack at the wheel, his wild and crazy snow-white hair flowing out the window.
When he pulled to a stop, Señor and George were surprised to see Jeannie and Clint in the back in what had looked like a cargo area. “It’s a reproduction. It came with a wheelchair lift. Can you believe it?”
Even Vicky, Lucy, and little Julie were onboard. They all waved as Cracker Jack drove on. A short distance away he rang the bell and they could hear everyone laughing.
“Ring it again,” Miguel said.
Ring! Ring!
Then more laughing.
When they made the corner and were out of sight, George and Señor went back to diligently watching the construction, until about five minutes later, when here came the trolley again. Everyone waved, laughing again when George and Señor waved back. Julie giggled.
Next time around they were singing, “Seventy-nine bottles of beer on the wall, seventy-nine bottles of beer. Take one down and pass it around, seventy-eight bottles of beer on the wall.”
“We’re done now,” Cracker Jack said. “It’s nap time!”
They all waved again. George and Señor waved back. Even some of the construction workers waved. Laughing and waving itself became funny at this point. Little Julie waved with both hands, giggling. As they drove on, singing, they could be heard even after they made the turn and started down the road behind the training track. “Seventy-five bottles of beer on the wall, seventy-five bottles of beer. Take one done and pass it around, seventy-four bottles of beer on the wall.”
~ * ~
Richard walked down the congressional corridor to the main exit, briefcase in hand, and could have passed for a politician, albeit one from out west since he was wearing cowboy boots.
“Mr. Spears! Mr. Spears!”
Richard turned.
Janet Dupree hurried toward him. “Can we talk?”
“Sure.” Richard looked around for a bench.
“Over coffee maybe?”
Richard glanced at this watch. “All right. I’ve got a few minutes. My plane doesn’t leave for a couple of hours. Do you know where we can get some?”
“Yes.” Janet showed the way to a coffee shop close by. The only two seats available were at the counter. “Good enough.”
Richard sat down next to her. Both ordered black coffee.
“Pretty intense in there, huh?”
Richard smiled and sipped his coffee. “I’m glad it’s over if that’s what you mean.”
“I can’t thank you enough for your testimony. I truly appreciate what you are doing at Nottingham Downs.”
“Thank you. But I have to credit Ben Miller for the vast majority of that.”
The woman nodded. “You’re both good men.”
Richard looked at her. “I’m sorry, but I don’t remember you.”
The woman chuckled. “That’s because we just met an hour ago.”
Richard blushed. So this wasn’t his Janet-don’t-be-late mystery woman. He laughed at himself and felt compelled to offer a brief explanation.
“Well, that’s kinda freaky,” Janet said. “And you don’t know who she is at all?”
Richard smiled. “Nope.”
“We’re thinking it has to be big,” she said. “Something that we can sensationalize. Talk doesn’t seem to be working, though for lack of anything else….”
“I caution you to not take too radical an approach. In my opinion, talk is starting to work. The movement is gathering momentum. The radicals already have their opinion. Who we need to appeal to is the horsemen and the fans of racing. The change will start with them. It’s happening already.”
~ * ~
Junior helped Lucy wash dinner dishes at T-Bone’s and suggested they go for a walk. It seemed somewhat odd to her, his asking. But then again, she thought, maybe he wants to go see the new construction site. “All right, go get the stroller.”
“No. Let’s leave Julie here. She’s playing good. Vicky’s watching her. I’ll tell her we won’t be long.”
“Is this about Max?”
Junior hesitated, feeling the weight of the world in his reply. “Yes.”
“Come on, he’s going to be fine. Dad says you just have to stop worrying.”
“Who told him I was worrying?”
“Me. He’s my dad. He’s your father-in-law for Christ sake. I thought he might have a suggestion. He’s been training horses his whole life.”
“Yeah, and how many races does he win?” No sooner said, Junior regretted that comment. “I’m sorry. I know he’s has some bad luck lately. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.”
“Yes, you did. You say it all the time.”
“Yeah, but I shouldn’t have said it now.”
“Why? Why not now?”
Junior sighed. “Can we just go for a walk? Is that too fucking much to ask?”
Lucy just looked at him.
“I’m sorry. I….”
“You’re doing an awful lot of apologizing. What have you done? Are you having an affair or something?”
Junior laughed. “An affair? I wish!”
“What!?”
Junior laughed again. “That’s not what I meant. He put his arms around her and pulled her close. “Never in a million years. Now can we just go for a walk? Please….”
Lucy hugged him and nodded, happy. But as they walked along the road and Junior reached for her hand, she suddenly got that uncomfortable fearful feeling again. As she looked up at him and he smiled, there was something like fear in his eyes as well. He pointed to one of the picnic tables by the construction site and sat down across from her.