Saddled With Trouble (16 page)

“Sure,” Michaela said. For the remainder of their dinner, she tried to stay as involved as she could about topics as simple as the weather to as complicated as politics in the Middle East, but her mind kept wandering back to Kevin Tanner’s proposition and the fact that the man had a horse on his newly acquired property hours ago. She wanted to question him further and see if he could answer her question as to where the horse had disappeared to, but decided for now to wait for another opening. She also couldn’t forget the conversation she’d overheard between Camden and Kevin just the night before. Were they two simply fantastic liars with a huge secret to hide?

As they finished dinner and moved over to the bar and club, Michaela had a thought. “So, Kevin, have you ever ridden or owned a horse before?”

He nodded. “Sure. My first wife owned Arabians. Pretty horses to look at, but gawd, what a pain in the ass. High strung.”

“Maybe. I’m not completely convinced. Sure they can be a bit more squirrelly than some of the other breeds, but I was out at the Scottsdale Arabian Show a few years ago to watch the stock horses and I was impressed. They’re beautiful and agile. I actually wouldn’t mind having one of my own. So, you don’t have a horse now?”

“No. I like to look at them, but riding is not for me.”

“Huh. Did you know that there’s a horse been taking up house in your old dairy barn?”

“What?”

Camden shifted in the booth. “Yeah. My stud, Rocky, got loose today and he charged right over to your place. He apparently found himself a girlfriend. There was a mare there. In a stall, flirting with him.”

Kevin shook his head. “That’s impossible. I was over there two days ago and there was nothing there. Nothing but a bunch of cobwebs and rotted wood. I don’t know if you’re playing a game with me, but it’s making you look a bit foolish.”

“Me? Playing a game? Tell him, Camden: There was a mare there earlier today and then when I went back, she was gone.” Camden didn’t say anything. “Camden, are you going to back me up on this?”

“Technically, I didn’t see a horse. You told me there was a horse there.”

“I don’t believe this.” Michaela stood and put her hands on her hips. “Someone
is
playing games here, but it isn’t me.” She started to leave.

Camden caught up to her as Michaela walked toward the bar. “I’m sorry, hon, but I didn’t see a horse.” Michaela kept walking. “I think you’re tired and angry and—”

“And what? You think I’m losing it? That I didn’t see a horse in
Kevin’s
barn?”

“No. That’s not what I’m saying.”

Michaela stopped and faced her. “Really? Then, why didn’t you defend me back there?”

“I’m sorry. I’ll go tell him right now that I believe you. I
do
believe you.”

“You can tell him whatever you want, but I know what I saw and I also think Kevin Tanner is hiding something. And, I think he’s making a fool of you.”

Camden looked like she’d been punched. “What?”

“I think the man is playing you to get to me so he can buy me out.”

“I don’t . . . think that’s true.” Camden stuttered on her words. “I think he . . . really likes me. Men do like me.”

“Yes they do. They certainly do. But not always for the right reasons. I think that men tend to play you, Camden.” Michaela walked away from her friend, leaving Camden stunned and hurt— her own stomach sank as despair blanketed her heart.

NINETEEN

MICHAELA SAT DOWN AT THE BAR, SHOVING down her emotion, trying hard to keep from crying. Had Camden’s greed for the good life come before loyalty and friendship? Could money and Kevin’s love be
that
important to her? Enough to betray? Enough to . . . kill?

“A Coke, please. Can you make sure no one takes my seat? I have to go to the restroom.”

He winked at her. “You got it.”

When she came back there was a glass of white wine waiting for her, not a Coke. She called the bartender back over and pointed at the wine. “I didn’t order wine. I asked for a Coke.”

“Yeah.” He tossed a dish towel over his shoulder, and leaned against the bar, his dirty blonde, longish hair falling down in front of his eyes.

“Yeah. Can you take it back?”

The bartender lifted his head, tossed back the hair, and gazed past her. “That would be rude, don’t you think,” a voice from behind her said.

Her stomach dropped as she recognized the voice and turned to face her ex-husband. “Brad.”

He looked at her with his light brown eyes, the kind that made you wonder if they were green, hazel, or brown. They were brown. Poop brown. He ran a hand through his hair, which she was glad to see was thinning. The hair was the same color as the poop-brown eyes. His other hand was wrapped around a drink. Surely a gin and tonic: a mean man’s drink, as far as she was concerned.

“I can stand.” He squeezed himself in between the chair, the bar and her.

She pulled as far from him as she could and crossed her arms. “What do you want?”

“I wanted to say hi. Is that a crime?”

She laughed. “It’s all a crime when it comes to you.”

“Now, now, sweetie, you know that’s not true . . . or fair.”

Michaela eyed the wine. Suddenly it looked good. She took a long sip from it. “I am not your sweetie.” She poked him in the chest. “And, I would appreciate it if you would leave now. Don’t you have your Barbie doll to keep you company? What’s she doing? Making sure her lipstick is just so?”

“My, you have gotten nasty. I’m having a drink with Bean.” He nodded at a table in the corner where Michaela spotted Bean, who looked shell-shocked while drinking what appeared to be a Shirley Temple.

“What are you doing with that poor man?”

“We’re friends.”

“Friends, my butt! You used Bean while you worked for my uncle and you’re up to something now with him, aren’t you?”

“God, Michaela, always so suspicious.”

“Of you. Uh, yeah. With good reason, I might add.”

“Bean called me. He said that he wanted someone to talk to about Lou. He’s sad.”

“I don’t believe you.”

He shrugged. “It’s the truth. Guy needs a friend right now. He’s all distraught and so I told him that I’d take him out for some dinner and we could talk. Honest.”

“Great, now leave.”

“Don’t be like that. I wanted to come by and say hello, buy you a drink. We used to sleep together, after all.”

“Don’t remind me.”

“Look Mick, I really just came over to tell you I was sorry to hear about Lou. I figured you’re having a hard time. I know how close you were with the guy and Bean says that you’ve been pretty upset. So, I’m sorry. I am.”

If she could have crawled inside the barstool she was seated on, she would have. She eyed him. Frankly she was getting sick and tired of people saying things she doubted they meant. “Sure. I bet you are.”

“Why would you say that? Of course I’m sorry.”

“Please, Brad. It’s no secret that you weren’t exactly pleased you got caught all tangled up with Miss Do-Si-Do. I think you had a plan from the get-go. You wanted to have your cake and eat it, too, but you choked on it, and it was my uncle who saw to it that you choked.”

Brad rolled his eyes. “Is that what you told that cop who came around asking both me and Kirsten a ton of questions? Were you the one to tell him that I have some vendetta toward you? You know that’s not true. I don’t appreciate having police at my back door looking into my personal life.”

“Oh, and like you didn’t tell the detective that I was so in love with you and wanted a baby so much that I was happier being in the dark about your affair. That I was angry with my uncle for showing me the truth. I’m sure you don’t appreciate the police having a peek at your personal life. It hasn’t exactly been stellar. But, I’m also sure that you have
nothing
to hide either. God knows you’ve never kept any dirty little secrets from me.”

“You will not let it go, will you?”

“Excuse me?”

“Me, you, this bitterness you feel over me and Kirsten. I know you pulled that little horseshit stunt on me the other night. I’m not too happy about it, but I’ll let it go. See that’s the kind of guy I am. I’m a good guy. You need to let it all go, too, sweetheart.”

“Brad, trust me when I say that I have let it go, but it doesn’t mean I have to associate with you at all . . . and why in the world would I ever believe anything you say is sincere and truthful?”

“Dammit, Michaela, it was one mistake. One little mistake. So, I fooled around. She came on to me, and damn . . . well, she threw herself at me, and most men I know would have done exactly the same thing that I did. I didn’t mean for it to get out of hand. I didn’t want to carry on with her. It just sort of happened. And yes, I was not happy that Lou got involved in it. He should have stayed out of it, but he didn’t. I know he thought of you like his own daughter and that he was trying to protect you, but I would have come around and we could have worked it out, if he hadn’t sent you those pictures. I don’t love her. I never have and never will, not like I love you. Come on Mick, I
do
, I still love you. Give me another chance. Let’s work it out. We can keep trying to have a baby and I’ll be there this time for you. I know how bad I messed up. I miss you a lot.” He touched her shoulder; she swatted his hand away.

Michaela could hardly find words. “How dare you!”

“What?”

“How in the hell did I ever marry someone like you? I must’ve been drugged or insane. I can’t believe my ears. One
little
mistake? No, it was a giant mistake and not just one time either. She came on to you? Hmm, well I don’t remember anywhere in the vows we took, it stating that it was okay to be unfaithful if the other party instigates it. Or that just because you can get it up when a hot girl struts by doesn’t mean you have to say yes. And, as far as my uncle doing the right thing? You
bet
he did. I’m so grateful every day for what he did. Work it out? Now you want to come back to me? And, you even have the audacity to mention trying to have a child with me, when you damn well know that we, and let me state it again—
we
— owe thousands in medical bills to an infertility specialist, which you won’t cough up. You have to send your girlfriend over to hound me to sign divorce papers and you won’t even meet your obligations? My guess is the only reason you’re even suggesting any kind of reconciliation is that Kirsten threw you out on your ass tonight for some reason and you need a place to go. I suspect that right about now, tucking your tail and trying to convince me to take you back is rather appealing. And as far as love . . . Well, I believe you don’t love Kirsten, and know what, I believe you don’t love me, because the only thing a selfish prick like you can love is
yourself
.”

“Why, you little—”

“Everything okay here?” Michaela turned to see Joey Pellegrino, beer in one hand, the other clenched. “Is he bothering you?”

“I am not bothering her,” Brad spat back. “We’re having a private conversation.”

“Actually, he is bothering me.”

“The lady says you are. It looks like your ‘private conversation’ is over. I think that if you want to wake up in the morning looking as you do tonight— uh, in one piece, that is— then I suggest you leave.” Joey stared at him.

That stare alone would have done the job, but the words . . . oh they were great, too.

Brad started to say something, then walked away mumbling under his breath.

“Thank you,” Michaela said. Her hands were shaking and she decided to finish off the wine in one fell swoop.

“Easy there. He really got to you, didn’t he?”

“I guess. He knows how to get under my skin.”

Joey sat down next to her. “My offer still stands. I know some people, a few friends of some of my cousins who could make his life fairly miserable.”

“No. I’m fine. Don’t do anything foolish. I appreciate the thought, though. Hey, where is Marianne?”

“She and the kids are in the restaurant. I came in here for a beer. She doesn’t like me to drink in front of the kids.”

“Oh, the boss, huh?”

“Yeah, you know, I gotta do the right thing for the kids, and honestly I had to get away from them for five minutes. Joey Jr. is a handful. Kid is practically climbing the walls, screaming in my ear. And, then the baby on top of it, I tell you, it’s enough to make me crazy sometimes. Anyway, I don’t have a lot of time, and it’s good you’re here. I found something out about who your dad owes, and how much.”

“Who?”

“Danny Amalfi, my aunt Luisa’s godmother’s brother’s son.”

“Huh?”

“It don’t matter. He’s a lowlife bookie and low man on the totem pole in the family. But your pop is into him for a hundred grand and keeps coming back. Danny don’t say no, he just keeps racking up the debt knowing that your pop has some land and his credit probably ain’t so great, that’s why he doesn’t borrow on it to gamble with. Danny’s thinking he can get himself a nice little ranch out of this deal, if he plays his cards right.”

“My mother would have to sign any papers having to do with their home and property.”

“Right. She’s the boss, too. Women. But she may have no choice, if your pop keeps sinking the ship. Anyway, Danny tells my cousin Pauly that he can force your pop to give up his land if he hooks him for a few more grand.”

“Oh, God, no. This is bad. Do you think Danny had anything to do with my uncle’s murder?”

“No. Danny might be one to break a kneecap or two, but he’s a wuss, and like I told you, it’s code that you don’t go after a guy’s family.”

“Okay. I suppose that’s a positive,” Michaela replied. “But what am I going to do about my dad?”

“You gotta talk to him.”

“I know.”

“Listen, you get your dad to stop this nonsense. I think I can handle Danny. He owes me a favor, a big one. I think I can maybe make this thing go away for your dad, or at least get it reduced.”

Michaela was stunned. “You would do that?”

“We’re friends. You’re a good lady. You’ve had it rough lately, so let me see if I can help.”