Racetrack Romance BOX SET (Books 1-3) (116 page)

She pulled out a chair and sat, trying to ignore the reek of stale air and sweaty socks. “No, thanks. I just wondered how Stephanie’s doing. How you’re doing…if there’s anything I, or Martha, can do to help.”

He didn’t speak. Just lifted the glass to his mouth and swallowed. She glanced at the counter. No mix, no ice. Only a bottle of rum on the vinyl-topped table.

She turned back to Slim. “Does Stephanie need surgery?”

“Yup.” Slim grabbed the bottle and splashed more rum into his glass. He’d stopped staring at her, and there was a definite glassiness in his eyes.

“Will she be able to go home soon?” she asked.

“Yup.”

The cat wandered under Becky’s chair. She reached down and stroked its back, worrying about Slim. Lines bracketed his mouth, and it looked like he’d aged ten years. Clearly he was hurting.

“Maybe I’ll have a little drink with you,” she said.

He rose and clumsily grabbed a glass, splashed in some rum, then shoved it across the table. “To Stephanie.” He raised his glass.

Two words—an improvement, she thought, as they shared a toast. She tried not to wrinkle her nose, but straight rum was not her usual drink. She cradled the glass between her hands, mirroring Slim, hoping he wouldn’t notice she’d barely wet her lips.

“I didn’t think you girls would ride so fast,” he muttered. “Told you not to.”

“It wasn’t your fault. She was teaching me to gallop.”

“I didn’t want anyone to be hurt, not like my Jill. That’s gotta get to the old lady.”

“It’s okay. Martha’s not upset. She knows Stephanie will be back.” Becky took a sip of the strong rum.

His mouth twisted into a caricature of a smile. “Malcolm was quite a man, you know. Was going to give me half of his next good mare.”

Becky’s hands tightened around her glass. “To make up for Lyric?” she asked softly.

Slim stared at some point above her head as a ticking clock marked the time. She glanced around; there were some beautiful pencil sketches of horses on the fridge, but nothing else to account for his long silence.

“He wanted to be fair,” Slim finally said. “Was waiting for a good horse to replace Lyric. We were thinking of Echo but the old lady don’t know nothing about it. When I asked her, she brushed me off.” His throat moved convulsively. “I gotta look out for Jilly…you understand that, don’t you?”

Becky nodded.

“Not many jobs around but I got life insurance.” Slim’s glass jerked in his hand, dangerously close to spilling. “I can look after her without any scumbag’s help.” He slammed his glass on the table with such force, drops splattered the air.

Becky’s palms were slick with sweat, and she gripped the sides of her chair. Slim had a wild look, and the tiny hairs on her arms stood straight up. “I have to go now,” she said, “but I wonder if you’d give me Stephanie’s phone number?”

“You can’t leave yet.”

“I can’t?” Her voice gave an annoying squeak.

“Not until you finish your drink. I get pissed when people waste my good rum.”

She picked up her glass. “Understandable,” she said.

***

Dino shifted the bags of groceries to his left arm and tilted an empty flower pot, extracting Stephanie’s door key. Slim said she needed surgery but would be home tomorrow. If all went well, the cast would be off in six weeks. Six long weeks.

He walked into the kitchen, set the groceries on the table and unpacked the bags. He’d only been to her apartment once, wasn’t familiar with her cupboards but guessed she’d be in a tight spot. He encouraged his riders to carry insurance. Often though, there wasn’t enough cash at the end of a paycheck. Even with a policy, it took months to receive compensation.

He set the milk in the fridge, heavy with worry about employees and horses and ex-lovers. The deadline on the ranch loomed, and Echo simply had to win on Friday. The race wouldn’t be a walkover, but there were only two runners he was afraid of, and with a little racing luck…

He left some cash in an envelope by Stephanie’s phone, locked the door on the way out and checked his watch. Conrad’s was only thirty minutes away, and surveillance cameras were scheduled to be installed that afternoon—thanks to Becky for Martha’s speedy approval.

Becky had proven more of an ally than a pain, and he definitely enjoyed her company, her conversation, her smile. He was still ambivalent about the haircut though. Guys were sniffing around and he didn’t like it. Shane wasn’t helping matters either. She was just starting to gain some confidence, and the last thing she needed was a guy screwing her up.

It wouldn’t hurt to drop by Conrad’s and see how she was doing. She’d sounded upset about Stephanie’s fall although Slim had said she’d made a pretty awesome splint. He shook his head in bewilderment. Weird that it was Stephanie who’d been hurt. He was guiltily relieved it wasn’t Becky though—that would have knocked Martha off stride. She’d probably never have let Becky ride again.

He turned his truck and headed for Conrad’s estate. Drove into the back entrance, automatically checking the broodmare pasture where horses swished their tails and dozed contentedly beneath the trees. Parked by his guesthouse and walked to the barn. The hot walker was motionless, but an unfamiliar Ford truck was parked by the entrance. Fortunately, Slim’s vehicle wasn’t in sight.

He strode down the aisle and nodded at the man on the stepladder. “I’m Dino,” he said. “You putting a camera at each end?”

A second man patted a work order jutting from the pocket of his brown coveralls. “Yup, but I wanted to ask about the third camera—the covert one.”

“I want it covering stall nine.” Dino pointed at Echo’s stall.

“Sure. We’ll put the nanny cam right here. It’ll cover a couple stalls and have a separate feed to your computer. Is it okay to run that now? The order states we might have to come back and install another time.”

“No, this is perfect timing.” Dino glanced over his shoulder. Mid-afternoon, no one around except the mute horses. But a bad taste lingered in his mouth. Monitoring a man like Slim. Damn sad.

The technician on the ladder fiddled with a smoke detector. Plenty of people used monitors. But Slim would be livid, and understandably so, if he discovered its presence. Dino walked back to the man on the stepladder. “You can hide that thing pretty good, right?”

“No one will know unless you tell them,” the man said.

Dino nodded and wandered back to the front of the barn. Slim might look out his window and wonder about the strange truck. “How much longer?” he called.

“Twenty minutes.”

He grabbed a condition book and headed toward Slim’s house. Best to keep the man occupied rather than risk him walking over.

He rapped at the door and pushed it open, calling for Slim.

“In here,” Slim said.

Dino walked into the kitchen and paused, shocked to see Becky, even more shocked when she leaped from her chair and rushed to his side.

“Hi,” she said, her voice breathless.

“Hello, Becky.” He didn’t know why she grabbed his hand, but he certainly appreciated the warm reception. He glanced over her head, saw the bottle and two glasses and laughed. “You two drink like this every afternoon?”

Slim said nothing, so he hooked a chair with his boot and joined them at the table. Becky sank back down but hauled her chair so close her shoulder brushed his side. He draped his arm over the back of her chair and gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

“Stephanie’s going to be fine,” he said. “You and Slim took great care of her.”

She looked at him with big eyes then glanced warily at Slim who examined his hands.

Dino chuckled. “This must be your second bottle.” Slim’s eyes were glassy. Becky looked normal but was certainly much friendlier than usual. Not that he was complaining. He shifted his arm off the back of her chair and laid it over her shoulders. Slim didn’t seem inclined to pour him a drink, so he picked up Becky’s glass and raised a questioning eyebrow. “May I?” he asked.

“Go ahead,” she said, peeking at Slim. “Good rum shouldn’t be wasted.”

The man was oblivious. Neither hostile nor friendly but definitely pickled. Clearly, there was little danger he’d notice the workmen in the barn. Dino relaxed, leaned back in his chair, and sipped Becky’s rum. Pretty good rum actually. “Think I’ll get my own glass.”

He rose from the table and opened a cupboard. Coffee, sugar, flour. Second cupboard was full of canned beans and cat food. The third cupboard contained a stack of mismatched glasses. He poured himself a generous shot, sat down and stretched his arm back over Becky’s shoulders.

“Let’s go for a ride,” she said, eying the back door with obvious longing.

“If you really want to, but haven’t you ridden enough for one day?” Besides, he liked her attention, her warm curves, the way she pressed into his side. “Be good if we stayed here a bit longer,” he added, thinking of the nanny cam. “I brought some race entries to review with Slim.”

“She doesn’t like my rum.” Slim finally spoke, his voice slurred. “She’s too good to have a little drink with me.”

From the looks of Slim, he’d had more than a little drink, but Dino’s shoulders stiffened. She never liked to hurt anyone’s feelings. “I think she prefers wine, don’t you, Becky?”

“Yes.” She nodded quickly. “But this rum is good too.” She looked at Slim with such an anxious expression, Dino’s heart kicked. Obviously Steph’s fall had been tough on all of them. It was nice to have a little drink together. Christ, he hated when people got hurt.

He stroked her cheek with a finger. “Don’t worry. Stephanie’s going to be fine. Be riding again by mid-summer. There’s some wine at my place. Want me get it?”

“I got wine. Bottom cupboard.” Slim tilted his glass and took another long swig. Wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Ted left it.”

Dino stiffened and his eyes met Becky’s. He slowly rose, found a half bottle of Claret and poured her a glass. “You drink with Ted now, Slim?” he asked, careful to keep his voice casual.

“Never again.” Slim burped. “But a man has to do right by his daughter.”

Dino glanced back at Becky, who shrugged and took a fortifying sip of wine. No wonder she’d been glad when he’d walked through the door. Slim reeked of rum and resentment and something else, something darker. Plus, the asshole had lied. “Thought you didn’t know Ted?” Dino leaned forward, carefully studying Slim’s expression.

“Won’t be seeing him anymore. Enough is enough.” Slim yanked his hat lower. “When I saw Stephanie...”

“Maybe you better tell me about the accident, Becky,” Dino said, keeping his gaze pinned on Slim.

“Stephanie was teaching me to gallop,” she said. “I wanted to use her exercise saddle so we switched. Everything was going great. Lyric was really moving.”

Dino glanced sideways, temporarily distracted by the way her mouth curved. God, she was sweet. Relaxed too, no longer poised for flight as she spoke about riding.

She caught his grin and smiled back. “I plan to beat you next time we ride.”

“I may have my own plans,” he said softly.

She rolled her eyes and glanced across the table at Slim. “Then the stirrup broke and Stephanie fell. Slim came with the truck, and I took the horses home. That was it.”

“The stirrup leather broke?” He frowned. Slim hadn’t said that, hadn’t mentioned it. Conrad tack was top quality and always well maintained. Grooms cleaned it every day. Were taught to watch for leather wear. “Where is it now?”

“I used it to support Stephanie’s arm,” Becky said. “It’s probably at the hospital.”

“I’ll pick it up,” Slim said.

“No,” Dino snapped. “I’ll do that.” He swallowed, sickened by his suspicions, and any guilt about a hidden camera disappeared. “Let’s get out of here, Becky,” he said, shoving his chair back. “I’ll supervise the night feeding, Slim. Sober up. We’ll continue this conversation tomorrow.”

Becky rose, placed their glasses in the sink and walked to the back door.

Dino didn’t speak until they were twenty yards from the house. “How long were you in there?” He glanced at the barn. The service truck was gone, the parking lot deserted. “And where’s your car?”

“It’s parked behind the barn. I was only with Slim half an hour, but it seemed like an eternity.” She looked up at him, her eyes candid. “I was very glad to see you today.”

“I’m always glad to see you.” He slipped his arm around her hip.

She paused for a long moment, clearly preoccupied. “I’d just watched Jill’s last race,” she said, “and it was horrible. I wanted to find out about Stephanie, but he asked me to have a drink with him. He seemed…really upset.”

Dino steered her to his guesthouse, his voice hardening. “I want to know everything Slim said.” He’d call the hospital and make sure he personally examined that piece of leather. It was inconceivable Slim would want to hurt Becky, but she and Steph had switched saddles. A vein throbbed in his forehead as he swung open the door. “You stay away from Slim,” he added gruffly. “And I don’t want you riding anymore unless I’m with you.”

She stepped into the house and paused, her eyes widening. “I know what you’re thinking. But I can’t believe Slim hates me that much.”

He closed the door with a decisive click. “I don’t think he hates you either. But something’s going on. And despite Martha’s loyalty, I can’t let him work here any longer. I’ll look after both places,” he added. “Come in the afternoon, sleep here. Race days will be tough but I don’t want Slim around you. Or the horses.”

“I’m not sure how he’ll react.” She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, her dark lashes fanning her cheeks. “Losing his job. His house. And he has Jill to look after. Did you know Malcolm planned to give him half of Lyric? But she wasn’t accepted for breeding so the deal fell through. They were considering Echo as the replacement, but Malcolm died before it happened.”

“That’s
his
story.” Dino shrugged. By all accounts, Malcolm was a generous man but to give up half of a valuable mare seemed ludicrous.

“No, it’s true. At least the part about Lyric. I saw papers in the study. Malcolm thought she tripped too much and then that race...I’m going to show Malcolm’s note to Martha. Ask her to make it right.” Becky’s voice quavered. “I never thought about how dangerous it was to be a jockey. Jill smiled when she got on Lyric. Then she went down, and nothing was ever the same again. It wasn’t the fall. It was the horses behind her. I’m glad you’re a trainer, not a rider.”