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The sun had fully risen, spotlighting the shedrow along with Ana’s growing agitation. Now she was the one watching the road. She paced back and forth, checking over her shoulder and wringing her hands.
“It’s eight thirty! Gary should have been here by now. Chico is missing his chance to get out on the track.”
Nikki gave a troubled nod, knowing she could do little to calm Ana. Chico was saddled and tied in the stall, still waiting for his jockey. Most of the other horses in the shedrow had already returned from their morning gallop and had been bathed and cooled.
Training hours closed soon; gates opened to the public at eleven and Chico’s race was at three. It wouldn’t be good to keep him cooped up. He needed to stretch his legs. And even though Chico had raced here before, it was always wise to familiarize a horse with his surroundings.
“Maybe Jorge could take him out,” Nikki said.
“That would be better than nothing,” Ana said. “But Chico needs his jockey. They have to get reacquainted before the race.”
“Is Gary usually late?” Nikki asked, wondering if Durant had warned the jockey off but loath to voice her suspicions.
“No, he’s usually reliable,” Ana muttered, her steps slowing at the sound of an approaching vehicle. “Probably that’s him.”
A worker rounded the corner, pedaling a bicycle. Then a white Jeep filled the narrow road. Clearly not the jockey, judging by Ana’s disappointed sigh. And then Nikki noted the track logo emblazoned on the vehicle door, recognized Rick’s face behind the wheel.
He unfolded from the driver’s seat, his expression too grim to be bearing good news. He strode past Nikki, his attention on Ana.
“Are you Ana Gonzalez?” he asked. “The trainer on record for Chico’s Kid?”
He waited for her nod before continuing. “I’m sorry to advise that Gary Lopez was in a car accident this morning. He’s off all his mounts and won’t be able to ride your horse.”
Ana clutched at her throat, her eyes widening. “He’ll be okay?”
“Yes. The airbag saved him. But he’ll be in the hospital for a while.”
Rick swung around, looking even bigger than he had last night. “Nikki Drake,” he said, enunciating her name loud and crisp. “Please come with me.”
Nikki swallowed. Damn, he was efficient. Why wasn’t he sleeping? And how had he figured out her identity so quickly? Then she remembered the picture he’d snapped with his phone. He must have used a face-matching program.
She peeked at Ana who looked similarly alarmed, obviously noting that he had called Nikki by her real name.
“Tie your dog,” Rick said. “And walk to my vehicle. Now.” He didn’t say “please” again.
She stooped and tied Gunner to the post. “Stay,” she said, her thoughts whirling.
Rick remained five steps behind, herding her toward his Jeep. She sensed his eyes boring into her back, could feel his radiating anger. But she held her head high and slid into the passenger’s seat before he could direct her to sit in the back.
He folded his big body behind the wheel then leveled her with a look that rivaled Justin’s iciest cop glare.
“You lied to me,” he said. “About your PI license and your role. Not only that, I learned your dog attacked a groom at the Durant stable. Totally unprovoked. Yet you brought him here. To my track!”
Not his track, she thought. But that wasn’t the issue. And she knew she had to stay calm, lay out the facts.
“It wasn’t unprovoked,” she said. “Gunner was protecting Ana and Jorge. And the man wasn’t a groom. He was one of Durant’s thugs, part of the same group that attacked me last night.”
Rick raised a silencing hand.
“Maybe so,” he said. “But the police down there want to talk to you. You can straighten it out with them.”
“That won’t work, considering they’re in Durant’s pocket.”
“Not my jurisdiction. But using false ID to gain track admission is. You also misrepresented your dog as a support animal. And PTSD isn’t a joke. Now tell me, what astronomical fee are you charging Ana?”
“She isn’t paying me anything. Like I told you last night, she just needed a little help.”
“You told me many things last night, most of which were lies.”
“My PTSD is real,” Nikki said. “And I do need Gunner for support.”
Rick studied her face then gave a curt nod. “I’ll give you that. But I still don’t believe your questionable protection services are free. Or effective. As I recall, you needed my help last night.”
His belittling tone made her flush. Yes, she’d needed help last night but she certainly didn’t need his snide reminder. Every little detail was seared in her brain: the sound of Durant’s belt buckle, the stink of his cologne, her horrifying helplessness.
“There was no fee involved,” she said stiffly. “I just wanted to help Ana.”
“So she asked for your assistance?”
“No, I was jogging by the Durant property and Gunner found a bone.”
“Something like this?” He reached behind the seat, scooped up something and plopped it on her lap.
The horse skull. She jerked away, recoiling at the empty eye sockets staring back at her. Rick must have fished it out of the garbage bin. Clearly the man didn’t sleep. And the fact that he was so thorough was unexpected. She’d expect this type of follow-up from a detective like Justin, not from a random security guy at a modest racetrack.
She gathered her composure, accepting he wouldn’t be satisfied with anything less than the truth. Best to explain the situation and why it was so important for Chico to race.
“Actually the other bone wasn’t like this skull,” she said. “In fact it was a human arm, still fleshed and showing traces of lye.”
“Did you notify the police?”
“Of course. That’s why I was on Durant’s property. They told me to meet them there.”
“Yet you felt you had to get involved?”
“They weren’t prepared to do anything. And Ana was worried Durant would hurt Chico.”
“So you assumed the horse was in danger. And that you could handle it better than the police. Or my security.”
“Chico is in danger. In fact this skull was hanging in his stall when we arrived—a threat your questionable security didn’t prevent.”
Remorse flickered across his face and she instantly regretted her comment. Security here was excellent. She’d retaliated because of his dig at her competence.
“The fact that we couldn’t prevent it is precisely the problem,” he said, his clipped speech showing she’d hit a tender spot. “You led this bone trail here. And expect us to keep Ana and the horse safe. On a day when we’ll have over five thousand spectators. Not a risk I’m willing to take.”
He clamped his hands over the wheel, his voice as tight as his grip. “So you. That horse. And all the stable’s connections need to leave. Now.”
She slumped in the seat, paralyzed with dismay. She shouldn’t have been so honest. And chasing that intruder last night had been a mistake, spurred by anger at what she’d believed was an attempt to poison Gunner. Durant had known how to push her buttons.
“Please let Chico race,” she said. “It was my idea to use Gloria’s ID and to stay with him on the backside. Ana had nothing to do with it. She won’t talk much about the bones or Durant’s abuse, but the man’s a rapist and I suspect he’s also a murderer. She genuinely needed help.”
“Your intentions might have been good,” Rick said. “But that horse has to go. It’s too risky. My security can’t handle Durant.”
“But he can’t be allowed to get away with this.”
“I agree,” Rick said. “But it’s not the track’s job.”
“So you stake out your local piece of community and keep that safe? You don’t care about anyone else?”
“Bingo.” He gave a sardonic smile. “My family lives here so I’m doubly motivated to keep out the murderers.”
That explained his zealousness. She’d already gathered he was a dedicated family man and genuinely cared about the track community. But that didn’t help Ana.
“So you accept Durant is dangerous,” she said, frustration barbing her voice. “Yet you’re wrecking Ana’s chance to own Chico. After all she’s endured.”
“My sympathies are with any exploited workers. But lives are more important. For everyone’s safety, that horse has to go. He can come back and race another time.”
That wouldn’t happen, she thought bleakly. Durant would make sure Chico was in no shape to run again. It could be a foot problem, cut ligaments, or even a deliberate blinding. Something would happen, something horrible. Durant knew how much Ana loved the horse and would want to cause maximum pain.
“Chico has to race today,” she said. “It’s their last chance.”
“No. The horse is leaving.”
His tone didn’t leave much room for argument. But Justin had taught her a lot about California racing, and she knew security wasn’t in charge of race decisions.
She squared her shoulders. “Then I’ll report you to the Race Board,” she said. “I wonder what reason you’ll give them for suspending Chico.”
Rick didn’t hesitate. “Presenting false creds. Misrepresenting a service dog. Having a dangerous animal off leash. I could make up more. But there’s no need. The Board doesn’t question my decisions.” This time his smile was genuine, and also infuriating.
“But those infractions are on me! Not Ana. I’ll take my dog and go. Just let Chico run.”
“I can’t have that horse here. Based on what you told me, Durant is dangerous and unpredictable. If it’s any consolation, Chico doesn’t have much chance of winning. His odds went up even higher after he lost his jockey to a hit and run.” Rick’s voice hardened. “And his jock, by the way, is a good friend of mine.”
“More reason not to let Durant get away with this.”
“I didn’t say he’d get away with it.”
She brightened, alerted by the promise in his voice. “Really? What are you going to do?”
“Gather evidence, turn it over to the proper authorities. Let them stop him.”
“What if there’s no evidence?”
“I’ll find something,” he said.
She tilted her head, trying to read his expression, to understand the meaning behind his words. But he was staring straight ahead and she couldn’t see his eyes, only his uncompromising jaw. And the knowledge hit her like a sledge hammer. She’d been wrong about him. Rick wasn’t a stickler for the rules; he was someone who preferred to make them. And he was happy to bend them—if and when it suited his purpose.
Unfortunately, his purpose today was to keep the track trouble-free.
She slowly set the skull on the floor. There was nothing left to say. Allowing Chico to stay wouldn’t further Rick’s goal. In his position, she’d probably do the same thing. And maybe he would make life tough for Durant. But that wouldn’t be in time to help Ana.
“How long do we have to pack up?” she asked.
“An hour. I’ll advise security to let Jorge bring the trailer in so he won’t have to wait in line.”
“How kind of you,” she said. But it wasn’t in her nature to give up and she couldn’t resist one last appeal. “Can’t Chico stay and race? Remember, Durant hurt your friend. Gary could have been killed in that car accident. The best revenge would be if Chico won—”
“We’re finished talking.” He slapped a business card on the dashboard. “Have Ana call this number. They’ll find her and Jorge a safe place to stay. Help them find new jobs.”
“Fine,” Nikki said, hating the quaver in her voice. “But she’ll lose Chico. And that horse means everything to her.”
“That’s unfortunate. But Gary was blindsided by a truck this morning. You were nearly raped last night. Could have been killed. No one else is going to get hurt over this. Not on my watch. And nothing is changing my mind.”
He pushed open the door, his jaw as hard as granite and just as immovable. “Let’s go,” he said.
She stepped out of the Jeep and trudged toward the shedrow, shooting him dark looks that he completely ignored. And maybe Chico had no realistic chance of winning—especially without his regular jockey—but to deny him the chance of trying was cold-hearted. She rolled and unrolled her fists, working up the courage to tell Ana.
Maybe Rick intended to break the news. He carried an officious pink pad; it looked like the form had already been filled out. Maybe he’d wordlessly pass it to Ana. Or perhaps he’d nail the notice on the stall door. Nikki had no idea of the proper procedure, and she now knew he didn’t always care about following it.
She trailed him toward Chico’s stall. However, the door was open; both Ana and the horse were gone. And the idea of Rick chasing after a fleet-footed Ana, trying to serve notice, would have made her laugh if the situation weren’t so grim. Maybe he wouldn’t be able to find her. Ana had proven to have a survivor’s sense of when it was wise to hide.
Gunner wasn’t at all agitated. He sat where she’d tied him and though he wagged his tail at her approach, his attention returned to a spot on her left. She followed his gaze and quickly spotted Chico.
Ana held the horse by the adjacent shedrow, behind a mechanical hot walker. Chico pawed the ground, saddled and ready to go, unaware his only exercise would be to walk onto the trailer. Ana was talking to a striking dark-haired woman, just as unaware that Rick was about to deliver devastating news.
“Just trot him around once,” Ana said loudly as she boosted the petite woman onto Chico’s back. “Thanks for coming at such short notice.”
“No problem. I’m always happy to ride a quality horse.” The woman gave a gracious nod then turned in Nikki’s direction and flashed a beautiful smile. A smile with a hint of an apology.
Ana quickly turned Chico and led the horse and rider toward the track.
Nikki felt Rick’s stillness, and something else. Consternation. It was then that she understood the rider’s expression. The woman hadn’t been smiling at Nikki. She’d been looking past her. Toward Rick.
“Who’s the rider?” she asked.
“Eve,” he said. “My wife.”
