Read Online Full Mortality by Sasscer Hill - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Sasscer Hill
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another horse when she’s ready.” She didn’t need a horse pushed on her, not so soon after losing Gildy. And a bullet — the fastest morning work at a given distance, same track, same day — only rated if the competition was good. Suppose the horse produced a bullet work breezing against a bunch of cheap has-beens?
The waiter appeared with additional champagne glasses effervescing with a concoction that seemed to glow. Clay leaned into me, sort of enthusiastic and bubbly, like the drink the waiter set before me.
“That’s just it. If she waits, she could lose out. Talk to her Nikki, tell her you’ve heard great things about this horse. Don’t blow this opportunity.” His eyes shone with a driving intensity.
“Clay, I don’t think so. I wouldn’t be comfortable telling Martha what to do.”
He looked a bit taken aback, then said, “No pressure, babe. I’ll work another angle.”
Somewhere nearby a familiar tune played. Wait, I knew that one. The lyrics “we’re in the money,” floated through my head. I watched Clay dig in his jacket pocket. He pulled out a cell phone, and it was still playing that melody. He must really like money.
He gave me a what-can-you-do look and took the call.
“Hey, buddy,” he said, then listened. “Don’t you worry, he’s all but sold. Yeah, right.” He grinned, “those two crosses of Destroyer will clinch the deal. Yeah, like we talked about. You’re damn right that’s good money. Super money.”
He listened some more, a smug expression settling on his face. “Okay. Yeah, later.” He folded up the phone, and it disappeared into his pocket.
Hadn’t Martha said Clay wanted her to buy a horse with two crosses of Destroyer? Was Clay brokering a deal at both ends, taking his five-percent commission twice? If not illegal, surely unethical? And he wanted me to help him? I pushed the champagne away and glared at him.
“What?”
“Martha told me you wanted her to buy a horse with Destroyer in the pedigree. Is that the same horse you’re selling for your buddy here?”
A wary expression flitted across his face. “Not at all, Nikki. There’s plenty of horses with Destroyer in the family.”
“Yeah, but two crosses?”
He looked annoyed. “Nikki, this is my business, how I make a living, not some Girl Scout Cookie drive.”
He had that right. “I don’t like that your padding the price to line your own pockets. And Martha’s the one paying. She’s paid enough already.”
“You’re wrong, Nikki. There’s two different horses. I wouldn’t do that to Martha.”
Why didn’t I believe him? Maybe the earlier smug look, like a satisfied con who’s pulled a scam. He reached for my hand, but I snatched it away, sad to feel the magic dissipating. I wanted that warm rush, that seductive thrill, but not like this.
“I want to go home,” I said.
Chapter 11
I took a taxi back to Laurel, glad I’d remembered to stuff cash into my black bag. The memory of Clay’s chill expression and irritation was unpleasant.
“You shouldn’t be so quick to judge,” he’d said. “You’ve got me all wrong, but suit yourself.”
I sighed and settled back into the taxi’s bench seat. In the rear-view mirror, the eyes of the cinnamon-skinned driver watched me. Layers of black cloth wound about his head, making me feel like I fled America’s capital with a terrorist disguised as a taxi driver. Of course, this man probably had me pegged as a rich party bitch. How do you know about people?
I should have seen the con in Clay from miles away, the way he’d schmoozed Janet LeGrange, given her that excited smile. The same smile that danced so recently on my lips. He seemed to genuinely like women — just didn’t mind profiting by their inevitable attraction to his handsome face and flattering ways. Any man who took advantage of a woman like that dragged me right back to my stepfather, Stanley. I shuddered.
“You cold, missy?” asked my turbaned driver. He started
The waiter appeared with additional champagne glasses effervescing with a concoction that seemed to glow. Clay leaned into me, sort of enthusiastic and bubbly, like the drink the waiter set before me.
“That’s just it. If she waits, she could lose out. Talk to her Nikki, tell her you’ve heard great things about this horse. Don’t blow this opportunity.” His eyes shone with a driving intensity.
“Clay, I don’t think so. I wouldn’t be comfortable telling Martha what to do.”
He looked a bit taken aback, then said, “No pressure, babe. I’ll work another angle.”
Somewhere nearby a familiar tune played. Wait, I knew that one. The lyrics “we’re in the money,” floated through my head. I watched Clay dig in his jacket pocket. He pulled out a cell phone, and it was still playing that melody. He must really like money.
He gave me a what-can-you-do look and took the call.
“Hey, buddy,” he said, then listened. “Don’t you worry, he’s all but sold. Yeah, right.” He grinned, “those two crosses of Destroyer will clinch the deal. Yeah, like we talked about. You’re damn right that’s good money. Super money.”
He listened some more, a smug expression settling on his face. “Okay. Yeah, later.” He folded up the phone, and it disappeared into his pocket.
Hadn’t Martha said Clay wanted her to buy a horse with two crosses of Destroyer? Was Clay brokering a deal at both ends, taking his five-percent commission twice? If not illegal, surely unethical? And he wanted me to help him? I pushed the champagne away and glared at him.
“What?”
“Martha told me you wanted her to buy a horse with Destroyer in the pedigree. Is that the same horse you’re selling for your buddy here?”
A wary expression flitted across his face. “Not at all, Nikki. There’s plenty of horses with Destroyer in the family.”
“Yeah, but two crosses?”
He looked annoyed. “Nikki, this is my business, how I make a living, not some Girl Scout Cookie drive.”
He had that right. “I don’t like that your padding the price to line your own pockets. And Martha’s the one paying. She’s paid enough already.”
“You’re wrong, Nikki. There’s two different horses. I wouldn’t do that to Martha.”
Why didn’t I believe him? Maybe the earlier smug look, like a satisfied con who’s pulled a scam. He reached for my hand, but I snatched it away, sad to feel the magic dissipating. I wanted that warm rush, that seductive thrill, but not like this.
“I want to go home,” I said.
Chapter 11
I took a taxi back to Laurel, glad I’d remembered to stuff cash into my black bag. The memory of Clay’s chill expression and irritation was unpleasant.
“You shouldn’t be so quick to judge,” he’d said. “You’ve got me all wrong, but suit yourself.”
I sighed and settled back into the taxi’s bench seat. In the rear-view mirror, the eyes of the cinnamon-skinned driver watched me. Layers of black cloth wound about his head, making me feel like I fled America’s capital with a terrorist disguised as a taxi driver. Of course, this man probably had me pegged as a rich party bitch. How do you know about people?
I should have seen the con in Clay from miles away, the way he’d schmoozed Janet LeGrange, given her that excited smile. The same smile that danced so recently on my lips. He seemed to genuinely like women — just didn’t mind profiting by their inevitable attraction to his handsome face and flattering ways. Any man who took advantage of a woman like that dragged me right back to my stepfather, Stanley. I shuddered.
“You cold, missy?” asked my turbaned driver. He started
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