HORSES AND HEROIN (Romantic Mystery) (18 page)

The search for Robbie Stevens finally ended last night when authorities trapped his kidnappers in a remote section of Wheeler Ridge. Robbie had been celebrating his third birthday and on his way to Disneyland when he was abducted from his parents’ limo. The family had engaged private investigative services after rumored dissatisfaction with the FBI.

Reports of last night’s daring raid are still scanty. However, it is believed there were several fatalities, and two of the rescuers are in serious condition. John and Mary Stevens appeared briefly on camera to thank the public for their support, but both were visibly shaken in the wake of the shootout. “Scott Taylor is our son’s guardian angel,” Mary Stevens said. “He pushed Robbie to the ground and shielded him from the gunfire. I pray Mr. Taylor recovers.”

Megan’s breath caught. She remembered the newscasts, the heroic agent who had taken a bullet to save a child’s life. Not an FBI agent, but Scott. Thank God he’d been able to bring that frightened little boy home. She swiped the corner of her eye, fighting the lump that filled her throat.

Tami tugged the phone back and resumed her scrolling, oblivious to Megan’s emotion. “Let’s look at the Baja Tinda now. The diving board is amazing.”

Megan blew out a shaky breath. No wonder she’d been instantly attracted to Scott. No wonder he was the school’s golden boy. He was a good man. He found people. He rescued them.

She clasped her hands in front of her chest and for the first time since coming to the school, she was buoyed with hope. Tomorrow she’d hire him.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Megan followed Tami into the classroom, smiling when she saw Eve already seated in the front row. “You’re early too,” she said, grabbing the adjacent seat.

Eve grimaced. “Ramon was wild about me missing his riding lesson yesterday. He’d flip if he discovered I’d also missed the addictions class.” She shot a wary look at Tami who was engrossed with texting. Her voice lowered. “Did you get in much trouble?”

“A little,” Megan said. “But it’ll be okay.” At least she hoped so. Scott hadn’t been happy yesterday. Her gaze drifted to the side door, willing him to appear. This morning she would behave like a model student, take copious notes and nod respectfully at everything he said.

And afterwards she’d explain the real reason why she didn’t want to draw unnecessary attention from school staff, then ask him to find her brother. His caliber of agency probably charged substantial fees, but he was obviously the best and she wanted him.

In more ways than one.

She blocked her thoughts, determined to focus on Scott, the professional. “I have an idea about finding Joey,” she whispered to Eve.

“Give Ramon and Lydia a lie detector test.” Eve sounded absolutely serious.

Tami shot them a warning scowl. “I don’t want you two beside me if you’re going to talk and get me in trouble,” she said. “This is my favorite class.”

“We’ll be quiet as soon as he walks in,” Megan said, fingering her pen. “Promise.”

“Which means right now.” Tami elbowed her in the ribs as the door clicked open. Scott strode to the front of the room. Megan gave him a welcoming smile, but his businesslike gaze covered every student.

“Good morning,” he said, without a trace of a smile.

Wow, he looked surly. He didn’t have his usual jacket on either, just worn Levis and a faded shirt that picked up the gray in his eyes. He didn’t need clothes to project power though. The room was so quiet she could hear Peter breathing two rows back.

Every female seemed to watch intently as Scott turned and walked to the whiteboard. Were they really listening or just admiring his body, the way the denim tightened around his butt? When he turned, Tami’s head jerked and Megan knew at least one person had been looking below the belt.

Not me though. She kept her gaze carefully focused on his face, trying to be the picture of an attentive student. He hadn’t shaved this morning and the dark stubble was rather intimidating. Rough…kind of sexy. She pressed a finger to her lips, imagining the feel.

The sound of pens on paper yanked back her attention. Oh damn, everyone was writing. She hadn’t absorbed a word.

She ducked her head and hastily scribbled her name. Couldn’t think of anything else so wrote it again. At least she was writing. She doubted Scott would be able to read upside down. On the other hand, he was multi-talented.

She swallowed. It had been a mistake to sit so close. She felt like a groupie and it was impossible to concentrate, not with him only a few feet away. He looked like a cop today, an undercover cop with a sexy voice and a sexier body. Her cheeks turned hot. She shifted in her seat, trying to concentrate on his words.

“Some states have mandatory breathalyzers,” he said. “Not only jockeys can be tested but also grooms who lead a horse to the paddock. And exercise riders. You may be asked to provide urine. Be prepared for random screening and hair follicle testing.” His gaze seemed to settle on her and she pressed back, her shoulder blades digging into the hard chair.

Why was he staring? She hadn’t used drugs in years. Not even a joint.

“For most of you, it will be a constant battle to maintain riding weight,” he went on. “Learn your triggers so you can deal with them. Substance abuse can start with a simple weight loss drug and continue because of emotional dependency.”

She put down her pen and crossed her arms. Her face felt stiff. Of course, none of this stuff applied to her. She’d never had much trouble with her weight, and emotional dependency was an overused expression. They’d used that phrase in every stage of her ten-step counseling. She was tired of it. Her dad leaving hadn’t been that big a deal. It hadn’t affected her. Her mom was good, she was good, Joey…

Joey wasn’t so good.

She realizing she’d stopped breathing and sucked in an achy gulp of air. But persistent voices whispered that her brother was dead. She sensed it in every fiber of her being, the way a weight cramped her chest, how she always thought of him in the past tense. Even his girlfriend had lost hope.

Her eyes itched. She glanced frantically at the exit. The air was stifling, almost impossible to breathe. All these people around. She didn’t want them to see her cry. She had to get out, now, but it was twenty endless feet to the door.

And she couldn’t walk out on Scott. Not a second time. Her fists clenched and she blinked furiously, afraid if she looked at Eve her grief would erupt. For a moment, Scott’s gaze held hers. She jerked her head away, feigning a cough, and swiped furiously at the corners of her eyes.

“We’ll quit a few minutes early today,” Scott said.

She rose so fast, her pen and paper slid to the floor. She bent down, but her eyes were too blurry to see the pen.

“Here it is,” Eve said, reaching under Megan’s chair. “Want to grab a coffee before our riding lesson? This was a short lecture so we have extra time.”

Megan turned her head, still blinking. She really wanted to bolt out the door. Curl up in a private spot and grieve. Alone. However, Eve sounded so sad, so needy, and was obviously hurting too.

“Sure.” Megan kept her head bent as she pretended to reorganize her notes. “Want to come with us, Tami?”

“No, thanks,” Tami said, scooting toward the door. “I just texted Miguel. We’re meeting at the jock barn. See you later.”

Megan glanced toward Scott but he was already surrounded by a group of eager students, all females. Besides, she had to escape. She turned and hurried for fresh air, conscious of Eve at her heels.

She stepped from the building. The bright morning sun slammed her face and she rubbed her eyes

“Are you okay?” Eve asked.

“Yeah, the sun’s so bright. I just need some air.”

Eve slipped her hand around Megan’s wrist and gave a quick squeeze. “It’s hard not to think of him,” she whispered. “Sometimes it hits out of the blue.” Her quiet empathy made Megan’s eyes prick again.

“Joey wasn’t doing drugs,” Eve added, her voice low. “You have to believe that. He had a single room so I was with him almost every minute. He was riding great too. Top of the class. We were on the list to ride at Santa Anita. And then Ramon took him to Mexico.

“I wish he hadn’t gone,” Eve continued, her voice cracking. “The trailer left so fast he didn’t take his helmet. I never even said good bye.”

This time it was Megan who squeezed Eve’s hand. Usually Megan liked to deal with her pain in private—she hadn’t had many close friends since her brush with the courts—but it helped to share this crushing sorrow. And soon they’d have Scott’s help.

She shot a cautious glance over Eve’s shoulder. Peter sauntered toward the barns, walking alongside a petite brunette, but he was well out of earshot.

“I’m going to hire Scott,” Megan whispered, dipping her head closer to Eve. “Maybe he can find out what really happened.”

Eve frowned. “Is that wise? You realize he’s a good friend of Garrett’s?”

“Yes. But he’s not a good friend of Lydia’s. Or Ramon.”

“But they all work for the school,” Eve said. “And Garrett owns the school. Scott’s allegiance will be to Garrett.”

“I know.” Megan tugged at her lip. “I keep playing that out in my head. But I’m kind of seeing Scott and it would be nice to be honest. He doesn’t understand—”

“Understand? You mean it would be easier for your relationship if you told him?”

Megan nodded, remembering his shuttered expression in the cowshed. “A lot easier,” she said.

“Sounds like you’re worrying about yourself, not Joey.” Eve stepped back and yanked open the cafeteria door. “I saw you riding with him yesterday. You looked happy. Not exactly the picture of a grieving sister. And what’s your mother doing to help? Both of you seem to believe this drug bullshit.”

Megan charged forward. “Listen.” She flattened her palm against the door, preventing it from opening. “I left my business to come here so lay off. I’m sorry you lost a boyfriend you dated for seven whole weeks, but my mother lost her son. So don’t you say another word about her. And Joey did have a drug history.”

“I apologize,” Eve said, but her voice was flat and she didn’t sound very apologetic. “But the drug accusations are crazy. Surely you don’t believe that stuff?”

“The police and school were very convincing.” Megan lowered her hand from the door. Of course, she didn’t swallow the official line, but Eve’s statement about her feelings for Scott hurt. And there was a bite of truth to it. She was getting too close, falling too fast. She hadn’t come here to indulge in a superficial affair.

“I’m sorry for what I said.” Eve gave a tight smile. “I’ve felt alone in all this. Maybe it’s Lydia who has the drug problem. Her moods change every hour.”

“Maybe we should sneak over there,” Megan said. “Check out her villa.”

“Maybe we should,” Eve said, and this time her smile was genuine. “And if we’re brave enough, we could check Ramon’s place too. Or you could do it, while he teaches my riding class.”

“I’m in his class too. Starting today.” Megan stepped back and pulled open the cafeteria door.

“Glad you finally graduated from the field,” Eve said, heading to the coffee dispenser. “But it’s bad timing. I’m not sure of his schedule other than he teaches in the morning. Oh, good,” she added, glancing around the room. “It’s quiet here. We can talk.”

Except for a few students straggling in from Scott’s class, the cafeteria was deserted. They poured their coffee and grabbed a table in a secluded corner.

“I know Ramon goes to the cowshed at suppertime.” Megan inched her chair closer to Eve, keeping her voice low. “Looks like he’s going to start baling too, so he could be busy with that.”

“Joey helped modify the baler the last week he was here,” Eve said. “Are they adjusting it again? That could take hours, give us more time.”

Megan nodded and fiddled with her cup, but the idea of sneaking into Ramon’s villa without knowing his routine made her stomach lurch. And Miguel also stayed there so that meant two schedules needed to be checked.

“Maybe we should do Lydia’s villa first,” Megan said. “She always eats in the cafeteria, so we’d have at least an hour. She’s not as scary as Ramon.”

“You really want to do this? Sneak in?” Eve leaned forward, her eyes big. “I was kind of joking. And what if she locks her door?”

Megan took a thoughtful sip of coffee. No one locked their doors in residence. However, Scott always locked his villa. Maybe because he had work papers inside or perhaps it was just PI habit.

“If Lydia locks her villa, then we don’t get in,” Megan said. “Do you want any milk?” Eve had barely touched her coffee. In fact, her face looked oddly white against her dark hair. It
was
scary thinking of sneaking into someone’s house. If caught, they’d both be kicked out. Worse, Eve’s career as a jockey would be finished.

“Look, don’t worry,” Megan added. “You don’t have to go in. You could stand guard—”

Eve’s nostrils flared. She pressed a hand over her mouth and bolted to the bathroom, almost toppling the chair in her haste.

Aw, damn. She was really scared. Little wonder. Eve had so much more to lose if she were caught. Megan straightened the chair, then walked to the bathroom door and gingerly pushed it open. Eve’s worn boots peeked out from below the stall door.

“I have a better idea,” Megan said. “You can just wait down the road. Call me if anyone comes. That’s safer anyway.”

The toilet flushed and Eve stepped out. “Whatever works,” she said, running the tap and rinsing her mouth. “I’m good with anything. And sorry for that crack about you and your mom. I’m just glad you’re here.”

Megan’s eyes narrowed. Clearly she’d jumped to the wrong conclusion. Eve wasn’t scared at all. In fact, the color in her cheeks had completely returned—it hadn’t been fear that sent her racing to the bathroom.

“You’re bulimic, aren’t you?” Megan asked. Her voice gentled and she blew out an empathetic sigh. “Maybe you should rethink your profession if it means flipping.”

Eve turned away, ripped off a piece of paper towel and dried her hands. She wadded the paper in a tight ball, turned and fired it into the garbage can. “Unfortunately it’s too late to rethink anything,” she said.