Read Online Bluegrass Peril by Virginia Smith - Free Book Online Page B

Racing Form. “There were a bunch of these in the drawer, too.”
    Scott took the pile and rifled through them. “Here it is.” He fanned the edges and flipped the paper open. “Yeah, here’s the fifth horse. There’s a note jotted on there, ‘2.5—30-1.’” He looked up at her. “That’s got to be his bet and the horse’s odds at post time. And this—” he held up the page from the notebook “—is his tally sheet.”
    Becky looked at the huge stack of papers with similar figures on them. She shook her head sadly. “Poor Neal. He must have had a real problem with gambling. I had no idea.”
    Scott put the racing form down and studied the figures scrawled on the paper, lines creasing his forehead. “I’ll tell you what worries me is this last number on here. Looks like he added up his winnings and losses for the day and ended up in the hole eight thousand three hundred fifty dollars. But look below that.”
    Becky took the paper from his hand. At the bottom of the page, below the eight thousand number, another number had been scrawled. She sucked in a breath. No. That couldn’t mean what she thought it meant.
    She raised her eyes to Scott’s. “Minus thirty-seven thousand five hundred dollars?”
    Scott nodded. “And do you see those initials beside it?”
    Becky did. “EJ. Do you know what that means?”
    Scott’s lips tightened. “I sure do.”

     
    Scott paid for a general admission ticket to enter Keeneland. It was close to the end of the afternoon, probably only a couple of races left to run, but there was still a steady stream of race enthusiasts filing past the ticket window beneath the track’s big stone entryway.
    He stepped through the open breezeway, passed the gift shop, and joined a throng in the paddock. A line of horses were at that moment being ceremoniously paraded beneath the huge sycamores and maples that towered over the paddock as they made their way toward the saddle ring. Scott slipped into a gap in the crowd next to the metal railing to admire them. The next race was for fillies, and these magnificent beauties pranced in their eagerness to get on the track.
    A line of jockeys arrived as the trainers started saddling the racers, eyeing their horses and each other, their expressions grim or stern as they assumed their game faces to meet the challenge ahead. A small cluster of well-dressed people stood a little distance from each horse to watch the saddle and review procedure. The owners and their guests.
    Though he didn’t spend much time at the track, Scott had to admit the atmosphere of excitement and anticipation stirred his blood. Gambling didn’t appeal to him at all, but these horses were supreme athletes, every one of them. They loved to race, and always gave it their all. He’d seen horses suffer an injury and continue to run on three legs with every ounce of strength in them. Not many human athletes would be that dedicated.
    Scott scanned the faces lining the black railing. He caught sight of several familiar ones, as he knew he would. Regulars during the months of April and October, when Keeneland’s race meetings were held, racing forms clutched in their hands as they studied the horses, trying to decide which ones looked like winners. A beautiful little chestnut filly skittered sideways when her trainer tried to place the saddle on her back, and dozens of hands clutching pens made marks on their forms, noting her nervous energy.
    Finally, Scott caught sight of the man on the other side of the paddock, standing with his back to the clubhouse. He stepped away from the railing and picked his way toward the tall, lanky man wearing a gray fedora and a pensive expression. He sidled up beside him and stood watching the number five horse for a moment.
    “So who do you like in this one?” He didn’t take his eyes off the horse as he spoke.
    The man cast a quick glance his way. The corner of his mouth twitched. “Some fine-looking fillies there.”
    Scott nodded.