Chapter 9

 

Dorothy and I headed down the lane, looking at barn numbers as we went.

“I think it was barn number twenty-four.”

“You think?” she asked. “That’s the problem, you don’t know.”

“Well, I guess we’ll find out when we get there,” I said.

“It’s such a long walk,” she said.

Dorothy had on her good shoes, so I hoped the trek wouldn’t make her bunion act up. Why I hadn’t worn more comfortable shoes was beyond me. I kept wearing the wrong style to do this kind of work. Soon I would have a bunion too.

When Dorothy and I made it all the way to the end of the path we turned to the right. Thank goodness I spotted barn twenty-four right away.

“There it is,” I said. “Fingers crossed he’s there.”

“You’re going to need to cross your toes too. If you still can. By the look of those shoes, I doubt it. Why don’t you get some like mine?” Dorothy held her foot up and wiggled her foot around, showcasing her black orthopedic shoes.

I had to say they were looking pretty good right about now.

“You’d be better off to go barefoot than wear those things they call ‘shoes.’” Dorothy used her fingers to quote the last word.

“Never mind that right now. We have to find this guy,” I said.

I spotted a man working near one of the horses. He was shoveling hay into one of the stalls. As soon as we approached, he focused on us, eyeing us up and down. However, he didn’t ask if we needed any assistance. He looked as if he was hoping we’d go away.

“Is Brett here?” I asked, praying that I had the right barn.

His frown deepened. “No, he’s not here.”

The look on his face let me know that he wanted to know why we were asking and who we were.

He glanced over at Dorothy and back at me again.

“Do you know when he might be around?” I asked.

“I don’t know that he’ll be back today.”

“Do you know where I could find him?” I asked.

He had to give me something.

“You might want to check over at the track later today when they’re racing. He loves to bet on the ponies. He’d rather do that than to actually come and work.”

So this guy wasn’t happy with Brett.

“Thanks,” I said.

“By the way, do you know what Brett looks like?” Dorothy asked.

I almost fainted. If we asked for him shouldn’t we know what he looked like? Dorothy had the right idea though. How would we find him at the track if we didn’t know what he looked like?

“You don’t know what he looks like?” The man stared at us.

“You’ll have to forgive her. She’s forgetful.”

Dorothy glared at me.

The man pointed. “His picture is right there.”

Nailed to the wall in the barn was a group photo of the winner’s circle. Everyone stood by the horse.

“He’s the one with dark hair.”

I inched closer for a good look at the photo. As quickly as possible I tried to memorize that face. 

“Can I tell him who’s looking for him?” He eyed me up and down again.

There was no way I was going to tell him the truth.

“My name is Misty, and yeah, he owes me a gambling debt.” I tried to sound tough.

Dorothy made a noise beside me. The guy looked even more confused now.

I continued, “And tell him that he needs to pay up.”

He looked me up and down. “Yeah, I’ll tell him.”

Dorothy and I turned to walk away.

“Don’t you think that you would know where to find the guy if he was a gambler and owed you a debt? It wasn’t a good story that you gave that man.”

“Well, that’s neither here nor there,” I said.

I didn’t bother to look back to see if the man was still watching because I assumed he was. I just wanted to get out of there before my cover was blown.

Dorothy and I ran some errands before that afternoon heading back over to the racetrack. This time we parked a little bit on the opposite side of the parking lot so that we could enter into the actual track where the horses raced. The place was crowded, so I wasn’t sure exactly how we were going to hunt this man down. With such a large space and so many people there it seemed impossible to cover it all. How would we ever find him? Dorothy seemed a little bit in awe of all the action. She had her purse strapped around her neck so that no one could pickpocket her. We paid for our tickets and entered into the area.

“I guess we should go find the place where people are hanging out the most,” I said. “I don’t know, what do you think, Dorothy?”

I looked over and she wasn’t there. Panic set in. I looked around and she was nowhere in sight.

“Dorothy,” I called out.

Of course there was no way she could hear me over the loud talking from the surrounding people. I ran back toward the entrance, thinking that maybe I had lost her somewhere along the way, but I didn’t see her anywhere.

Panic had officially set in now. I walked back over to the spot where I had lost her. Seconds later I noticed something at the betting windows. I raced over there.

“What are you doing?” I asked. “You scared me to death.”

She held up the paper with the race bet. “The race is about to start soon. I was looking at the race form and I realized I really needed to make a bet. I mean, look at this horse.” She tapped the race form. “Look at that name. I’m sure it’s going to win.”

“Dorothy, this is gambling, and we’re not here to do that.”

“But it’s a racetrack. Of course we have to do that. This is so much better than bingo,” she said.

I tugged on her arm and pulled her away from the betting window, but not before she had grabbed the paper with her wager printed on it.

“Come on, number six,” she said. “Lucky six.”

I spotted Brett. It was practically a miracle that I was able to pick him out of the crowd.

“There he is,” I said. “We have to catch up with him.”

Dorothy and I raced across that way, weaving around people. He was walking at a brisk pace, so we were having a hard time keeping up. He had really long legs.

It was really strange. As we walked along, it felt as if someone was watching me. I scanned the surroundings, but everyone was paying attention to their betting forms or talking with other people. No one seemed to notice that we were racing across the way. When I peeked over my shoulder I saw him. I was almost sure it was Brett. He was looking right at us and following along. Why would he follow us?

“Don’t look now, Dorothy, but I think Brett is following us,” I said out of the side of my mouth. “Why would he follow us? He doesn’t know me.”

Of course she looked over her shoulder. I didn’t blame her for looking. I blamed myself for telling her not to look. When would I ever learn?

“Maybe he just likes you and wants to flirt,” she said.

“Somehow that narrow beady-eyed look on his face makes me think otherwise,” I said. “We have to try to lose him.”

“Good luck with that,” she said with a snort. “I thought you wanted to talk with him.”

“I have to know why he’s following us first. What if he really is the killer? I have to be prepared mentally for what I will say and do.”

“You should have thought of that before now.” Dorothy unwrapped a peppermint.

I pulled Dorothy to the side and we were able to blend in with the crowd. I peeked out from behind a column and watched Brett rush on by. He walked through an archway that led out onto the sitting area where the races took place. I dashed around the other side, hoping to keep up with him.

Luckily, he wasn’t following us now, but that didn’t explain why he’d done this in the first place. However, now I had another problem. Dorothy had vanished. She had gone missing again. Surely she wasn’t placing another bet. Hadn’t she learned a lesson? Plus, this race hadn’t even taken off yet. She should worry about one race at a time. I noticed her standing over by the rails. The horses broke from the gate and she was pumping her fist, encouraging her pick to run faster.

I marched over to her. “What are you doing, Dorothy? This is work, not play.”

“Oh, come on, Maggie, you can’t expect me to stop now.” She waved her betting ticket through the air.