Read HORSES AND HEROIN (Romantic Mystery) Online
Authors: Bev Pettersen
Scott sighed and hung up.
A narrow footpath circled the back of the cafeteria. She followed the neglected trail around the building, through the parking lot of motley cars and past a dumpster that reeked of rotting food. An old golf cart, a gooseneck horse trailer with living quarters and a smaller stock trailer with a ‘For Sale’ sign squeezed into a gravel parking lot. And then the trail joined a beautiful private drive lined with white stucco fences so blindingly bright, they seemed to mark entry to a different world.
She rushed toward the cowshed. Braun and the other three horses stood in neatly railed paddocks. They pricked their ears as she approached, clearly hopeful of an early supper. Scott’s car wasn’t in the parking lot so she lingered outside. Braun stared over her head at the barn, tossing his head, too impatient to accept her pat.
She shrugged and entered the cowshed through the side door, straining to see through the gloom. Maybe Scott had walked from the villa.
But he wasn’t in the main barn or the tack room. She slipped into the arena. The haystack was still there, still untouched. Hopefully he’d let her bag some more alfalfa. Jake and Rambo had certainly appreciated the treat, and it was a shame to let such nice hay go to waste.
Someone moved—a man, bent over the hay baler. She jerked to a stop, her mouth drying. Students weren’t allowed in the cowshed, and she was here without Scott. Probably best to slip out the back door and hope he arrived soon.
The man raised his head, his eyes narrowing in recognition.
“Good afternoon,” Ramon said, his expression inscrutable. “Do you have another riding lesson?”
“No…I don’t think so.”
“Then you shouldn’t be here.” He selected a wrench from a shiny red toolbox and tightened a nut.
She jammed her hands in her pocket, studying his face. He didn’t look mad or irritated but wore that closed expression that was always hard to read. Probably one of the reasons he’d been such a successful jockey.
“I’m meeting Scott,” she said. “Not sure if there’s time for a lesson before supper but I’m hoping to be ready to join your class soon.”
“I saw you galloping yesterday. You’re ready now.”
She stiffened, surprised he’d noticed her galloping with Scott. They’d been at opposite ends of the track, and Ramon would have been busy with his large group of students.
“Really?” She hurried across the arena to the baler. “I can join your class?”
“Yes. You’re ready.”
“Well…that’s great.” She’d expected to feel more satisfaction but after talking to Eve, the only emotion she felt now was resentment. This man may have been a great jockey and a good teacher, but for some reason he’d lied about Joey. She wanted to pry the truth from those tight lips.
“I’ve wanted to join your class since I came,” she said, knowing that statement, at least, was true. “I’ve been over a week trotting in the field with the grooms.”
He lifted his head over the side of the baler. His mouth cracked in a smile and for a moment, he looked much more approachable. “Some people take a little longer to balance in the stirrups,” he said, “but once they get it, they’re often my best riders. I think you’re like that.”
She blinked, and despite her distrust of Ramon, enjoyed a little kick of pleasure. It had been demoralizing to be the last student promoted, especially since she’d always been considered a capable rider.
She pulled her hands from her pockets and leaned over the baler. “Can I help while I’m waiting? Are you baling hay?” She followed his glance to the loose pile of alfalfa. She hoped he wasn’t going to bale it all, at least not until she had a few more bags for Jake and Rambo.
“I’m just making some adjustments. This machine is new but cranky. If you want to help, you can bring the horses in for the night. I didn’t know Scott would be riding so often. Now the grain schedule is screwed up.” He turned his back in dismissal.
She rushed out the big end doors, eager to keep Ramon happy. Leather halters hung by each paddock gate. She slipped Braun’s halter on his head and clipped on the lead.
“Stealing horses now, in addition to skipping class?” Scott’s low voice sounded behind her.
She wheeled, surprised she hadn’t heard his approach. He’d swapped his earlier sports jacket for a black T-shirt and jeans but looked just as reserved, and there was a definite edge to his voice. He folded his arms along the top rail, the edge of his shirt banding formidable biceps. He didn’t look like anyone in need of recuperating, just a gorgeous hunk of man who was rightly annoyed. And unfortunately she couldn’t offer an explanation.
“Ramon asked me to lead in the horses,” she said, eyeing him cautiously.
He walked toward the second paddock and picked up a halter.
Braun shoved his nose against her arm, impatient with the delay. She pushed the gate open and led him from the paddock into the barn.
By the time she closed his stall door, Scott walked down the aisle with the three remaining horses clip clopping behind him. She wouldn’t have tried leading three strange Thoroughbreds at the same time, but they seemed perfectly behaved. Maybe they’d noticed his muscles too.
He shut their stall doors. “Does Ramon want them fed?” he asked.
“I’m not sure. He’s working on the baler.”
Scott strode down the aisle and scanned the arena. He called Ramon’s name but the arena was empty. He turned back to her, crossed those big arms, and part of her wished Ramon had stuck around.
“I’m very sorry about talking in your class,” she said quickly. “And that I left early. My friend was upset.”
He raised an eyebrow but didn’t speak.
“And I’m sorry I missing my riding lesson. I know that was even worse but I was still with her, and we both lost track of time and it was thoughtless but it really was important.” Her voice quivered with thoughts of Joey. “P-please. You have to know it was important.”
“Okay,” he said.
“I can’t even say why…” She blinked in surprise. “Okay?”
“Yup.” He stepped in. His head tilted and he covered her mouth in a hard kiss. Seconds later, it turned tender, so gentle her tension eased away. She’d been preparing for a battle and now she was melting inside. He widened his mouth, deepening the kiss. His tongue turned teasing, tantalizing with its exploration, until every nerve in her body woke. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed closer, needing to feel him.
He slipped his hand beneath her shirt, running it along her back, so slow, so assured, his confident touch making her quiver. She sighed when he lifted his head, a throaty sound of disappointment, but now his mouth trailed along her neck and that felt good too, his teeth and lips jolting her with sensation.
His hand slid along her ribs, his thumb just below her breast, fingers teasing as they stroked her skin, lingering when he found a sensitive spot until she wiggled and thrust up with impatience.
His hand obligingly palmed her breast then honed in with unerring certainty, squeezing her nipple beneath the bra, as his mouth returned to hers, hungry now, hungry and possessive.
He lifted his head but kept her centered against his obvious erection. “I want you,” he said, his voice husky. “And it doesn’t matter how many classes you skip. Come home with me, Megan.”
“I have to feed my horses first.” She gave a throaty sigh as his thumb brushed her nipple. “And I have to hide from Lydia.”
“We’re not going to sneak around.” He dipped his head, his breath warm and insistent. “Just pack your bag and move in.”
Move in? She shook her head but it was tough to rationalize under the ministrations of that persuasive mouth, the erotic way his hand stroked her breast. She sucked in a quivery sigh, her mind and body turning pliable from his touch.
“I think Lydia would make my life miserable if I did that,” she managed. “Don’t you?”
His hand lowered an inch, settling over her ribs, and she almost groaned with disappointment.
“I’ll look after you,” he said. “And Garrett’s a good friend.”
“But I still don’t think people should see us together. Not even Garrett.” A sense of unease filled her and she glanced over her shoulder, certain she heard the shuffle of feet. “I need to feed Jake and Rambo, and wash some clothes. Maybe I’ll come over later.”
“Later?”
“When it’s dark,” she said.
He lowered his arms and eased back, leaving an emptiness where his body had been. “The parts for my car arrived so I won’t be home when it’s dark. I was hoping you’d drive into town with me and have dinner.”
She hesitated far too long for such an astute man.
“Never mind then,” he said, his voice clipped. “I’ll see you tomorrow. We’ll do some gate work.”
“Oh, I forgot.” Her words came in a rush. “Ramon is letting me join his class tomorrow. He says I’m ready.”
Scott nodded but his jaw looked like granite. “Congratulations,” he said.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
“Why are you drinking rum with me,” Garrett asked, “when you could be doing more pleasurable things with the school hottie?”
Scott scowled but Garrett only chuckled and propped his feet on the coffee table. “I had my eye on her, you know,” he admitted. “As usual, the women prefer you.”
Scott’s frown deepened. The idea of Garrett with Megan was irritating. “Is that why your wife left? You were dipping into the student body?”
Garrett reached over and sloshed more rum into his glass. “I’ve always had a hard time resisting temptation,” he said, totally unabashed. “But there were other factors too. I love my life here, Lord of the Manor, so to speak.”
“Lords don’t usually have their dog’s legs bashed in.”
“No.” Garrett gave a negligible shrug. “And once in a while we get a dangerous student like Joey Collins.”
“Is he ganged up?”
Garrett nodded. “He was working with a group out of L.A.”
“Was?”
“Is. So tell me where’s the luscious Megan tonight?” Garrett asked. “I need to thank her for helping with Rex.”
Scott shrugged and grabbed the remote. He pointed it at the huge plasma TV then tossed it aside in frustration. Eleven o’clock. Megan would be in bed. She might have been in his bed if he hadn’t been so pissed, but it rankled she thought he wouldn’t protect her from Lydia.
And he also had the feeling she’d been reaching for an excuse. He didn’t expect women to fall all over him, but dammit, they were usually more eager than Megan. Something was holding her back.
“Do you have some sort of rule that instructors can’t date students?” He turned to Garrett. “If so, I want it changed.”
“All right.” Garrett gave another of his irritating shrugs. “Tomorrow I’ll announce that students have to bang their instructors.”
“Don’t be an asshole,” Scott said. “Or I’ll quit.”
“You’ve never quit anything in your life.” Garrett twirled his glass, studying the melting ice. “But I’ve been advised that everything will be renewed now, so maybe you should go. This was all your battle-ax of a secretary’s idea anyway. There’s no pressing reason to stay.”
Scott rubbed his temple, absorbing Garrett’s words. He didn’t have a headache, not yet, just a nagging sense he was missing something.
“Belinda’s my assistant, not a secretary,” he said. “And we have to find that punk who hurt your dog. That’s the big reason I can’t go.”
Garrett laughed.
***
Megan flipped through Joey’s magazine, staring blankly at ads of racing studs, trucks and farm equipment. The usual stuff. Any hope he’d written a Mexican address or name in the margins was quickly dashed. If there was a clue to his whereabouts in these pages, she didn’t see it.
Tami sprawled on her bed, commenting with enthusiastic detail about each of her new phone’s functions. Megan closed the magazine, deciding it was more fun to listen than to analyze Joey’s reading material.
“Hey, look. I googled the school and I can see everything.” Tami reached for another piece of chocolate without taking her eyes off the screen. “The track looks small from an aerial shot but when you’re galloping and your legs turn to jelly, it feels like a marathon.”
“Garrett sure has a big house,” she added, almost in the same breath. “And the villa next to him is pretty nice too. There’s even a tennis court.”
Megan padded across the room and plunked down beside Tami. Garrett’s pool looked immense, a kidney-shape of blue. She recognized the front driveway where Rex had been brutalized and then Scott’s villa with its own hot tub and pool.
“Who lives in those two smaller units on the other side?” she asked.
Tami pointed at the screen. “Ramon is in that one. I remember Miguel complaining it didn’t have a pool.” She snickered. “Poor Lydia has the tiniest one, stuck way off in the trees. Serves her right for being such a bitch.”
Megan leaned forward, craning to see. Judging from the size of the villas, Ramon had more status than Lydia. And of course, so did Scott, although that was probably because of his friendship with Garrett.
“Can you google Scott?”
“I already have,” Tami said. “I checked out the Taylor Investigative Agency too.”
“Taylor Investigative Agency? That’s the name of his company?”
“Yeah. Remember when Garrett introduced him on the first day.”
“No. I missed that class.” Megan edged sideways, her eyes glued to Tami’s phone. Scott had mentioned working in L.A., but she hadn’t asked details. Hadn’t wanted to spark any return questions about why she’d left a thriving jewelry business to attend jockey school. But a private investigator? This was wonderful.
“What kind of cases does he do?” She strained to read the tiny writing. “Things like missing persons?”
“Says here fraud, asset searches, child custody, protective services,” Tami said. “Boring stuff. And there are no good pictures. Do you want to see the Baja Tinda’s pool? The diving board is so high—”
“Wait, Tami. Please. May I see your phone for a sec?”
“See. It’s cool, isn’t it?” Tami passed it over with a satisfied smile. “Way better than my old one. I can’t believe Miguel gave it to me.”
Megan thumbed down the screen, engrossed in the material. There was plenty to read—Scott had been an L.A. cop with numerous citations, including a medal of valor, but had switched to private practice. Some rough stuff too. She followed a recent link, skimming quickly.